She paused to listen, surprised and a little uneasy. The knocking continued.
She hesitated, then she turned off the light and moved silently into the dark bar room.
The faint light from the moon reflecting into the room gave her enough light to find her way to the street door.
Against the blind that covered the glass door, she could see the shadowy outline of a man and she stopped, wondering who it could be, her uneasiness growing.
Knuckles continued to knock against the glass, then a voice said very softly: “Ginette? Are you there? It’s Jay.”
She went immediately to the door and pulled aside the blind.
They looked at each other through the glass panel. The moonlight fell fully on her, while he was in the shadow and she smiled at him as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door.
“Why, hello,” she said. “What are you doing here at this time?”
He stood motionless, looking at her. She couldn’t see him clearly, but she did see he had taken off his dark glasses and over his shoulder he carried what looked like a canvas sack.
“I’ve come to stay,” he said. “You said there was a room for me.”
She hesitated, then, as he moved forward, she gave ground and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. She heard him fumble with the key and turn it.
“I... I don’t think you can stay here to-night,” she said a little breathlessly. “You see I’m alone here. Father had to go to St. Tropez.”
“Yes, you told me. I’m sorry,” he said, dropping the sack on the floor. “But you can’t turn me away. I have nowhere else to go.”
She found it exciting and disturbing to be in the semi-darkness so close to him. She could feel the heat of his body as he stood by her.
“Wait a moment,” she said. “I’ll put on a light.”
“No, don’t do that.” His voice sharpened and surprised her. “Wasn’t there a light just now at the back?”
“Yes, I was clearing up. When I heard your knock I was startled. I put the light out.”
“Clearing up? Let me help you.” He walked past her into the kitchen and turned on the light. “You have all this to do?” he asked as she came to the door and he waved his hand at the trays of glasses on the table. “Don’t you have any help?”
She laughed.
“I’m used to it. It won’t take very long.”
She moved into the kitchen and over to the sink.
“Have you really nowhere to sleep?”
“No. I’ve left my hotel. You said you had a room for me, so naturally I came here.”
She began to slide the glasses into the sink.
“Well, I suppose you could have a room, but I don’t think my father will approve.” She smiled at him. “Will you want it for long?”
“Two days. When is he coming back?”
“I don’t know. His brother is very ill. He may be away for a week.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if he approves or not, for he won’t know, will he?”
He picked up a cloth and began to dry the glasses as she rinsed them.
“I don’t like doing anything that I know he would disapprove of,” she said, wanting him to stay, but making excuses to her conscience.
He watched her, his heart beating rapidly, thinking how beautiful she was and loving her.
“Then I’ll go. As soon as I have finished helping you, I’ll go and I’ll sleep on the harbour somewhere.”
She laughed.
“I’m sure you don’t intend to do any such thing. You are trying to work your way into my heart.”
“Would that be very difficult?”
She paused, her hands in the water and looked over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t think it would.”
He put down the glass he was drying and let the cloth drop out of his hand, then he moved towards her. She smiled as she faced him.
“You’re like no other girl I have ever known. Up to now, girls have never meant anything to me but you... ”
She put her hands on his chest, pushing him back.
“I don’t think we should be doing this, Jay.”
“You are only saying that because it is the conventional thing to say. You don’t really mean it, do you?”
She hesitated, then shook his head.
“No, you’re quite right. I don’t mean it at all.”
She dropped her hands and let him draw her against him and she leaned against him, her heart beating violently.
Jay thought, this is something I have never experienced before. Why have I been so utterly stupid? Why have I put my future in jeopardy? I could have found everything I have been searching for in this girl.
His kiss was clumsy, but Ginette reacted to it in a way that set his blood on fire. They clung to each other, their bodies hard against each other’s, her fingers moving gently up the back of his neck and through his hair.
Then suddenly she broke free and turned away, her breathing quick and hard.
“We mustn’t do this, Jay. Please... ”
For some seconds, he remained motionless, his mind in a daze, then he said unsteadily: “Why not? I love you.”
The words sounded horribly trite to him. Every character in every one of his father’s movies said I love you sooner or later: the cheap, stylized jargon of the commercial cinema.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes searching and questioning.
“I know so little about you,” she said. “You are a stranger to me. I can’t understand why I should feel as I do feel about you. We’ve only met for an hour or so and we talk of love.”
“I know.” He lifted his hands helplessly. “For me it is different. I’ve been lonely and unwanted all my life. Then I meet you and I’m no longer lonely.”
She turned, smiling at him.
“We won’t do any more of this,” she said, waving her hands at the glasses still to be washed. “I’ll show you your room.”
He looked at her and he saw how bright her eyes were and how quickly she was breathing and because the excitement inside him was almost too strong for him to bear, he went out of the kitchen into the semi-darkness of the bar room and picked up the sack he had left on the floor.
She turned out the light in the kitchen and moved to a door leading to a steep flight of stairs. She paused in the doorway, turning on the light so he could see the stairs and he looked at her; seeing the expression in her eyes he knew for certain what was going to happen and he hesitated.
Sexual experience was an unknown factor in his suppressed, enclosed life. He had never considered it because he had never expected any girl would want to yield to him. Now he saw Ginette was ready to offer herself to him, his nerve quailed. He thought of the girl he had killed and he regretted the act. The excitement, the test of his ingenuity, wits and courage seemed suddenly petty and ridiculous. What Ginette would offer him was the ultimate thing in a man’s life, he told himself. He was suddenly sure of it. The other — the act of killing, the false excitement, the pitting of wits — was a sham and he was sickened at the thought that now he could never again lead a normal life. He would never know when the police would catch up with him.
“It’s on the first floor,” Ginette said.
He watched her climb the stairs and he was now acutely aware of her body in the tight-fitting singlet and cotton trousers she was wearing.
He picked up the sack and followed her up the steep stairs to a door at the head of the stairs.
As she turned on the light in the room, she smiled at him.
“It’s not much of a room, but the bed is comfortable,” she said.
He moved up to her, looking beyond her into the small, clean room with its bed, its strip of carpet, its chest of drawers and the bright oil painting of Cannes harbour on the wall.
“It’s wonderful,” he said. “I couldn’t wish for anything better.”
He tossed the sack down by the bed, then deliberately went over to the window and faced her.
They looked at each other, then Ginette came into the room and closed the door.