The Burning Shore - Smith Wilbur - Страница 47

• Предыдущая
• 47/138
• Следующая

What he saw reassured him and he asked, Your father?

She shook her head. He was killed in the shelling. I'm sorry, Sean said simply, and turned to John Pearce. Take Miss de Thiry through to my quarters. Then to her, I will follow you in five minutes. The general's room opened directly into the main refectory, so that with the door open Sean Courtney could lie on his cot and watch everything that went on in his operations room. It was sparsely furnished, just the cot and a desk with two chairs, and his locker at the foot of the cot.

Won't you sit here, Mademoiselle? John Pearce offered her one of the chairs, and while she waited, Centaine glanced round the small room.

The only item of interest was the desk. On it stood a hinged photograph frame, one leaf of which contained the picture of a magnificent mature woman, with dark Jewish beauty. It was inscribed across the bottom corner, Come home safely to your loving wife, Ruth. The second leaf of the frame held the picture of a girl of about Centaine's age. The resemblance to the older woman was apparent, they could only be mother and daughter, but the girl's beauty was marred by a petulant, spoiled expression; the pretty mouth had a hard, acquisitive quirk to it, and Centaine decided that she did not like her very much at all.

My wife and daughter, Sean Courtney said from the doorway. He had put on his jacket and was buttoning it as he came in.

You have eaten? he asked as he sank into the chair opposite Centaine.

Yes, thank you. Centaine stood up and picked up the silver box of Vestas from the desk, struck one and held it for him to light the Havana. He looked surprised, then leaned forward and sucked the flame into the tip of the cigar. When it was well lit, he leaned back in the chair and said, My daughter, Storm, does that for me. Centaine blew out the match, sat down again and waited quietly for him to enjoy the first few puffs of fragrant smoke. He had aged since their last meeting, or perhaps it was only that he was very tired, she thought. When did you last sleep? she asked, and he grinned.

Suddenly, he looked thirty years younger. You sound like my wife."She is very beautiful.

Yes, Sean nodded and glanced at the photograph, then back to Centaine. You have lost everything, he said.

The chateau, my home, and my father She tried to be calm, not let the terrible hurt show.

You have other family, of course. Of course, she agreed. My uncle lives in Lyon, and I have two aunts in Paris. I will arrange for you to travel to Lyon.

No.

Why not? He looked piqued at her abrupt refusal.

I don't want to go to Lyon, or Paris. I am going to Africa. Africa? Now he was taken aback. Africa? Good Lord, why Africa? Because I promised Michel, we promised each other we would go to Africa. But, my dear- He dropped his eyes, and studied the ash of his cigar. She saw the pain that the mention of Michael's name inflicted, she shared it with him for a moment, and then said, You were going to say, "But Michel is dead. He nodded. Yes. His voice was almost a whisper. I promised Michel something else, General. I told him that his son would be born in the sunshine of Africa. Slowly Sean lifted his head and stared at her. Michael's son? His son. You are bearing Michael's child? Yes, All the stupid mundane questions rushed to his lips. Are you sure? How can you be certain? How do I know it's Michael's child? And he bit them back. He had to have time to think to adjust to this incredible twist of fate.

Excuse me. He stood up and limped back into the operations room.

Are we in contact with the third battalion yet? he demanded of the group of officers.

We had them for a minute, then lost them again. They are ready to counter-attack, sir, but they need artillery support. Get on to those damned shell wallahs again, and keep trying to get through to Caithness. He turned to another of his staff. Roger, what is happening to the First? No change, sir.

They have broken two enemy attacks, but they are taking a beating from the German guns.

Colonel Stevens thinks they can hold. Good man! Sean grunted. It was like trying to close the leaks in a dyke holding back the ocean with handfuls of clay, but somehow they were doing it, and every hour they held on was blunting the cutting edge of the German attack.

The guns are the key, if we can get them up soon enough. How is the traffic on the main road? Clearing and moving faster, it seems, sir. If they could move the 25-pounders into the gap before morning, then they could make the enemy pay dearly for their gains. They would have them in a salient, they could hit them from three sides, pound them with artillery.

Sean felt his spirits droop again. This was a war of guns, it all came back in the end to the bloody attrition of the guns. At the front of his mind Sean made the calculations, assessed the risks and the costs and gave the orders, but behind that he was making other calculations. He was thinking of the girl and her claims upon him.

Firstly he had to control his natural reaction to what she had told him, for Sean was a son of Victoria, and he expected all people, but especially his own family, to live by the code that had been set in the previous century. Of course, young men were expected to sow their wild oats - by God, Sean himself had sown them by the barrowload, and he grinned shamefacedly at the memory. But decent young men left decent young girls alone, until after they were married.

I'm shocked, he realized, and smiled again. The officers at the operations table saw the smile and looked puzzled and uneasy. What is the old devil up to now? They exchanged nervous glances.

Have you got hold of Colonel Caithness yet? Sean covered the smile with a ferocious scowl, and they applied themselves diligently to their tasks once more.

I'm shocked, Sean told himself again, still amused at himself but this time keeping his face impassive. And yet Michael himself was your own love-baby, the fruit of one of your escapades. Your first-born- The pain of Michael's death assailed him again, but he drove it back.

Now, the girl. He began to think it out. Is she really pregnant, or is this some elaborate form of blackmail? It did not take him more than a few seconds to decide.

I can't be that wrong in my estimate of her. She truly believes she is pregnant. There were areas of the female anatomy and the feminine mind that were completely alien terrain to Sean. He had learned, however, that when a girl believed she was pregnant, she sure as all hell was.

How she knew escaped him, but he was prepared to accept it. All right, she's pregnant, but is it Michael's child, and not some other young- Again his rejection of the idea was swift. She's a child of a decent family, carefully guarded by her father and that dragon of hers. How she and Michael managed it beats me- He almost grinned again as he recalled how often and how adroitly he had managed it in his youth, against equally fearsome odds. The ingenuity of young love He shook his head. All right, I accept it. It's Michael's child. Michael's son! And only then did he allow the joy to rise in him. Michael's son! Something of Michael still lives on. Then he cautioned himself quickly. Steady on now, don't let's go overboard. She wants to come out to Africa, but what the hell are we going to do with her? I can't take her in at Emoyeni. For a moment the image appeared in his mind of the beautiful home on the hill, The place of the wind in Zulu, which he had built for his wife. The longing to be back there with her came powerfully upon him.

He had to fight it off and apply himself to the immediate problems again.

Three of them, three pretty girls, all of them proud and strong-willed, living in the same house. Instinctively he knew that this little French girl and his own beloved but lovingly indulged daughter would fight like two wild cats in a sack. He shook his head. By God, that would be the perfect recipe for disaster, and I wouldn't be there to turn them over my knee. I've got to come up with thing better than that. What in the name of all that is holy do we do with this pregnant little filly? Sir! Sir! one of his officers called, and offered Sean the head-set of the field telephone. I've got through to Colonel Caithness at last. Sean snatched the set from him. Douglas!

• Предыдущая
• 47/138
• Следующая