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'Come. You'll have to start trusting me somewhere, said Lindsay more gently.
'I know, he said. 'The trouble is if I don't trust you from the start I can't trust you at all.
'Well, trust me from the start then.
Randall got up slowly. Lindsay's hair had begun to escape from inside her dress and was lying on her shoulders in wide tangles and scatterings of gold. He was moved by how young she looked, how waif-like, a little waif out to make her fortune, a Dick Whittington of the passions.
'I will, he said humbly. It was a gesture of surrender.
Lindsay took him by the hand. She was all kindness now. 'You know, she said, 'I always thought this scene would be you seducing me — but it's turned out to be me seducing you! I've had to fight every inch of the way. Aren't you a perfect disgrace?
'You've imagined this scene? said Randall, gratified. 'A thousand times.
He was delighted and yet terrified, and as they reached the door of her bedroom he had a certain foreboding.
Lindsay pulled the curtain and turned the light on. She undid her bed. The room in the red glow from the reading-lamp seemed suddenly small and desperate. A line of strange daylight showed beyond through a chink in the curtain. Randall closed the door and leaned against it. He felt exhausted.
Lindsay turned to face him, twisting her hair together and throwing it back over her shoulder. With a half-shadowed face she looked like a figure on a playing card. She said in a cold murmur, 'Just one last thing, Randall. I may have changed the order of the programme, but I haven't changed the items. Don't forget your practical thinking.
'No dough, no go. She began to take off her dress.
Christ, what a girl, thought Randall. He worshipped her. At the same time he felt paralysed with fear. He wondered now whether his crazy imaginings about Emma's complicity had not perhaps been devices designed by himself precisely to prevent his ever arriving at this moment. He watched her.
Lindsay pulled the brown dress over her head and shook her hair, free of it. She was wearing a very brief petticoat underneath. She put the dress aside and stood now looking at him, gathering her hair once more with a hand that shook slightly.
'Oh God, Lindsay —’ said Randall. She looked so strangely pathetic, yet why was he so strangely afraid? She looked like a poor condemned whore taken to execution in' her shift. Yet his knees trembled.
'Come, come, she said very softly.
'Come, Randall. She bent and began to take off her stockings.
Randall fumbled with his tie. He seemed to be tightening the knot rather than loosening it.
Lindsay had removed other undergarments but not yet the petticoat. She came to him now and began to help him with the tie, murmuring 'Dear, dear, dear. He felt the warmth of her A
She regarded him with a tender irony. 'Would you like to go home now?
'Oh God, Lindsay, said Randall again, and he fell on his knees, grasping her about the legs. Her legs were infinitely warm and soft. As she began to pull the petticoat off he laid his head against her thigh. He could feel her trembling violently. He gave long sighs.
'Now, now, now —’ said Lindsay. She was kneeling beside him and unbuttoning his shirt. He touched her breasts. He remembered her breasts. Then his searching hand was jerked upwards by Lindsay pulling his shirt and vest over his head. And now she was unbuttoning his trousers.
'All right, all right, said Randall. 'I'll do it. He sat on the floor and took off the rest of his clothes.
Lindsay was lying full length on the undone bed. Randall knelt and looked. Then he looked into her face. It was as if their eyes had become huge and luminous so that when they gazed they were together in a great cavern. Slowly he pulled himself up to sit upon the edge of the bed. Then he turned away from her and hid his face in his hands.
'What is it, dear, dear? murmured Lindsay. She caressed his back.
'I'm not going to be any good, said Randall. 'God! I was afraid of this.
'It doesn't matter. Embrace me.
He stretched himself out almost stiffly and buried his face against her. His A
After a little while she said again, 'There. Relax. It doesn't matter.
'It does. I wish I hadn't talked so much about Emma. I'm poisoned.
'Emma's not important here. She's not important any more.
'Ah — not important anymore. You know, Lindsay, I don't think I really like Emma.
'I don't think I like her either. In fact I think I dislike her.
'I dislike her too.
'In fact I think I detest her.
'And I detest her. Oh Lindsay —’
It was a few minutes later that he said, 'Do you know, I think it's going to be all right after all.
Chapter Sixteen
'SOME more coffee? Another biscuit? said A
It was nearly lunch-time, but she was still at it. She seemed to have been eating ever since she arrived, as if she had been starved before. Or as if, it occurred to A
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Emma too had behaved in an odd and not very reassuring way. Instead of wandering about with Hugh, leaving A
The only person banished from her presence was Hugh. This unfortunate was to be seen outside on the su
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