The World in My Pocket

‘Okay.’ Bleck got to his feet, crossed the room and removed the key from the lock. He put it in his pocket. ‘Well, I’ve had all I want for tonight. I’m going to sleep.’ He went over to Gypo and gave him a nudge. ‘Take a chair, fatso. I reckon I’m entitled to the settee.’ He sat on the settee as Gypo moved wearily to the armchair. As he kicked off his shoes, he said to Kitson, ‘There’s a second bed in the other room for you, bridegroom. Help yourself.’

Kitson was too exhausted to rise to the bait. He stretched out in the armchair.

Ginny went into the bedroom and shut the door. They heard the key turn.

‘Tough luck, bridegroom,’ Bleck sneered and turned off the light. ‘Looks like she doesn’t fancy you.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Kitson growled.

II

Soon after seven o’clock the next morning, Ginny came into the sitting room and pulled the blinds, waking the three men.

Cursing, Bleck sat up abruptly, his hand groping for his gun.

Stupefied with sleep, Kitson raised his head and blinked at Ginny, as she walked into the kitchen.

Gypo, groaning with stiffness, leaned forward to nurse his sore jaw.

Ginny called, ‘It’s time you got under cover. There are people already on the lake.’

Bleck grunted and, getting up, he went into the bathroom. He came out ten minutes later, shaved and showered.

‘Go ahead and clean up,’ he said to Gypo. ‘You begin to smell like a polecat.’

Gypo looked dolefully at him and then went into the bathroom. By the time he had taken a shower, Ginny had carried a breakfast tray of coffee, eggs, ham and orange juice into the sitting room.

‘You’d better have it in the caravan,’ she said, thrusting the tray into Bleck’s hands.

An ugly gleam showed in his eyes.

‘Look, baby, I’m giving the orders around here now,’ he said, taking the tray. ‘I’m in charge of this outfit.’

Her eyes showed contemptuous amusement.

‘Nobody’s in charge,’ she said. ‘Even Morgan wasn’t. We work according to the plan. It was agreed you and Gypo should only come into the cabin at night, and you were to keep out of sight during the day. If you don’t want to stick to the plan, say so.’

‘Okay, smartie,’ Bleck said. ‘So we eat in the caravan. Sounds like you’re anxious to be alone with your boyfriend.’

Ginny turned and walked back into the kitchen.

‘You lay off her,’ Kitson said, getting to his feet.

‘Aw, button up!’ Bleck snarled, ‘go out there and see if anyone’s around, then open up the caravan.’

Kitson hesitated, then he went out into the sunshine. He looked to right and left, satisfied himself there was no one watching him, then he called to Bleck and opened the back of the caravan.

Bleck and Gypo got in.

‘You’re going to have it soft, plough boy,’ Bleck said, his eyes glittering. ‘You make hay while the sun shines.’

Kitson jerked the lever savagely, shutting the two men in the caravan, then he returned to the cabin.

Ginny was cooking more ham.

He went into the bathroom, took a shower, shaved, then put on a sweat shirt and a pair of cotton jeans. As he came into the sitting room, Ginny was putting a plate of ham and eggs on the table.

‘That looks good,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Is that for you or – or for me?’

‘I don’t eat breakfast,’ she said curtly, and pouring a cup of coffee, she carried it to the armchair and sat down, her back half turned to him.

Kitson sat down. He found he was hungry, and he began to eat, thinking how well the ham was cooked and the eggs were just as he liked them.

‘I guess we’d better get out after this,’ he said. ‘We might take a boat on the lake or something.’

‘Yes.’

He was disappointed that she sounded so curt.

‘It’s going to be pretty rugged for those two in the caravan,’ he said, hoping to get her talking. ‘There’s not much shade out there. By noon it’s going to be hotter than a stove.’

‘That’s their look out,’ she said indifferently.

‘Yeah. Do you think Gypo will open the truck?’

She made an impatient movement.

‘How should I know?’

‘Well, if he doesn’t, what are we going to do?’

‘Why ask me? Ask Bleck if you can’t work it out yourself.’

She got up abruptly, carrying her coffee cup and went into the kitchen.

Kitson felt his face burning. He suddenly didn’t want to go on with his breakfast, and grimacing, he finished his coffee, stacked the plates and carried them into the kitchen.

‘Look, I didn’t mean to get on your nerves,’ he said as he laid the things on the table. ‘But we’ve got to be seen around together. Couldn’t we be a little less unfriendly? After all,’ he stopped, floundering.

‘For God’s sake, go into the other room and let me alone,’ she said, her back turned to him; her voice was shaking.

Shocked by her tone, Kitson moved around so he could see her. It was then he realized how pale and drawn she looked. Maybe she wasn’t as tough as she made out, he thought. This horrible business of yesterday could have given her a hell of a jolt, as it had him.