The World in My Pocket

Gypo wiped his aching fingers on the seat of his trousers and stared at the dial. So far he hadn’t heard one tumbler fall into place. He could sit there, he thought, despairingly, turning the dial for days without getting anywhere: maybe he’d never get anywhere.

‘I’ve got to take a rest, I haven’t any more feeling in my hand.’

He came and stood by the open window, drawing in deep breaths of the fresh air that was now beginning to circulate in the caravan.

‘Isn’t there any other way of opening it?’ Bleck demanded, his eyes still on the boat that was now moving through the water quickly under Kitson’s powerful strokes.

‘I told Frank it would be tough,’ Gypo said. ‘Maybe I’ll never open it.’

‘Yeah?’ Bleck stared at him. ‘You’d better open it, Gypo. You hear me? You’d better open it.’

The menacing gleam in his eyes made Gypo flinch.

‘I can’t work miracles,’ he muttered. ‘Maybe no one can open it.’

‘You’d better work a miracle,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘Go on! Get going! The longer you work at it, the quicker you’ll be! Get going!’

Gypo went back to the dial, sat down, pressed his ear to the door and began once more to move the dial, listening for a tumbler to fall.

By dusk, Gypo was exhausted. He sat on the stool, leaning against the door, making no attempt to move the dial. Seeing the distress on his face and how haggard he looked, Bleck let him alone.

Gypo had had only an hour’s break in twelve long, hot hours.

He had succeeded in dropping one of the tumblers, and he guessed he had at least another five to find. But he had made a start, and Bleck was feeling more optimistic. Maybe Gypo would find two of the tumblers tomorrow. Maybe they would have the door open by the end of the week.

When it was dark enough, Kitson let them out and they hurried over to the cabin.

Ginny had prepared a meal of pork tenderloins with sweet potatoes and she had baked an apple pie. The men ate hungrily. Every now and then Bleck shot a scowling glance at Kitson. It infuriated him to see Kitson’s face was sunburned, underlining the fact that he had been out in the open all day.

Gypo brightened when he saw what was on his plate, and he ate with gusto. Towards the end of the meal, his fat face lost its look of fatigue and resigned hopelessness.

The meal over, Bleck moved to an armchair, lit a cigarette and looked at the other three.

‘Well, we’ve made some progress today,’ he said. ‘From now on one of us has to stay with the caravan every night. We can’t take the risk of someone seeing the caravan and taking a look through the window or trying to break in. This’ll be your job, Kitson. You’re having it pretty soft during the day. You can have it a little rough during the night.’

Kitson shrugged. He didn’t care.

This day had been a good one for him. Ginny had shown signs of relaxing with him. Although they had kept to impersonal topics she seemed ready to talk to him and she was much less hard. He had rowed her around the lake during the morning and had taken her swimming during the afternoon.

Whenever they met anyone, she always slipped her arm through his, and this pleased him.

During the afternoon when they had been lying side by side in the sun, after a swim, he in trunks and she in a one-piece white costume, she had suddenly moved over to him and had rested her face against his shoulder, her arm across his chest, and for a moment he had thought he had succeeded in breaking down her final reserve only to realize that two other people had come down on to the beach and seeing them lying like that had moved away, leaving them on their own.

He had been careful not to move, hoping she would remain like that, but of course she hadn’t. As soon as the two had gone, she lifted her head and looked at him.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

‘You didn’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I liked it.’

She laughed, sitting up.

‘I dare say you did. I’m going to have another swim,’ and jumping to her feet, she ran down to the lake side.

Kitson remained where he was, watching her.

Yes, she was relaxing with him all right. He felt then for the first time that he might have a chance with her. He realized this request of Bleck’s for him to guard the caravan at night was a reasonable one. Anyone snooping around in the dark and taking it into his head to break into the caravan could blow their whole plan sky high.

‘Okay,’ he said, pushing back his chair, ‘I’ll get out there now.’

Expecting opposition and surprised, Bleck watched him leave. When the door shut behind him, Bleck said, ‘Suppose Gypo and me have the beds, baby, and you use the settee? We are the ones doing the work and we need our sleep. That okay with you?’

Ginny shrugged indifferently.

‘Oh, sure.’

Bleck stared at her.

‘Unless maybe Gypo takes the settee.’

Ginny looked up sharply.

‘I’ll take the settee, thank you,’ she said curtly.

Bleck grinned.

‘Suit yourself.’ He got up and took a deck of cards from the overmantel and began to shuffle the cards. ‘Want a game of gin?’