Chapter Eighteen

Susan drove us back to Iglo where I examined the wreckage of my car. The rental company would be less than pleased to learn of the situation. The bomb had been placed under the bonnet. When the explosion occurred, it had damaged the vehicle sufficiently to ensure that it would be written off by the insurance company as to be not worth repairing. In my mind’s eye I could see it being lowered by a crane in the Carharrack scrap-yard. to end up in a metal cube like Roger Blake’s car. While I removed some personal items from the glove compartment Susan prepared dinner. She had become a stabilising factor in my life and I felt that I could depend upon her. Although I had responsibility for Ellie in Los Angeles, I was not married to her. My American lover had an independent mind and there was a remote chance that she would go off on her own as a single mother taking our child with her. Who knew what the future might bring? And, if that happened, where would it leave me? I had begun to like Cornwall and toyed with the idea of giving up my career in the film industry and retiring to Iglo with Susan. Ellie was right... I did tend to complicate my life.

I rang the Falmouth Hotel to find out whether any telephone messages had been left for me. Neither Ellie nor Harry Badella had made contact. I had no idea whether that was bad news or not. Ellie would be completely disgusted with me, ready to give me the sharp edge of her tongue. She could be in labour for all I knew having our child. Harry would have received the first part of the film script together with the whole plot and the story line. His modus operandi was normally to ridicule the script claiming that the dialogue was a disgrace to the writing profession and demand a rewrite.

‘We’re workin’ in the real world, ass-hole,’ he would shout. ‘This is a real business costin’ lots of money not an amateur contest for cheap trophies!’

Ultimately, the writer, whoever he was, would have to rewrite the script again. It was nasty, annoying, time-wasting and pointless, but he loved to play it that way. But this time, I wasn’t there to take it. Perhaps no news was good news. I was just about to ring off when the receptionist cam in with a comment that caused me considerable alarm.

‘We carried out your instructions with regard to the note you sent,’ she told me.

‘Note? What note?

‘The one you wrote asking us to release the envelop you put in the hotel safe,’ she went on. ‘We gave it to Mr. Thomas as you instructed. We have a signed receipt for it. You can collect it on your return.’

My heart sank as I groaned inwardly. Who the hell was Mr. Thomas? It was the second set of important notes I had lost! It was becoming too much to bear! I assumed that whoever had taken the second set of papers was in possession of the first set as well. But I now knew that there was a third set. I told Susan about the theft of the papers but she seemed to show little interest. I couldn’t blame her. It was all way out of her sphere.

‘Let the whole thing go,’ she suggested calmly. ‘If you pursue them, they’ll keep making attempts on your life. Forget the whole thing. It isn’t worth it.’

We settled down to dinner together. She had cooked us a fine meal. Afterwards, she poured me a brandy and a liqueur for herself.

‘It’s rather awkward for you now that your car’s out of action,’ she forwarded amiably as we sipped our drinks. I don’t feel disposed to take you all the way to Falmouth and drive back here again. You’ll have to stay the night. There’s a perfectly good bed in the guest room.

The thought of staying after such an excellent meal was very inviting. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble... ‘

‘No trouble,’ she cut in. ‘You’re welcome.’

We talked about Hollywood and films for the next hour until started to feel sleepy. ‘I always know when I’m getting tired,’ I joked. ‘I can hardly keep my mouth open!’

She laughed, got to her feet, and came over to me. ‘No... don’t move!’ she ordered. ‘I noticed you were moving your head from side to side with a stiff neck. Let me massage it for you’

She placed her hands on my shoulders with her thumbs resting on the back of my neck and began to move them gently. The woman had magic fingers for I felt the discomfort vanish as she moulded the muscles into proper co-ordination.

‘Hm... that’s nice,’ I responded in soothing tones. She continued to massage me for a while, then yawned, ceasing the operation. She stood before me, an attractive, sensuous, caring woman and I felt desire surge through my body. Before I realised what I was doing, she was in my arms and I was caressing her gently. We slid to the floor and I opened her blouse to realise that she was wearing nothing underneath. My hands ran smoothly over her soft white breast, touching her nipples tenderly. I was out of my mind with frustration seeking any way to relieve myself. Shortly, we lay on the carpet in front of the hearth together naked in the twilight.

‘My God!’ I whispered, breathing heavily. ‘I want you, Susan. I want to make love to your beautiful body!’

Her arms moved around my waist, holding me tightly. ‘You darling man,’ she uttered. ‘You darling man!’

Her hands moved over my hair and face and we entered into a serious of long kisses. It was amazing how attitudes of love could change so much in a relatively short space of time. With Tamara Hoskyn I felt nothing emotional. With Susan I felt emotionally overwhelmed and filled with desire. I was like a young innocent lover full of passion, a little over hasty and forceful. The feeling of lust was grossly evident but there was also the glorious warmth of love flowing through my veins. I ran my hands over her body, kissing many parts of it with a hundred tiny kisses and round one of her erogenous zones which really excited her. She opened her legs in ecstasy waiting for the inevitable to happen. I gauged that she hadn’t experience intimate sex for a very long time. He body wilted as I placed my hand between her legs and moved swiftly forwards and backwards across her clitoris. The action raised her to cloud nine and her mind was gone from this world. As I penetrated her, she made a slight groan and then relaxed to a regular pulse of movement in harmony with me. We rose and fell together for quite some time and then her body went limp and she uttered a long gasp and threw her arms around me, kissing me firmly on the lips.

‘You are the best!’ she commended. ‘We must do this again sometime.. She got to her feet, put on her clothes, and took my hand, leading me to the guest bedroom. ‘There’s a pair of pyjamas on the bed if you want them,’ she told me ‘Good night!’ I realised that she had it in mind for me to stay there that night and had prepared accordingly.

‘Why don’t you let me come into your bedroom and show you what I can really do,’ I suggested boldly.

She moved back a few paces. ‘Not tonight!’ she uttered firmly. ‘Not tonight!’ Then she left me closing the door behind her.

I was a little puzzled by her attitude believing that her bedroom still held the memories of her late lamented husband. That had to be it. I could understand her feelings. She had loved him deeply, lived with him for some years and carried his children. I was simply a widow’s victim... an object of her temporary desire. No doubt Tony Brigham had suffered the same fate!

***

Iglo reigned supreme in terms of peace and tranquillity. There was only the sound of the birds... nothing else. All my life I had been plagued by the noise of car engines, the constant drone of aircraft, and the argumentative tones of neighbours. Now there was total silence and brilliant sunshine. It was Heaven! I opened the curtains of the bedroom to gaze out into lush green pastures littered with buttercups, tempered by a light breeze which played with them gently. It was a view I had missed since childhood when I had been evacuated to Cornwall. Some wildlife moved innocently near the hedge at the top of the field but it was too far for me to determine whether they were rabbits, hares, foxes or badgers. This vision of nature was totally different to the American scene. Los Angeles was a city with its up-town and down-town areas, often saturated with a choking smog caused by the greenhouse effect of the exhaust fumes from motor vehicles. There was the constant hustle and bustle of traffic, the rapid pace of life, the incentive to hurry somewhere to make that extra buck. Here, in the south-west of England, there was the wide-ranging fields, the unbroken countryside, and the excitement of landscape with real character that everyone could enjoy. And, above all, it was free!

I stood by the window looking out across the fields for a while. It was such a wonderful sight I could hardly tear myself away from it. Then I heard the sound of Susan’s footsteps outside. Her movement signalled that it was time for me to dress I moved away from the window wondering when I would see such a lovely sight again. In a while, I made my way to the dining room. The timing was perfect for Susan had just made breakfast.

‘Did you sleep well?’ I asked making general conversation.

‘Yes, thank you.’ She placed a plate of food in front of me indicating that I should sit down and eat.

‘It was wonderful being with you last night. I’ve never made love on a carpet before.’ I went on before starting the meal.

She placed her plate on the table opposite me and sat down. ‘Would you pass the pepper please?’ she asked as though I hadn’t said anything at all.

I knew that the chemistry between us was favourable and I was certain she had been impressed with me. However, now she seemed cold, impassive, unresponsive.

We tucked into the meal and I had to admit that this kind of domesticity was strange to me. In Los Angeles, the normal routine was to hurry down to a restaurant, usually The Little Pancake House on Figueroa Street for breakfast. The start of the day always took me into a jungle of people and the angry roar of traffic. After that, I usually made for the film studio. Even on location there were lots of people with whom one had to share the morning. But in the peacefulness of Iglo, I was able to relax at leisure and eat breakfast in comparative silence. It was worth more than money could buy to face nature and enjoy the absence of traffic.