Read The Insulators for Free Online Page B

picked up Paul’s inert body and carried it away.
    Janey began to sob.
    Philip did not whisper again but, arm firmly about her waist, led her towards the bed, soon now he bade her: “Lie down.” She felt him pulling off her shoes, and loosening the high neck of her dress, where it had suddenly become very tight. She felt his hands at her waist, but they did not linger. He eased her onto the bed and then, quite skilfully, pulled blankets and an eiderdown from under her and then rolled them over her, making her into a cocoon. Next he put a hand to her hair and drew the strands away from the gap between neck and pillow, to make her more comfortable. Finally, he hitched himself into a sitting position, and rested one hand on the soft eiderdown. All this time she had shivered with the emotional tension, but gradually she slackened, as she grew warmer. He put on a bedside light which was not too bright, and smiled down at her.
    “Like some coffee or tea?”
    “N-no, thank you.”
    “Are you warm enough?”
    “I will be s-s-soon.”
    “Good,” he said, and there was a funny kind of tone in his voice when he went on: “It’s very romantic.”
    “Oh, Philip,” she said. “Please don’t joke. That was—horrible.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t. I think it’s made one thing clear, though. Only very highly paid mercenaries would behave with that kind of brutality – or political fanatics. My bet is that they are political fanatics but we need not worry about that now.” He hitched himself into a more comfortable position, hand still resting lightly at her waist. It made a warm spot, there. Her shivering stopped and for a while they were silent, until suddenly Janey moved, and took his hand, and drew it inside the covering, warm upon her breast. She was still horrified and frightened, and her only comfort was from Philip; and she could see him looking down at her, smiling faintly. She wanted to shut out the horror she had seen; she wanted so much to be comforted.
    She said in a whisper: “Lie close to me.”
    He put his lips to her ear and said very, very softly: “If I do, I shall want you very much.”
    She drew his head down; and kissed him . . .
    And soon, they were lying close, aquiver with desire.
    And soon, they were lying still, desire past but warmth and comfort with them and the memory of the hideous sight outside almost gone. His left arm was beneath her neck, cradling and his right hand gentled her soft skin. For a while she could think only of the warmth and comfort, but suddenly she thought: He’s going to leave me, and she drowsed off with that in her mind. Another thought stabbed; a fear-thought, and she stiffened. Her lips parted but before she could utter a word he closed them with his; and when at last he drew them away, he said: “Softly, darling; speak very softly.”
    So she said in a quivering whisper what she wanted desperately to shout: “You can’t escape. They’d stop you like they stopped Paul.”
    And in her mind’s eye she could see the six men, striking and striking and striking again.

 
5: Escape . . . ?
     
    “Janey,” Philip whispered, “you saw what happened to Paul.”
    “Yes. That’s why you can’t—”
    “That’s why I must escape,” he retorted. “This isn’t a simple industrial consortium; this is something ugly, deadly, cold-blooded. The outside world must be told.”
    They were so close together and warm and snug. It was an age since she had lain like this, seeming as if in one way she had slipped back to the loveliest days of her marriage with Bruce. There was something else, a sense, an awareness, rather than knowledge. It was right to be here with Philip. No matter what had led up to it, no matter what his real purpose, they were one of another. It was as if she belonged to him, had suddenly become part of him. She was too tense in her mind and too relaxed in her body to think beyond that awareness, but one thing she did