gns.theplutopact-第13部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
person。 'Anyway； I thought you were going to get a flat of your own； and move out？' he helped her over into the front passenger seat。
'I'm still thinking about it。'
'It can't be much fun living with a family like yours。 Your dad still has this obsession about a radioactive leak。 Does he ever talk about anything else except trying to close down 〃Holocaust〃？'
'I don't take any notice now。'
'Well； you ought to。 If that place closed down； you'd be out of a job。 Still； I suppose he'd find you one at the Herald。 'You seem more worried about his efforts than he is。' 'It'd effect my livelihood。 Probably kill off my business altogether。 A few years ago I was living at subsistence…level out of one small hardware shop。 Somebody's floorboards came loose； so I sold them half a pound of nails。 Then the workers flocked into the new station。 I've now got three shops。 I employ a dozen people。 If your dad had his way； I'd be back to relying on the sale of a few nails and screws for my living。 See what I mean？'
'You really hate my dad； don't you？'
'No more than a lot of other tradesmen…like McLellan； and the rest of the council。 Not him personally； just what he's trying to do。'
'If it wasn't for him you wouldn't get what you've had off me tonight； would you？ Or maybe some other girl would serve just as well。'
'Don't be silly。' He slipped an arm around her； but she drew back； turning her head to avoid his lips。
'Don't start being bloody stupid。'
Tm not。 But all we ever do is screw on the back seat of your bloody car。 Twice in the last month you've taken me for a drink。 Eating out seems to have gone by the board； or are you afraid somebody will see us together in a restaurant？' The anger and sarcasm was building up in her voice。 'And what about this divorce？ You haven't mentioned that lately； either。 Seems to me you're getting the best of both worlds； David。 Well； you'd better sort something out； and e up with a solution。'
'I bought you that new outfit last week；' he muttered sullenly。
'Gee； thanks； Sugar Daddy。' She turned her head away towards the window。 'You're turning me into a bloody prostitute now。 I'd sooner do it for hard cash。'
He let in the clutch angrily； and slammed the gears。 Ten minutes later they were parked a hundred yards from the Coyle house； the engine ticking over。
'I'm sorry。' He managed； successfully this time； to put his arm around her。 Her lips met his； even though they were unresponsive。
'Get something worked out then；' she snapped。
'OK。' He squeezed her arm。 'I will。 I promise。 But don't forget one thing。 Your old man is knocking off that bird in his office。 It wouldn't do for that to get around town； would it？'
Sarah Coyle was sobbing quietly to herself as she let herself in the house； and crept up the stairs。
Richard Coyle stubbed out his cigarette in the battered tin lid which served as an ashtray。 He reached for his shirt and crumpled jeans which lay on the floor； and looked up at the naked girl stretched out on the frayed couch above him。
She smiled back at him； provocatively opening her thighs； which had once been very shapely but were now turning slightly to fat。
Turning away from her； Richard rested on one elbow； and gazed at his surroundings。 One small dirty room。 Dust on every item of shabby furniture； crumbled plaster on the floor where it had spilled from the multitude of cracks in the ceiling； a curtained alcove containing a stained loo and washbasin； an unmade bed。 A heap of crumpled blankets and sheets。 The smell。 It was his wish that they made love on the couch nowadays； he had told her he found it more erotic there。 He didn't want to offend her。 Sometimes he wondered why he came here every night。 Sex； of course…there was no other reason。 He could get it elsewhere； no doubt about that。 But would he have got it any better？ He smiled to himself。
Linda Lakin was attractive…there was no doubt about that。 A bath； a visit to the hairdresser's； and she would probably be classed as beautiful。 She was always at her best naked。 In a way she was like a drug…and he knew he was addicted to her。
'All this time and you've never taken me 'ome to meet your folks。'
'I don't like my home。 Or my folks。 My dad's a cunt。'
'I've read 'is bloody newspaper。 D'you think it'll ever 'appen？'
'What？'
'Poison leakin' out and killin' us all。 Or p'raps an explosion。'
'Naw。 It's a bee in the old man's bonnet。 I told you he's nuts。 The guys I work with would lynch him if they could。 They've e from all over the country； depressed areas； and now they've found jobs he's trying to take the bread out of their mouths。 Mine too。'
'You could always work at 'is place on that newspaper。'
'That'll be the day。 If they close down the nuclear station； I'll go on the dole。 I wouldn't mind that。 All the same； I'd hate to see him get his way。'
'Do you 。 。 。 do you love me； Richard？'
Always the same question。 Every night。
'Of course I do。'
'That's all that matters then。 Maybe one day we could get married； or live together； or something。'
He groaned inwardly。
'Maybe。'
'Even though you know I was on the game up in Aberdeen？'
'What the hell's that got to do with it？' he grabbed angrily for his shirt； and began pulling it over his head。 'We're all on the game in some way or other； whether it's sex or something else。 My boss is on the game； or rather the government is。 A prostitution of power。 Anyway； I like a woman who's been around a bit。 My sister's a whore。'
'Get away！' A hoarse cackle of disbelief。
'It's a fact。 This guy buys her clothes； drink； presents； meals out at expensive restaurants； and in return she lets him stuff her。 Where's the difference between you and her； eh？'
Linda Lakin reached for another cigarette。 She felt good at his words。 On a par with these Coyles。 Perhaps not socially； but at least morally；
Soon Richard was fully dressed。 Buttoning his denim jacket； he glanced towards the door。 His lust was spent； and it was time to be gone。
'I wouldn't let anyone else 'ave it with me； honest。' She swung herself off the couch； and gripped him by the arm。 'What's 'appenin' tomorrow night？'
'A few of us are going down to that transport place just off the motorway。' He resisted the temptation to push her aside。 'Bikers。 There's too many in this place now。 Used to be just us regulars。 Some of the bastards have got to be sorted out。 It's been on the cards for weeks now。'
'I'd like to e with you。'
'You might get hurt。'
'So might you。'
'No； there's too many of us。 We'll give the bastards something they won't forget in a hurry。 These things have to be attended to when a town gets too big。'
'You're talkin' like your dad； now。' There was vicious…ness in her tone。 'Keep the place for the privileged few。'
He kissed her without passion； descended the rickety flight of wooden stairs to the street below； and angrily kicked the Norton into life。 That bitch's last remark had cut deep。
Hell； the last thing he would do would be to get like his dad。
It was the first time for weeks that Coyle had not kissed Anne at least once before she brought him his cup of morning coffee。 He was obviously worried； and that worried her。 She wondered if he wanted to postpone their evening's date； and did not know how to tell her。 She took it out on the keys of her typewriter。
At 10。15 the telephone rang。 She briefed Coyle on the internal line。
'It's the union。' Her tone was formal； cold。
A click of annoyance…but not directed at her。 She knew how he hated the union。 All unions。
He was on the line for twenty minutes。 Then she heard the receiver slammed down； and he came out of his office。
'Further proof that one man can't beat the system；' he spoke bitterly。
'What's up now？'
�
