He walked along the waterline on the hard golden sand until he was out of sight of the inn. Then he threw off his pyjamacoat and took a short run and a quick flat dive into the small waves. The beach shelved quickly and he kept underwater as long as he could, swimming with powerful strokes and feeling the soft coolness all over him. Then he surfaced and brushed the hair out of his eyes. It was nearly seven and the sun had lost much of its heat. Before long it would sink beneath the further arm of the bay, but now it was straight in his eyes and he turned on his back and swam away from it so that he could keep it with him as long as possible.
When came ashore nearly a mile down the bay the shadows had already engulfed his distant pyjamas but he knew he had time to lie on the hard sand and dry before the tide of dusk reached him.
He took off his bathingtrunks and looked down at his body. There were only a few traces left of his injuries. He shrugged his shoulders and lay down with his limbs spread out in a star and gazed up at the empty blue sky and thought of Vesper.
His feelings for her were confused and he was impatient with the confusion. They had been so simple. He had intended to sleep with her as soon as he could, because he desired her and also because, and he admitted it to himself, he wanted coldly to put the repairs to his body to the final test. He thought they would sleep together for a few days and then he might see something of her in London. Then would come the inevitable disengagement which would be all the easier because of their positions in the Service. If it was not easy, he could go off on an assignment abroad or, which was also in his mind, he could resign and travel to different parts of the world as he had always wanted.
But somehow she had crept under his skin and over the last two weeks his feelings had gradually changed.
He found her companionship easy and unexacting. There was something enigmatic about her which was a constant stimulus. She gave little of her real personality away and he felt that however long they were together there would always be a private room inside her which he could never invade. She was thoughtful and full of consideration without being slavish and without compromising her arrogant spirit. And now he knew that she was profoundly, excitingly sensual, but that the conquest of her body, because of the central privacy in her, would each time have the sweet tang of rape. Loving her physically would each time be a thrilling voyage without the anticlimax of arrival. She would surrender herself avidly, he thought, and greedily enjoy all the intimacies of the bed without ever allowing herself to be possessed.
Naked, Bond lay and tried to push away the conclusions he read in the sky. He turned his head and looked down the beach and saw that the shadows of the headland were almost reaching for him.
He stood up and brushed off as much of the sand as he could reach. He reflected that he would have a bath when he got in and he absentmindedly picked up his trunks and started walking back along the beach. It was only when he reached his pyjamacoat and bent to pick it up that he realized he was still naked. Without bothering about the trunks, he slipped on the light coat and walked on to the hotel.
At that moment his mind was made up.
CHAPTER 24 - FRUIT DÉFENDU
When he got back to his room he was touched to find all his belongings put away and in the bathroom his toothbrush and shaving things neatly arranged at one end of the glass shelf over the washbasin. At the other end was Vesper's toothbrush and one or two small bottles and a jar of facecream.
He glanced at the bottles and was surprised to see that one contained nembutal sleepingpills. Perhaps her nerves had been more shaken by the events at the villa than he had imagined.
The bath had been filled for him and there was a new flask of some expensive pine bathessence on a chair beside it with his towel.
'Vesper,' he called.
'Yes?'
'You really are the limit. You make me feel like an expensive gigolo.'
'I was told to look after you. I'm only doing what I was told.'
'Darling, the bath's absolutely right. Will you marry me?'
She snorted. 'You need a slave, not a wife.'
'I want you.'
'Well, I want my lobster and champagne, so hurry up.'
'All right, all right,' said Bond.
He dried himself and dressed in a white shirt and dark blue slacks. He hoped that she would be dressed as simply and he was pleased when, without knocking, she appeared in the doorway wearing a blue linen shirt which had faded to the colour of her eyes and a dark red skirt in pleated cotton.
'I couldn't wait. I was famished. My room's over the kitchen and I've been tortured by the wonderful smells.'
He came over and put his arm round her.
She took his hand and together they went downstairs out on to the terrace where their table had been laid in the light cast by the empty diningroom.
The champagne which Bond had ordered on their arrival stood on a plated winecooler beside their table and Bond poured out two full glasses. Vesper busied herself with a delicious homemade liver paté and helped them both to the crisp French bread and the thick square of deep yellow butter set in chips of ice.
They looked at each other and drank deeply and Bond filled their glasses again to the rim.
While they ate Bond told her of his bathe and they talked of what they would do in the morning. All through the meal they left unspoken their feelings for each other, but in Vesper's eyes as much as in Bond's there was excited anticipation of the night. They let their hands and their feet touch from time to time as if to ease the tension in their bodies.
When the lobster had come and gone and the second bottle of champagne was halfempty and they had just ladled thick cream over their fraises des bois, Vesper gave a deep sigh of contentment.
'I'm behaving like a pig,' she said happily. 'You always give me all the things I like best. I've never been so spoiled before.' She gazed across the terrace at the moonlit bay. 'I wish I deserved it.' Her voice had a wry undertone.
'What do you mean?' asked Bond surprised.
'Oh, I don't know. I suppose people get what they deserve, so perhaps I do deserve it.'
She looked at him and smiled. Her eyes narrowed quizzically.
'You really don't know much about me,' she said suddenly.
Bond was surprised by the undertone of seriousness in her voice.
'Quite enough,' he said laughing. 'All I need until tomorrow and the next day and the next. You don't know much about me for the matter of that.' He poured out more champagne.
Vesper looked at him thoughtfully.
'People are islands,' she said. 'They don't really touch. However close they are, they're really quite separate. Even if they've been married for fifty years.'
Bond thought with dismay that she must be going into a vin triste. Too much champagne had made her melancholy. But suddenly she gave a happy laugh. 'Don't look so worried.' She leaned forward and put her hand over his. 'I was only being sentimental. Anyway, my island feels very close to your island tonight.' She took a sip of champagne.
Bond laughed, relieved. 'Let's join up and make a peninsula,' he said. 'Now, directly we've finished the strawberries.'
'No,' she said, flirting. 'I must have coffee.'
'And brandy,' countered Bond.
The small shadow had passed. The second small shadow. This too left a tiny questionmark hanging in the air. It quickly dissolved as warmth and intimacy enclosed them again.
When they had had their coffee and Bond was sipping his brandy, Vesper picked up her bag and came and stood behind him.
'I'm tired,' she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
He reached up and held it there and they stayed motionless for a moment. She bent down and lightly brushed his hair with her lips. Then she was gone and a few seconds later the light came on in her room.