Hit and Run (4 page)

'Not here. They'll see us and they'll tell Roger. Let's go somewhere where no one can see us.'

'They? Who do you mean?'

'Mrs. Hepple and Watkins. Have you met Mrs. Hepple?'

'I don't like her. She's sneaky. Don't you think she's sneaky?'

'I wouldn't know. I just saw her last night. I haven't spoken to her.'

'She doesn't approve of me. She likes to get me into trouble. Roger listens to her.'

I suddenly saw the danger of this.

'If Mr. Aitken doesn't want you to learn to drive ...'

She put her hand on my arm, and that stopped me short.

'Don't tell me you're another one of them who is afraid of him. If you are, I'll find someone else to teach me to drive.'

'It's not that I'm afraid of him, but I can't very well do something that is against his wishes.'

She put her head a little on one side and looked searchingly at me.

'Don't my wishes mean anything, then?'

We looked at each other, then I turned on the ignition.

'If you want to learn how to drive, I'll teach you,' I said, my heart slamming against my ribs.

I moved the gear lever to 'drive' and trod down on the gas pedal. The car went down the long driveway like a bullet out of a gun. At the gates, I stood on the brake pedal and, when the tyres bit, I swung the car on to the main highway and again gave it the gun.

For about five minutes I drove fast with the speedometer needle flickering around the nineties, then I slowed and turned off on to a secondary road and pulled up.

'My!' she exclaimed, and she sounded a little breathless. 'You can drive! I've never been driven as fast as that before.'

I got out and walked around the car.

'Move over,' I said, opening the off-side door. 'You can't drive where you're sitting.'

She slid across the bench seat and I got in and sat in her place. I could feel the slight warmth of her body still on the seat and that made the blood quicken in my veins.

you press down on the pedal by your right foot. When you want to stop, you take your foot off that pedal and put it on the big one here on your left. That's the brake. Got it?'

'Why, it's easy,' she said, and in one movement she flicked down the gear lever and trod down hard on the gas.

The car took off like a crazy thing. She had absolutely no idea how to steer a car. I doubt if she looked where she was going.

For two or three seconds I was so startled I couldn't do anything. In those seconds we shot off the road, mounted the grass verge, skated along it with the off-side wheels skidding, and then we slammed back on to the road again. As we tore towards a hedge on the other side of the road I grabbed the wheel and got the car straight.

'Take your foot off the gas!' I yelled at her and I managed to kick her shoe off the pedal. Still holding the wheel, I stamped down on the brake and brought the car to a violent stop.

Those had been hectic seconds. In another moment we could have been wrecked.

I turned off the ignition and turned to look at her.

The moonlight was coming through the open car window and I could see her clearly. She was completely unruffled and she was smiling. She looked so lovely she took my breath away.

'It's got power,' she said. 'I was a little heavy-footed, wasn't I? I shouldn't have pressed down so hard. Let's try again.'

'Now, wait a minute,' I said. 'That's a terrific way to attempt suicide. You don't stamp down ...'

'I know,' she said impatiently. 'You don't have to tell me. I pressed down much too hard. Let's try again.'

'Will you watch the road when the car is moving? The idea is to keep straight.'

She looked quickly at me and laughed.

'I was taken by surprise,' she said. 'I didn't think it had so much power.'

'That makes two of us,' I said and turned on the ignition. 'Take it dead easy: gently with the gas.'

She moved the gear lever into position and we took off around twenty miles an hour. Again she showed she hadn't an idea how to steer a car. We bounced up on the grass verge and then back on to the road, only this time we were going at a reasonable speed and I could control the car. I kept my hand on the steering wheel and, for fifty yards, we kept a straight course.

'I don't see how I can possibly learn if you do everything,' she said and pushed my hand away.

We promptly darted towards the hedge. I got my foot on the brake pedal and stopped the car just in time.

'You don't seem to have the knack of this,' I said. 'Did Mr. Aitken ever try to teach you to drive?'

'Roger?' She laughed. 'Oh, no, he wouldn't have the patience.'

'You're trying to drive too fast and you're not watching the road. Let's start again, and let's go a lot more slowly.'

This time she succeeded in driving a hundred yards at fifteen miles an hour, dead in the centre of the road.

'That's the idea,' I said. 'That's fine. Keep going like that and you'll get the feel of the thing.'

Then I saw, coming towards us, the headlights of a fast-moving car.

'Pull over to your right,' I said, 'and go slow. Watch the road.'

She pulled in too sharply and too far, and the off-side wheels mounted the grass verge. The approaching car dipped its headlights and kept coming. I was sure she was going to pull the car off the verge and that would take her right into the path of the other car, so I stamped on the brake pedal and brought the Cadillac to a jerking stop. The other car swept past and went roaring on into the darkness.

'I wish you would let me do it,' she said a little impatiently. 'I could have managed.'

'Yeah, but it's the only car I've got.'

She turned to me and laughed.

'This is fun. I'm loving it. I know in a little while I'll be able to drive. Will you lend me your car sometimes if Roger won't let me use any of his?'

'But when I can – will you lend me this car?'

'All right, but it will be difficult to fit in a time. I take it to work every day.'

'Perhaps when I want it, you could take the bus.'

'That's a thought, but I'm not wild about taking a bus. Besides, I use the car quite a lot when I'm at work.'

'On very special occasions, you could take a taxi, couldn't you?'

'I suppose I could.'

She peered at me.

'What you are trying to say is you don't want to lend me the car,' she said quietly. 'That's the truth, isn't it?'

If she had but known it, I would have given her the car if she had asked me for it: that's how far gone I was.

'It's not that,' I said. 'I'm just scared you'll hit something or someone will hit you. You will want a lot more practice before you can go out alone. Anyway, where do you want to go to on your own?'

'No particular place. I just want to drive. I want to feel the wind rushing by and to move fast. It's something I've always wanted to do.'

'Well, okay, when you can handle this car safely, you can borrow it.'

She put her hands on mine. The touch of her cool flesh really got me going.

'Do you mean that?'

'Yes, I mean it.'

'I can have the car when I want? All I have to do is to telephone and tell you when I want it and you'll let me have it?'

'That's all you have to do.'

'Honest?'

She sat staring at me for a long moment, then she gently patted my hand.

'I think you're the nicest man I have ever met.'

'I wouldn't say that,' I said, and my voice was husky. 'If you want the car you can have it. Now let's have another try at driving. Let's see if you can handle her better than last time.'

'Yes,' she said and turned on the ignition.

We drove along the road, and this time she was really pretty good, and even when two fast-moving cars snarled past her, she managed to keep the Cadillac on a straight course.

'I've got the hang of it now,' she said. 'I feel it,' and she increased speed.

I shifted a little closer to her so I could grab the wheel if I had to. My foot moved near the brake pedal, but she was keeping a straight course, and after a few moments, she really gunned the engine. The speedometer needle moved into the eighties.

'Better ease off,' I said. 'You're going too fast.'

'It's wonderful,' she exclaimed. 'I've always wanted to drive like this. What a car! What a beauty!'

'Ease off now!' I said sharply and put my foot gently on the brake pedal.

A car came out of the night with blazing headlights and stormed towards us. We were bang in the centre of the road. I trod on the brake.

'Get to your right!'

She swung the car to the right too sharply. If I hadn't trod down hard on the brake we would have hit the grass verge and we could have turned over. I grabbed the wheel and straightened the car as the other car stormed past us with a loud blast of its horn.

I stopped the Cadillac.

'Did you have to do that?' she asked, looking at me. 'I was going fine.'

'You certainly were.' I had had enough for one night. My nerves were sticking out of my skin. 'All you want is practice. That'll do for tonight. I'll take over now.'

wondering where I am.'

Those words made a conspiracy out of our association. They gave me a queer, bitter-sweet sensation.

'Will you drive really fast?' she went on as we changed places. 'Really fast?'

I pressed down on the gas pedal. In a few seconds, the Cadillac was tearing along at ninety miles an hour.

She hugged her knees and stared through the wind-shield at the two big blobs of light from the headlamps as they raced ahead of us. I had an idea she was surrendering herself to the sensation of speed and was revelling in it.

We reached the gates of the Gables at twenty minutes to eleven.

As I pulled up, she let out a long, deep sigh.

'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.

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.

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.