The Jonah (17 page)

‘Smeared across the ground, you mean.’

‘Delicately put’ He looked up at the rise above them, his body tense, and Ellie remembered the sound she had heard as she’d dragged herself clear.

‘I think whoever it was has gone, Jim. I’m not certain now, but I thought I heard a car start up after we’d been hit. It drove away.’

He seemed relieved. ‘You’re sure? You’re sure you heard it?’ His fingers clenched her arm tightly.

‘I’m not positive, but I’m pretty certain.’

Kelso breathed a deep sigh.

‘You’re not serious, are you – about not bringing a team in?’ She tried to see his features, but the night was too dark, the dirt on his face making it even more
difficult.

‘I am. It’s too soon. And I really think you should get out of this now.’

‘Oh no, not again. We’ve been through all this – this doesn’t change things. I’m still part of this operation and I say we bring in help.’

‘All right, stay. But no one else – not yet. I’ve seen too many operations ruined by wallies stamping their bloody big feet all over the place.’

She pulled him around. ‘It’s this jinx thing, isn’t it? You’re afraid it’s all going to go wrong again.’

‘Leave it, Ellie, just leave it alone!’

‘No!’ she shouted back.

‘Give me a couple more days, then. Let me dig up something better than guesses or suspicions.’

‘So long as I stick with you.’

Relucantly, he agreed, knowing it would be useless to argue. He wished, though, he could tell her of his real fears.

Kelso winced as she wiped away the dried blood from the gash in his cheek.
Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep and his only other injury, apart from bruising, was a skinned shin. They had returned to the caravan, Kelso checking that it was empty before allowing the
girl to enter. Both had showered to remove the caked mud and dirt from their faces and hands, their clothes discarded into a soiled bundle in a corner of the caravan’s kitchen. Ellie had on a
light-coloured dressing-gown she had brought with her, her hair loose and wet around her face; Kelso, who did not possess such a garment, wore only jeans, a towel draped around his shoulders.

‘Let me look at your leg,’ she said and he tugged at his denims to reveal his scraped shin. Ellie pulled a face. ‘I wish I had something to put on it – I’m afraid I
wasn’t prepared for any rough stuff. I’ll get something in the town tomorrow.’

It’s no problem. Are you cut anywhere?’

She shook her head. ‘I had a good look in the shower. I ache a bit and my neck feels stiff – otherwise I’m okay. Apart from my legs feeling like jelly, that is.’

‘Could you use a drink?’

‘I could.’

He moved off the kitchen stool and reached inside the cupboard overhead where his bottle of Scotch was stored. ‘D’you want some water with this?’

‘I think I need it straight.’

Kelso placed two empty tumblers on the table and half-filled them. He raised his own glass towards her and she returned the gesture before taking a stiff swallow. Her body shivered, but she felt
better. He opened the cigarette packet lying on the table and offered her one.

‘For Christ’s sake, Jim, haven’t you noticed yet? I don’t smoke.’

‘Oh?’ He looked surprised. ‘Yeah.’ He lit one for himself.

‘Do you think we’ll be safe here, tonight?’

Kelso smiled reassuringly, but she thought there was little confidence behind it. ‘I think they’ve done their worst for one night.’

‘So you no longer think it was some kind of bizarre accident?’

For a moment he seemed uncertain. ‘You heard a car drive away. My guess is that someone was trying to frighten us—’

‘They succeeded.’

‘—or was trying to kill us. Either way, they probably think it worked: we’re either scared, dead, or badly injured. They won’t trouble us again until they know which and
I doubt they’d like to cause a commotion on the caravan site – we’ve got one or two neighbours, you know.’

‘That’s a comfort.’ The Scotch, the frightening experience they had been through, and the alcohol consumed before, were combining to make her feel light-headed. ‘I think
I’m going to be sick,’ she said.

Ellie made a lunge for the sink and her eyes blurred as the wonderful dinner she had had found its way back into the outside world. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized between the
painful retching, ‘I’m sorry.’

Kelso went over to her and rubbed her heaving back in sympathy. He said nothing as he pulled her damp hair back behind her neck, away from her face, and held it there until her body had ceased
its spasmodic jerks. He reached for a paper towel as she straightened and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes, mouth, then blew her nose on it. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized yet
again.

Kelso removed the cigarette from the corner of his mouth and kissed the top of her head. ‘Don’t worry about it; I feel a little queasy myself.’

Ellie leaned against him and felt his body momentarily stiffen. Then it relaxed and he was holding her, one hand gently rubbing her back as if to soothe her.

‘We’d better turn in,’ he said after a while.

She looked up at him and he deliberately ignored the question in her eyes. Ellie sagged against the kitchen sink as he went through into the lounge area and unfolded the settee/bed. He
straightened the blankets, then switched off the light. Ellie splashed cold water onto her face before going through to her own bunk bed.

It was much later that movement in the room woke Kelso from a fitful sleep. The caravan was in total darkness and he silently cursed himself for not having left at least one light on. His body
tensed and bad dreams fled back into their secret recesses to wait again for slumber’s release. A noise, a shuffling sound, then a weight on the bed. Kelso fought back the paralysing dread
and began to unfold his body, ready to strike before the intruder had a chance to.

The covers were lifted and a warm, naked body slid in next to him.

‘Ellie.’

‘Hush, Jim,’ she whispered as she moved in close. He felt a hand slide around his waist.

‘Ellie, please don’t.’ The words were spoken tightly, as though he were forcing himself to say them. She could feel him trembling.

‘I’m scared, Jim. I don’t want to sleep alone.’

‘No, you don’t understand . . .’

‘Can’t you feel the atmosphere? It’s so cold. Maybe I’m just frightened after what happened – I can’t stop thinking about it – but I can’t sleep
alone tonight. Please don’t make me.’

She felt his erection pressing against her stomach and pushed even closer, wanting his whole body to touch hers. Juices had already begun to flow within her and her flesh seemed to flare into a
separate excitement wherever it made contact with his.

He moaned, and it might have been a final protest, but his arm reached behind her and its grip tightened. He moved against her, his body smothering hers, and she reacted with him, hands sliding
down his back, reaching his buttocks, squeezing, pulling. She felt her breasts being touched, roughly at first, then the strokes becoming more gentle, more tender. He kissed her and the kiss, too,
after the initial ferocity, became more gentle. Their lips were warm, moist, pressed together with restrained softness, until her tongue sought his, sliding between his teeth, yearning for its
mate. Then his mouth was hard again, demanding and receiving an equal pressure, both of them aroused to an intensity that made them breathless.

His lips moved down to her neck, her shoulder, and then to her breasts. They lingered there and she felt a nipple drawn in, gently bitten, made wet by his tongue. She held his head down and
groaned at the pleasure his mouth aroused in her. His hands found her thighs, caressed them, one hand searching inwards, touching her hair, fingers dipping between her legs, finding entry and
becoming moist with her.

Ellie reached for him and his penis was hot, its hardness covered by soft skin that was eager to be grasped. He was big and it sent a new surge of excitement through her; she wanted to be filled
by him, wanted to be penetrated and pinned to the bed so that she was helpless, powerless to move. Using both hands, she urged him into her, and he complied, lifting his body and moving across her.
Her legs parted even further, her knees raised slightly, and she shivered as he felt her inner thighs, deliberately increasing her anticipation before touching the tip of his penis to her damp
hidden lips. She guided him in, his own hands now taking the weight of his body, creating a space between them so that entry could be more controlled, not wanting any tightness or pain to spoil the
pleasure. Ellie sucked him in greedily, her deft fingers feeding in his full length, demanding all, devouring him until he was deep inside her and their pubic hair was matted together. She cried
out and raised her legs around him, closing all her limbs over his body like night-time petals closing around their stamens.

They moved against each other, slowly and deliberately at first, relishing the sweet friction, Kelso withdrawing almost to his tip before plunging smoothly back into the vacuum he had just left,
making her moan then sigh with each stroke. The movement became faster and Ellie could no longer prolong the agony; there would be time later for more leisurely lovemaking. She gripped him hard,
her legs unfolding and pressing down into the bed beneath her, pushing against it for further thrust. Kelso felt the pressure of his own jucies, the wild build-up, the incredible strain that had to
be broken, the turbulence inside that had to be released. They both cried out as their bodies shuddered, once, twice, too many times to count, each spasmodic lunge a joy of its own, each one a
separate exhilaration that led to the next, the intensity slowly dwindling until everything had gone, their movements weaker, their passion dissolving into a strength-sapping calmness.

His weight bore down on her and she relished it; she stroked his back, fingers running beneath the thick hair that hung over his neck. Ellie was about to speak when the windows of the caravan
began to rattle.

Kelso pushed himself away from her and sat up in bed, his body a pale shape in the darkness. The rattling increased and, slowly at first, the walls began to vibrate. It was as though a fierce
wind was hurling itself around the caravan, yet there was no sound of a gale, no whistling of air. Ellie raised herself on an elbow and grasped his arm. The vibration became a rocking motion.

‘What is it, Jim? What’s happening?’ She clung to him now, but he seemed unaware of her.

Abruptly, it stopped.

And silence pressed against them.

Then Kelso began to moan. ‘No, oh no, no . . .’

The fence brought them to a halt.

‘That’s it,’ Kelso said, consulting the unfolded map. ‘That’s the beginning of the Eshley Hall estate.’

The five-foot-high wooden fence bridged the narrow waterway, a stout beam set into the banks supporting the upright struts.

‘Does this fence enclose the whole estate?’ Ellie asked.

‘I think so. Down as far as the riverbank, anyway. It runs into a brick wall nearer the road.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We climb over. I’ll go first and have a quick scout around – I didn’t notice any signs of guard dogs when I saw Slauden yesterday, but it won’t hurt to make sure.
Will you be all right here for a while?’

‘Of course I will.’ She instantly regretted snapping at him, but his distant behaviour after the strange happening the night before had begun to irritate her.

‘Okay,’ he said, dropping his shoulder-bag onto the grass. He grabbed the top of the fence and hauled himself up. Within seconds he had been swallowed up by the heavy foliage on the
other side of the fence. Ellie squatted with her back against the wooden struts, using his bag to sit on. The grass was damp, the air misty dull. She pulled her collar tight and looked up at the
sky; the clouds were grey and bulky, darkly ominous as though a storm were brewing.

Why was he acting so strangely? In their lovemaking she had felt truly close to him, not just because of the sex act, for more than their bodies had fused together: it was as though something
deep inside both of them had reached out, met, and blended. It couldn’t have been just her own imagination – she knew he felt it, too. But after the caravan had stopped its peculiar
shaking, he had turned away from her, a low moaning coming from him for a short while, which then faded into a moody silence. She had checked the windows but, as far as she could tell, there was no
one lurking outside. Returning to the bed, Ellie had asked him what was wrong. Her own mind had reconciled itself to the fact that, although she had heard no sound, it must have been the wind that
had rocked the trailer. There was no other explanation. Kelso would not answer her; he remained curled up in the bed, his knees drawn up, shoulders hunched inwards. She got in next to him and
pulled the bedclothes up around them both, snuggling close to his back. Eventually, he had turned and put his arms around her, but still he refused to speak. Ellie had fallen asleep in his embrace
and had found him gone from the bed the following morning.

He was in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and staring down into a cup of half-drunk coffee. Although their conversation appeared normal enough, she sensed his aloofness, his withdrawal into his
own inner thoughts. For some reason she, herself, could not understand, Ellie did not mention the previous night’s events, or the distance that had sprung up between them. She felt hurt, but
refused to show it. His aloofness had persisted during their long hike along the waterway; he seemed to be avoiding her gaze, only occasionally helping her when the terrain became rougher. In the
end, her patience having run out, she was ready to confront him over his strange attitude when they had spotted the fence straddling the water. The moment gone, she could now only sit and inwardly
fume. Yet there was a vulnerability about him that took the edge off her anger. She wanted to hold him, to draw out that underlying sadness that seemed to be at odds with the other side of him,
that part of his nature that was friendly, relaxed – and passionate. Oh yes, he was passionate! He was like two separate people, one being amiable and amusing, the other sullen, morose. What
the hell had happened to make him that way? Was this jinx complex so real that it could cause such a personality split? Maybe a good headshrink was what he needed, someone who could help him unload
his guilt. Perhaps that was what it was really all about: he really believed he was responsible for the misfortunes of others. And could that be the reason for his behaviour towards her? Did he
think the bad luck would rub off on her? Oh Christ, he really did need help.