Hit and Run

'You can drive,' she said. 'You really can. I loved that. I could have gone on at that speed forever. When am I going to have my second lesson?'

I hesitated for a brief moment. At the back of my mind, I knew this could be dangerous.

'Now look,' I said. 'I don't want to get you into trouble. If your husband really doesn't want you to drive ...'

She put her cool fingers on my wrist.

'He won't ever know – how could he know?'

Feeling her flesh on my flesh made me light-headed and utterly reckless.

'I'll be here at eight tomorrow night,' I said. 'I should be through just after nine.'

'I'll wait in the car.' She opened the door and got out. 'You don't know how much I've enjoyed this. I get so bored, but this has been the nicest and most exciting evening I've ever spent. I've really loved it.'

The hard white light of the moon showed me she was wearing lemon-coloured slacks and a bottlegreen sweater. She had a shape on her under that sweater that made me catch my breath.

'My name is Lucille,' she said. 'Will you remember that?'

I said I would remember it.

She smiled at me.

'Then we meet tomorrow. Good night.'

She waved to me and then started to walk up the long drive towards the house.

I watched her go, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white. I sat there, breathing unevenly and quickly, watching her until I lost sight of her.

She was now in my blood like a virus: as deadly and as dangerous as that.

I didn't remember the drive back to the bungalow. I didn't remember getting into bed.

All I know of that night was I didn't sleep.

How could I sleep when my mind was on fire and the hours that separated our next meeting seemed like a hundred years?

CHAPTER THREE

I

The next three days followed a systematic pattern. I reached the office at nine o'clock every morning, left at seven, had a snack supper at an Italian restaurant on the highway that led past the Gables, and arrived at the big house at eight o'clock. I remained with Aitken for an hour and a half, discussing the business of the day and going through any letters that usually he would have dealt with, then I went down to the Cadillac, where Lucille waited for me.

It was this moment I lived for. The rest of the hours were just a chore to get through somehow and as quickly as possible. After I had said good night to Watkins and had heard him shut the front door, then, and only then, did I come really alive.

From nine-thirty until eleven o'clock, Lucille and I cruised the secondary roads. We didn't talk a great deal. For one thing she had to concentrate on her driving. I found her concentration failed and she was inclined to let the car wander about the road if I talked to her. Also she so obviously enjoyed handling the Cadillac that I could see she didn't really welcome any interruption to the sensation in which she revelled. It was only when we pulled up outside the big wrought-iron gates of the Gables that we spent five or so minutes talking.

During those three evenings with her, my love for her grew to a degree that I had to exert a great deal of control not to show my feelings.

She did nothing to encourage me. She treated me as a friend whom she liked, and I knew she did like me. I could tell that by the way she spoke and the way she looked at me, but that was as far as it went.

It was my attitude towards her that bothered me. I knew if she gave me the slightest encouragement I could not have resisted making love to her.

I knew I was playing with fire. If ever Aitken found out what was going on, I was sure he would throw me out of the firm. She had said he was possessive, and by now I knew him well enough to realize he wouldn't for one moment tolerate me fooling around with his wife, no matter how platonic her feelings towards me were.

I kept telling myself that I should stop this before it got out of hand, then I tried to convince myself that, so long as Lucille wasn't falling in love with me, there surely could be no harm to continue the driving lessons.

As we were saying good night on the third evening, I reminded her I wouldn't be at the house the following night.

'Mr. Aitken has given me the weekend off,' I explained. 'So I won't be up.'

'Does that mean I'm not going to have a lesson?' she asked twisting around in the car seat to look at me.

'Not until Monday night.'

'Are you going away, then?'

'No, I'm not going away.'

'Then why can't you come up as usual? You can meet me down here and not up at the house or perhaps you don't want to?'

'It's not that I don't want to, but I must admit this worries me sometimes,' I said, looking at her. 'I'm sure if your husband found out he would be furious.'

She laughed. She had the most infectious laugh I had ever heard. She put both her hands on my arm and rocked me a little.

'He would be absolutely livid, but we don't mind, do we? Besides, he will never find out'

'Watkins or Mrs. Hepple might see us ...'