She reacted immediately.
‘No! As soon as he knows, he’ll be back. He’s probably on his way now. No, you must keep away from me!’
Standing in the hot call booth, I suddenly realized that there would be no more driving lessons. Marshall could afford a chauffeur. There would be no more rolling in the hay with Beth. Marshall would give up his real estate business in Frisco and do his drinking at home.
‘When do we meet, Beth?’ I asked, suddenly anxious.
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice sounded remote. ‘I’ll arrange something. Keep away. I’ll call you.’
‘Now listen, Beth, this is important. We’ve got to meet somewhere and soon. We...’ I stopped talking, realizing she had hung up.
Slowly, I replaced the receiver, pushed open the booth door and walked back to my car.
This woman had really thrown a hook in me. As I sat in the car, staring through the dusty windshield, I realized that even if she hadn’t been the wife of a millionaire, even if she had been working in a restaurant, I would still want her. Closing my eyes, I could hear her wild cry as she had reached the top of the hill. No woman I had ever been with had reacted to my thrusts as she had and this truly hooked me. Now this sudden bleak outlook. It had, of course been too easy. I had stupidly imagined that I could drive up to that house every day with the pretext of teaching her to drive but instead, get her on the bed.
Well, she had said she would arrange something. I would have to wait. I had always been patient, but waiting for Beth was something else beside.
I started the motor and drove towards Wicksteed.
I returned to my room soon after 21.00. To avoid running into any of the Planning committee, I had eaten at a cheap restaurant off Main Street, but even there, everyone was talking about Mrs. Fremlin’s death.
I sat at a corner table and chewed through a tough steak and listened.
The conversation floated around me.
I bet old Frank will drink himself to death now he’s getting all that money.
It wouldn’t surprise me now he’s collecting that money that he left Wicksteed.
Joe Pinner had great hopes that Frank will put up some money. The amusement park idea is great. We’ll all benefit... and so on and so on.
A newcomer came in: a big, fat man, shabbily dressed, who joined the other six men at a table near mine.
‘I’ve just seen Frank,’ he said. ‘Just came off the train. He’s drunker than a skunk.’ He gave a bellow of laughter. ‘Tom Mason was there and drove him home. Tom’s no fool. He has his eye on Frank’s money.’
And he’s not the only one, I thought, paid my check and went out to my car.
Groups of people were standing around, talking. There was only one topic of conversation in Wicksteed this night.
Back in my room, I turned on the TV set and sat down. After three or four minutes, I got up, turned the set off and began to prowl around the room.
I had Beth on my mind.
Lust for her moved through me like a knife thrust.
When was I going to see her again?
She was in my blood now like a virus. I’ll arrange something. But what? How long would I have to wait? I thought of Marshall. Several times while Beth had talked she had said: When he dies: if he dies: when he is dead.
With Marshall out of the way, she would have his money.
Don’t make any plans without me, Keith.
Lighting a cigarette, I continued to prowl around the room. Death, I thought, solved so many problems. If Marshall died...
I paused to stare out at the moonlit beach.
I couldn’t walk up to him, tap him on his fat chest and say, ‘Do me a favour — drop dead.’ I couldn’t do that, but that was now my thinking. If he did drop dead, it would be more than a favour. I could have Beth and also his money.
A gentle tapping on my door snapped me out of this thinking. I opened up.
Mrs. Hansen said, ‘You are wanted on the telephone, Mr. Devery. It’s Mr. Marshall.’
I stared at her, feeling spooked.
‘Mr. Marshall?’
She nodded. Her eyes bright with excitement.
‘Thank you.’
I moved by her and went down the stairs.
‘Is that you, Keith?’ There was no mistaking Marshall’s booming voice. ‘Have you heard the news?’
‘Who hasn’t? My condolences and my congratulations.’
He laughed. I could tell by his laugh, he was pretty drunk.
‘It comes to us all, and it wasn’t too soon. Listen, Keith, suppose you come up here? I want to talk to you.’
This was so unexpected, I stared blankly at the wall for a long moment, then I said, ‘You mean right now?’
‘Why not? Let’s make a night of it. How’s about it?’
‘Fine... I’m on my way.’
‘I mean a night of it, Keith. Bring a toothbrush. We’ve plenty of spare beds,’ and he hung up.
Aware Mrs. Hansen was still hovering, I said, ‘He sounds a little drunk. He’s asking me to spend the night with him.’
Not giving her a chance to comment, I went up to my room, threw my shaving and wash kit into a holdall, added a clean shirt and pyjamas and then hurried down to the hall.
Mrs. Hansen was still hovering. I waved to her, knowing for sure, the moment she heard my car drive away, she would be on the telephone to her brother, spreading the news.
I had this feeling of fatality which I had had ever since I had met Beth. I now accepted the fact that she meant more to me than money. And now, for no reason I could think of, Marshall had invited me to spend the night in their house. Why? Again fatality?
Parking the car outside the house, I thumbed the bell push. Lights were on in the living room. As I stood in the moonlight, my heart beating unevenly, I heard heavy footfalls. The door jerked open and Marshall stood there, his fat, red, smiling face shiny with sweat.
‘Come on in and join the big shot,’ he said, lurched a little, grabbed hold of my arm and led me into the living room.
I looked quickly around. There was no sign of Beth.
‘Have a drink.’ He waved to a half empty bottle of Scotch. ‘There’s plenty more.’ Lurching by me, he poured a big drink, slopped in charge water, then thrust the glass into my hand. He then lurched to an armchair and collapsed into it. ‘I guess I’ve tied one on, Keith,’ he said. ‘Who wouldn’t? A million dollars! At last! Something to celebrate huh?’
I sat opposite him.
‘Congratulations, Frank.’
He squinted at me.
‘Yeah.’ He paused, screwing up his eyes then went on. ‘You know something, Keith? I like you. You are my kind of people. You’re not like these creeps who are after my money. I like you.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘Don’t pay too much attention to what I’m saying... I guess I’m drunk, but I’m telling you for a fact, I like you.’
‘Thanks, Frank,’ I said. ‘People meet... people take to each other. It happens.’
He peered drunkenly at me.
‘Do you like me, Keith?’ There was a pleading, unhappy note in his voice.
Do me a favour... drop dead.
But I wasn’t going to say that to him. Instead, I lifted my glass in a salute.
‘You are my kind of people too, Frank.’
‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I felt it. When you drove me back here and then walked all that way back, I told myself you were my people.’
I wondered how much longer this stupid, drunken talk could continue. I wondered where Beth was.
‘Coming back in the train, Keith, I got thinking,’ he went on, ‘I’m going to be busy. I’ve got to wind up my estate business. I’ve got all kinds of plans.’ He rubbed his hand over his sweating face and peered at me. ‘Tell me something, how did you get on with my wife... with Beth?’
This was so unexpected, I sat still, staring at him.