The Driver's Seat Read Online Free PDF Page B

girl
who sat beside him on the plane. He is coming out of the airport building, now,
not infirmly but with an air of serious exhaustion, accompanied by the woman
and the girl.
    Lise
stands a few yards away. By her side is Bill; their luggage is on the pavement
beside them. She says, ‘Oh there he is!’ and leaves Bill’s side, running up to
the sick-eyed man. ‘Excuse me!’ she says.
    He
hesitates, and makes an awkward withdrawal: two steps backward, and with the
steps he seems to withdraw even more his chest, shoulders, legs and face. The
plump woman looks at Lise inquiringly while the girl just stands and looks.
    Lise
addresses the man in English. She says, ‘Excuse me, but I wondered if you
wanted to share a limousine to the centre. It works out cheaper than a taxi, if
the passengers agree to share, and it’s quicker than the bus, of course.’
    The man
looks at the pavement as if inwardly going through a ghastly experience. The
plump woman says, ‘No, thank you. We’re being met.’ And touching the man on the
arm, moves on. He follows, as if bound for the scaffold while the girl stares
blankly at Lise before walking round and past her. But Lise quickly moves with
the group, and once again confronts the man. ‘I’m sure we’ve met somewhere
before,’ she says. The man rolls his head slightly as if he has toothache or a
headache. ‘I would be so grateful,’ Lise says, ‘for a lift.’
    ‘I’m
afraid—’ says the woman. And just then a man in a chauffeur’s uniform comes up.
‘Good morning, m’ lord,’ he says. ‘We’re parked over there. Did you have a good
trip?’
    The man
has opened his mouth wide but without making a sound; now he closes his lips
tight.
    ‘Come
along,’ says the plump woman, while the girl turns in an unconcerned way. The
plump woman says sweetly to Lise, while brushing past her, ‘I’m sorry, we can’t
stop at the moment. The car’s waiting and we have no extra room.
    Lise
shouts, ‘But your luggage — you’ve forgotten your luggage.’
    The
chauffeur turns cheerily and says over his shoulder, ‘No luggage, Miss, they
don’t bring luggage. Got all they need at the villa.’ He winks and breezes
about his business.
    The
three follow him across the street to the rows of waiting cars and are followed
by other travellers who stream out of the airport building.
    Lise
runs back to Bill. He says, ‘What are you up to?’
    ‘I
thought I knew him,’ Lise says. She is crying, her tears fall heavily. She
says, ‘I was sure he was the right one. I’ve got to meet someone.
    Bill
says, ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry, people are looking. What’s the matter? I don’t get
it.’ At the same time he grins with his wide mouth as if to affirm that the
incomprehensible needs must be a joke. ‘I don’t get it,’ he says, pulling out
of his pocket two men‘s-size paper handkerchiefs, and, selecting one, handing
it to Lise. ‘Who did you think he was?’
    Lise
wipes her eyes and blows her nose. She clutches the paper handkerchief in her
fist. She says, ‘It’s a disappointing start to my holidays. I was sure.
    ‘You’ve
got me for the next few days if you like,’ Bill says. ‘Don’t you want to see me
again? Come on, we’ll get a taxi, you’ll feel better in a taxi. You can’t go on
the bus, crying like that. I don’t get it. I can give you what you want, wait
and see.’
    On the
pavement, further up, among a cluster of people waiting for a taxi is the
sturdy young man in his business suit, holding his briefcase. Lise looks
listlessly at Bill, then beyond Bill, and just as listlessly takes in the man
whose rosy face is turned towards her. He lifts his suitcase immediately he
catches sight of her and crosses the road amongst the traffic, moving quickly
away and away. But Lise is not watching him any more, she does not even seem to
have remembered him.
    In the
taxi she laughs harshly when Bill tries to kiss her. Then she lets him kiss
her, emerging from the contact with