The Swallow and the Hummingbird Read Online Free PDF Page B

truck,’ said Trees to his son. George nodded and slipped his hand around Rita’s waist, leading her away.
    Finally they were alone. George changed gear and then, when they were on the main road, he threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Let’s go straight to the beach.’
    ‘It’ll be high tide,’ she said.
    ‘Then we’ll just have to get our feet wet.’ He took his eyes off the road to smile at her. His smile was wide and reduced his face into lines around his mouth and eyes where they extended into crow’s-feet. ‘It’s good to be home.’
    ‘Your mother went to great trouble to make that cake,’ she said and laughed lightly. ‘It wasn’t that bad.’
    ‘It was terrible. I dream of your mother’s walnut cake. Ma’s a hopeless cook. She’s better at sculpture.’
    ‘My mother couldn’t sculpt anything, even if her life depended on it.’
    ‘How is Hannah?’
    ‘As you said, nothing’s changed.’
    ‘Good. I’d hate to think of dear old Hannah changing. I imagine Megagran is still going strong.’
    ‘As ever.’ They both laughed at the thought of Mrs Megalith.
    ‘Still reading those damned Tarot cards?’
    ‘I’m afraid so.’
    ‘I’ll remember to cover myself with garlic before I see her.’
    ‘She’s not a vampire!’
    ‘Well, how do you repel witches then?’
    ‘I don’t know about witches, but she hates dogs because they chase her cats.’
    ‘I’ll bring Mildred.’
    ‘And risk a nasty spell? I don’t want to kiss a frog.’
    ‘You know what they say about frogs?’
    ‘That if you kiss one it might turn into a prince?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I don’t want a prince. I just want you.’
    He parked the car above the cliffs beneath the darkening sky.
    ‘I can’t walk in these shoes,’ she said, climbing out. Besides, the stockings were a gift from an American GI she had befriended. A rare luxury she wasn’t prepared to sacrifice to the sea.
    George lit a cigarette and watched through the dusk as she bent down to unstrap her shoes. Then she leaned back against the truck and coyly lifted the skirt of her dress in order to release the stockings from her suspender belt. She was aware that his eyes were upon her and her face burned with shyness. He so unsettled her that her fingers fumbled with the catches. She laughed nervously.
    ‘These damned things!’ she exclaimed. George put his cigarette between his lips and strode over to assist. He knelt down and ran his hands appreciatively up her legs. She laughed again and attempted to push him away. ‘I can do it, really,’ she protested.
    But his fingers were already unfastening the first stocking. His hands were warm against her skin and she knew he was taking longer than he needed to. She held her dress up for him and hastily looked around, afraid of being seen in such a compromising position. George didn’t seem to care. He dealt with each catch deftly then slowly slid the silk down her thigh and calf and over her ankle and foot as if he were admiring them at the same time. She took the gossamer silk from him as he began on the other leg. He was aware that his touch was pleasurable for he deliberately stroked the skin above the silk with soft fingers. Then he threw his cigarette to the ground and kissed her there. She flinched and gasped in surprise, pushing her dress down modestly.
    ‘A bit late for that, isn’t it?’ he teased, slipping the final stocking over her foot. He stood up. Her face was so pink he took it in his hands and pressed his lips to it before pulling away and smiling at her affectionately. ‘Let’s go to our cave.’
    They walked hand in hand down the path to the beach. The sun hung low in the western sky, reflecting copper in the rise and fall of the waves. Rita stopped talking as they landed on the sand, aware that she was only minutes from being alone with him once again in the secrecy of the cave. The sand felt wet and cold beneath her feet as the rough grains oozed between her toes with every step. When