“I give up,” Lulu said with a deprecating wave of her hand. “You guys have no sense of adventure.” She stood up. “I’m going to bed. If he starts raping people, wake me up.” She climbed the little stepladder and crawled into the top bunk. She pulled the curtains, then looked out again and spoke to Diana. “Honey, I understand why you got ticked off at me back there in Ireland. I been thinking about it, and I figure I asked for what I got. I was kind of all over Mark. Dumb, I know. I’m ready to forget it as soon as you are. Good night.”
It was close enough to an apology, and Diana did not have the heart to reject it. “Good night, Lulu,” she said.
Lulu closed the curtain.
Mark said: “It was my fault as much as hers. I’m sorry, baby.”
By way of reply, Diana kissed him.
Suddenly she felt comfortable and at ease with him again. Her whole body relaxed, and she slumped back on the seat, still kissing him. She was conscious that her right breast was pressing up against his chest. It was nice to be getting physical with him again. The tip of his tongue touched her lips and she parted them a fraction to let him in. He began to breathe harder. This was going a bit too far, Diana thought. She opened her eyes—and saw Mervyn.
He was passing through the compartment, going forward, and he might not have noticed her, but he turned and glanced over his shoulder, and froze, almost in midstride. His face paled with shock.
Diana knew him so well that she could read his mind. Although he had been told that she was in love with Mark, he was too downright stubborn to accept it, and so it came as a blow to him to see her actually kissing someone else, almost as bad as if he had had no warning.
His brow darkened and his black eyebrows contracted in an angry frown. For a split second Diana thought he was going to start a fight. Then he turned away and walked on.
Mark said: “What’s the matter?” He had not seen Mervyn—he had been too busy kissing Diana.
She decided not to tell him. “Someone might see,” she murmured.
Reluctantly he drew away from her.
She was relieved for a moment; then she began to feel angry. Mervyn had no right to follow her across the world and frown at her every time she kissed Mark. Marriage was not slavery: she had left him, and he had to accept that. Mark lit a cigarette. Diana felt the need to confront Mervyn. She wanted to tell him to get out of her life.
She stood up. “I’m going to see what’s happening in the lounge,” she said. “You stay there and smoke.” She left without waiting for a reply.
She had established that Mervyn was not seated to the rear, so she went forward. The turbulence had eased enough for her to walk without holding on. Mervyn was not in number 3 compartment. In the main lounge the cardplayers were settling down to a long game, their seat belts fastened, clouds of smoke around them and bottles of whiskey on the tables. She went into number 2. The Oxenford family took up one side of the compartment. Everyone on the plane knew that Lord Oxenford had insulted Carl Hartmann, the scientist, and that Mervyn Lovesey had sprung to his defense. Mervyn had his good points: she had never denied that.
Next she came to the kitchen. Nicky, the fat steward, was washing dishes at a tremendous pace while his colleague was making beds farther back. The men’s room door was opposite the kitchen. After that was the staircase to the flight deck, and beyond that, in the nose of the plane, number 1 compartment. She assumed Mervyn had to be there, but in fact it was occupied by off-duty flight crew.
She went up the stairs to the flight cabin. It was as luxurious as the passenger deck, she noticed. However, the crew all looked terrifically busy, and one of them said to her: “We’d love to show you around at another time, ma’am, but while we’re flying through this bad weather we have to ask you to remain seated and fasten your safety belt.”
Mervyn had to be in the men’s room, then, she thought, as she went down the stairs. She still had not found out where he was sitting.
When she reached the foot of the staircase, she bumped into Mark. She gave a guilty start. “What are you doing?” she said.
“I was wondering that about you,” he said, and there was something unpleasant in his tone of voice.
“I was just looking around.”
“Looking for Mervyn?” he said accusingly.
“Mark, why are you angry with me?”
“Because you’re sneaking off to see him.”
Nicky interrupted them. “Folks, would you return to your seats, please? We’re getting a smooth ride for the moment, but it’s not going to last.”
They made their way back to their compartment. Diana felt foolish. She had been following Mervyn and Mark had been following her. It seemed silly.
They sat down. Before they could continue their conversation, Ollis Field and Frank Gordon came in. Frank wore a yellow silk dressing gown with a dragon on the back, Field a grubby old woolen one. Frank took off his dressing gown to reveal red pajamas with white piping. He stepped out of his carpet slippers and climbed the little ladder to the top bunk.
Then, to Diana’s horror, Field took a pair of gleaming silvery handcuffs from the pocket of his brown robe. He said something to Frank in a low voice. Diana could not hear the reply, but she could tell that Frank was protesting. However, Field insisted, and in the end Frank offered one wrist. Field clapped one cuff on him and attached the other to the frame of the bunk. Then he drew the curtain on Frank and fastened the snaps.
It was true, then. Frank
Mark said: “Well, shit.”
Diana whispered: “I still don’t believe he’s a
“I hope not!” Mark said. “We would have been safer paying fifty bucks and traveling steerage in a tramp steamer!”
“I wish he hadn’t put the handcuffs on. I don’t know how that boy can sleep chained to his bed. He won’t even be able to roll over!”
“You’re softhearted,” Mark said, giving her a hug. “The man is probably a rapist and you’re feeling sorry for him because he might not be able to sleep.”
She put her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair. He had been mad at her a couple of minutes ago, but that seemed to have passed. “Mark,” she said, “do you think two people can get into one of these bunks?”
“Are you frightened, honey?”
“No.”
He gave her a puzzled look; then he understood and grinned. “I guess you could get two in—though not side....”
“Not side by side?”
“It looks too narrow.”
“Well”—she lowered her voice—“one of us will have to get on top.” He murmured into her ear: “Would you like to get on top?”
She giggled. “I think I might.”
“I’ll have to consider that,” he said thickly. “What do you weigh?”
“Eight stone and two breasts.”
“Shall we get changed?”
She took off her hat and put it down on the seat beside her. Mark pulled their cases from under the seat. His was a well-used cordovan Gladstone bag, hers a small, hard-sided, tan leather case with her initials in gold lettering.
Diana stood up.
“Be quick,” Mark said. He kissed her.
She gave him a swift hug, and as he pressed against her she felt his erection. “Goodness,” she said. In a whisper she added: “Can you keep it like that until you get back?”
“I don’t think so. Not unless I pee out the window.” She laughed. He added: “But I’ll show you a quick way to make it hard again.”
“I can’t wait,” she whispered.
