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fighting and her reason was losing.
She went into her bedroom and bolted the door. When she
had dressed in jeans and a clean white shirt she unpacked the
rest of her clothes and hung them in the fitted wardrobes taking
up one side of the room. All the time while she worked her mind
was arguing: 'Get out, get out while you can,' but she was
moving like an automaton, she didn't act on those agitated
warnings.
She went downstairs and Kit ran to meet her, clasping his
arms around her slim waist. 'Are you going to make my tea? I'm
hungry. Can I have banana sandwiches and ice-cream?'
Logan walked past, grinning. 'I'm going to have a shower
now, it's your turn,' he said. 'His taste- buds are out of key; his
favourite food seems to be peanut butter or hamburgers. I don't
think you're bringing him up properly.'
Christie ignored that and shepherded Kit into the enormous
kitchen. He climbed on to a stool in the dining area at the end by
the window and Christie made him some tiny sandwiches and
poured him some milk. When he had eaten she took him back
into the sitting-room to watch a cartoon show on the television.
Logan put his head round the door at a quarter to six.
'I have to go out for a few hours. Will you put Kit to bed?
There's plenty of food in the freezer, help yourself.'
Kit ran over to kiss him goodnight. Christie watched,
wondering where Logan was going. He was wearing an elegant
blue suit and a striped blue shirt; she didn't believe he was
keeping a business appointment. He was dressed for a date. Had
he lied about the black-haired woman she had seen here last
night? Was he meeting her somewhere?
As he straightened from hugging Kit, he gave her a brief
glance. 'Don't wait up for me,' he said mockingly, the tanned
skin taut over his cheekbones, and Christie stiffened with
resentment.
'I wasn't intending to,' she snapped, and was sure that he was
meeting a woman. Why else would he be staying out late,
dressed to kill?
When he had gone, she put Kit to bed and sat beside him for
a while, telling him a bedtime story before he fell asleep. The
house was quiet, but her imagination was very active; she felt
restless and frustrated, prowling around the house listening to
the silence pressing down on her head, the soft warm whisper of
the night breeze through the acacias in the garden. She felt a
fool. She had been fighting her own compulsive attraction to
Logan, dreading the moment when Kit went to bed and they
were dangerously alone in the house, and after all Logan had
gone off to meet someone else! How stupid could you get?
She went to bed early and bolted her door in defiance,
although she didn't expect Logan to try it, not any more.
Obviously his attention was elsewhere; he might have been
flirting with her, taunting her, but he hadn't any serious
intentions and she had let her hectic imagination run away with
her. She lay in the darkness, trying to sleep but listening all the
time for the sound of his return. It was nearly eleven, she saw by
her bedside clock. She turned over. She had to get to sleep. She
must stop thinking about Logan. They had been divorced for
four years and she hadn't spent her time worrying about where
he was or who he was with why was she doing it now? She
tried to think about work, about Kit, about Ziggy, but sleep
didn't come.
The last time she looked at her clock it was gone midnight,
and Logan still wasn't back yet. She must have fallen asleep
soon after that. When she woke up it was daylight and Kit was
tapping on her door, calling her.
'Mummy, Mummy, can we have breakfast?'
Christie yawned, sliding out of the bed. 'I won't be a minute,
Kit,' she called, and drew the curtains to let the golden light
flood into the room; she looked at it bitterly, it was always so
sunny here why couldn't it rain just once in a while? She felt
stupidly depressed, she didn't know why. Over breakfast Kit was
lively and talkative and Christie tried to be as cheerful. Logan
must still be asleep, no doubt he needed the rest. Maybe he
wasn't going to work today.
He appeared five minutes later in a light grey suit and a shirt
in a darker shade. Christie looked at him resentfully. She was
just loading the dishwasher and she didn't intend to start making
breakfast for him. He should have had it with his lady-friend.
'I'm late,' he said briskly. 'I'll grab a cup of coffee and run.'
'The coffee's cold,' said Christie with a grim satisfaction, and
he shrugged, walking out again.
'I'll get some coffee at the office.'
She heard his car drive off and slammed the front of the
dishwasher so hard the glasses in it rattled and tinkled. Kit
looked round, mouth open.
'You broke a glass,' he said accusingly.
'Oh, dear,' she said unrepentantly. 'What shall we do today?'
'Could we go to Disneyland?' Kit asked at once; it was his
favourite way of passing a day and it was only an hour's drive
away. Christie nodded.
'Why not?' At least it would keep her mind off her own
problems; she'd rather laugh over Mickey Mouse than fret about
the way Logan made her feel. She was tired of her own
inconsistencies; she had been scared stiff of being alone in the
house with Logan while Kit was asleep, yet when Logan
obligingly cleared out and she could feel safe all she had felt
was jealous and angry. When she was with Logan all they did
was quarrel; she should be delighted that he was otherwise [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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