1958 - Hit and Run

Home > Other > 1958 - Hit and Run > Page 3
1958 - Hit and Run Page 3

by James Hadley Chase


  I was glad to get out of the room. His cynicism left a nasty taste in my mouth, and I was in two minds whether to take the elevator or walk down the stairs. Then the picture she had made, standing before that mirror, came surging into my mind, and I walked away from the elevator to the head of the stairs.

  There I paused and looked down on the landing below. It was in darkness, and the pang of disappointment that stabbed me hurt. Then I realized that it was only ten minutes after nine o’clock. It wasn’t likely she would be in her bedroom at this hour.

  I turned back and took the elevator down to the ground floor.

  Watkins was waiting for me in the hall.

  ‘I don’t think Mr. Aitken looks so well tonight,’ I said as I walked with him to the front door.

  ‘He is a little feverish, sir. I imagine it is to be expected.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll be in again tomorrow night.’

  ‘I’m sure Mr. Aitken looks forward to your visits,’ he said as he opened the front door.

  I said good night to him and stepped out into the hot moonlit night. The big door closed behind me.

  I walked slowly down the steps to where I had left the Cadillac. When I reached the bottom step, I turned and looked up at the house. Except for Aitken’s room, which showed a light, the rest of the many windows were shiny, black eyes that stared down at me. I wondered where she was. Was she out or was she somewhere at the back of the house?

  All day I had been waiting for this chance to see her again. I had to make a considerable effort not to remain there, staring up at the house in the hope a light would come up in one of the windows and I would see her.

  For all I knew Mrs. Hepple or even Watkins was watching me from behind the darkness of one of the windows. This was no time to stand staring, so I went over to the car, opened the door, pitched by briefcase on to the back seat and slid under the driving wheel.

  She was there, sitting beside me, her hands folded in her lap. Although it was dark in the car, I could just make out the shape of her head which she held a little on one side as she looked at me. I knew it was her. It had to be her. It couldn’t have been anyone else or I wouldn’t have felt the way I was feeling. My heart wouldn’t be pounding like this.

  For perhaps five seconds I stared at her, aware of the faint smell of the perfume she was wearing and hearing her quick, gentle breathing, and in those five seconds everything around me went out of focus.

  It was a moment in my life I will never forget.

  II

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Did I startle you? I didn’t think you would be out so soon.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you did.’ My voice sounded husky. ‘I didn’t expect ...’

  She laughed.

  ‘Is this your car?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s a lovely car. I’m crazy about cars. When I saw it, I just had to get in. I like it better than Roger’s Bentley. I bet it’s fast.’

  ‘Yes: it’s pretty fast.’

  She leaned back against the cushion of the seat and stared up at the roof. The moonlight coming in through the open window lit up her profile. She looked breathtakingly beautiful.

  ‘Roger was telling me about you,’ she said. ‘He says you’re going to be his new partner.’

  ‘It’s not absolutely fixed.’

  I was sitting bolt upright, my clenched fists resting on my knees, my mind still stupid with the surprise of finding her here, talking to me as if she had known me all her life.

  ‘He told me it was. Will you like living in New York?’

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘I wish I could live there.’ She lifted her arms and clasped her hands behind her head. I could see her breasts lift and strain against the thin wool of the sweater she was wearing. ‘Palm City is dreadfully dull, don’t you think?’

  ‘I suppose it must be for someone your age.’

  She turned her head and stared at me.

  ‘You sound as if you’re old, but you’re not. You’re not thirty yet, are you?’

  ‘I’m thirty-one.’

  ‘You must be awfully clever. Roger says you are putting twenty thousand dollars into the business. How did you get all that money when you’re only thirty-one?’

  ‘My father left me most of it. The rest I’ve saved.’

  ‘Do you want to put all that money into Roger’s business?’

  I was bewildered by her calm, direct questions.

  ‘You sound very interested,’ I said.

  ‘I am.’ She turned her head and smiled at me. ‘I’ve always been interested in the way men make money. The only certain way a girl can become rich is to get married. Men can go out and make money. I think it’s a much more satisfactory way. Of course you were lucky to have a father to leave you something, weren’t you?’

  ‘I guess I was.’

  She sat up and, reaching out, she rested her hand on the dashboard.

  ‘I love this car. Will you teach me to drive?’

  ‘There’s nothing to teach.’ My voice was unsteady. ‘It’s an automatic drive. You press the starter and it drives itself.’

  She looked at me.

  ‘Believe it or not, I’ve never driven a car. Roger won’t let me touch any of his, and he has four.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘He’s terribly possessive. If I want to go anywhere, I go on a bicycle. It’s fantastic, isn’t it? His excuse is I can’t drive. If I learned, then he would have to lend me a car. Will you teach me?’

  I didn’t hesitate.

  ‘Why, yes. If that’s what you want.’

  She clasped her hands around her knees and pulled her knees up to her chin. I could see now she was wearing light-coloured slacks. ‘I want that more than anything else in the world. Will you teach me now or have you something else to do?’

  ‘You mean right now?’

  ‘Yes, if you can spare the time.’

  ‘Well, all right. We’d better change places,’ and I began to get out of the car, but she put her hand on my coat sleeve, stopping me. The feel of her fingers sent a hot wave of blood crawling up my spine.

  ‘Not here. They’ll see us and they’ll tell Roger. Let’s go somewhere where no one can see us.’

  ‘They? Who do you mean?’

  ‘Mrs. Hepple and Watkins. Have you met Mrs. Hepple?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t like her. She’s sneaky. Don’t you think she’s sneaky?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I just saw her last night. I haven’t spoken to her.’

  ‘She doesn’t approve of me. She likes to get me into trouble. Roger listens to her.’

  I suddenly saw the danger of this.

  ‘If Mr. Aitken doesn’t want you to learn to drive ...’

  She put her hand on my arm, and that stopped me short.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re another one of them who is afraid of him. If you are, I’ll find someone else to teach me to drive.’

  ‘It’s not that I’m afraid of him, but I can’t very well do something that is against his wishes.’

  She put her head a little on one side and looked searchingly at me.

  ‘Don’t my wishes mean anything, then?’

  We looked at each other, then I turned on the ignition.

  ‘If you want to learn how to drive, I’ll teach you,’ I said, my heart slamming against my ribs.

  I moved the gear lever to ‘drive’ and trod down on the gas pedal. The car went down the long driveway like a bullet out of a gun. At the gates, I stood on the brake pedal and, when the tyres bit, I swung the car on to the main highway and again gave it the gun.

  For about five minutes I drove fast with the speedometer needle flickering around the nineties, then I slowed and turned off on to a secondary road and pulled up.

  ‘My!’ she exclaimed, and she sounded a little breathless. ‘You can drive! I’ve never been driven as fast as that before.’

  I got out and walked around the car.

  ‘Move over,’
I said, opening the offside door. ‘You can’t drive where you’re sitting.’

  She slid across the bench seat and I got in and sat in her place. I could feel the slight warmth of her body still on the seat and that made the blood quicken in my veins.

  ‘Look, it’s simple. Here’s the gear lever. All you have to do is shift it down a notch, like this, then

  you press down on the pedal by your right foot. When you want to stop, you take your foot off that pedal and put it on the big one here on your left. That’s the brake. Got it?’

  ‘Why, it’s easy,’ she said, and in one movement she flicked down the gear lever and trod down hard on the gas.

  The car took off like a crazy thing. She had absolutely no idea how to steer a car. I doubt if she looked where she was going.

  For two or three seconds I was so startled I couldn’t do anything. In those seconds we shot off the road, mounted the grass verge, skated along it with the offside wheels skidding, and then we slammed back on to the road again. As we tore towards a hedge on the other side of the road I grabbed the wheel and got the car straight.

  ‘Take your foot off the gas!’ I yelled at her and I managed to kick her shoe off the pedal. Still holding the wheel, I stamped down on the brake and brought the car to a violent stop.

  Those had been hectic seconds. In another moment we could have been wrecked.

  I turned off the ignition and turned to look at her.

  The moonlight was coming through the open car window and I could see her clearly. She was completely unruffled and she was smiling. She looked so lovely she took my breath away.

  ‘It’s got power,’ she said. ‘I was a little heavy-footed, wasn’t I? I shouldn’t have pressed down so hard. Let’s try again.’

  ‘Now, wait a minute,’ I said. ‘That’s a terrific way to attempt suicide. You don’t stamp down ...’

  ‘I know,’ she said impatiently. ‘You don’t have to tell me. I pressed down much too hard. Let’s try again.’

  ‘Will you watch the road when the car is moving? The idea is to keep straight.’

  She looked quickly at me and laughed.

  ‘I was taken by surprise,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think it had so much power.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ I said and turned on the ignition. ‘Take it dead easy: gently with the gas.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  She moved the gear lever into position and we took off around twenty miles an hour. Again she showed she hadn’t an idea how to steer a car. We bounced up on the grass verge and then back on to the road, only this time we were going at a reasonable speed and I could control the car. I kept my hand on the steering wheel and, for fifty yards, we kept a straight course.

  ‘I don’t see how I can possibly learn if you do everything,’ she said and pushed my hand away.

  We promptly darted towards the hedge. I got my foot on the brake pedal and stopped the car just in time.

  ‘You don’t seem to have the knack of this,’ I said. ‘Did Mr. Aitken ever try to teach you to drive?’

  ‘Roger?’ She laughed. ‘Oh, no, he wouldn’t have the patience.’

  ‘You’re trying to drive too fast and you’re not watching the road. Let’s start again, and let’s go a lot more slowly.’

  This time she succeeded in driving a hundred yards at fifteen miles an hour, dead in the centre of the road.

  ‘That’s the idea,’ I said. ‘That’s fine. Keep going like that and you’ll get the feel of the thing.’

  Then I saw, coming towards us, the headlights of a fast-moving car.

  ‘Pull over to your right,’ I said, ‘and go slow. Watch the road.’

  She pulled in too sharply and too far, and the offside wheels mounted the grass verge. The approaching car dipped its headlights and kept coming. I was sure she was going to pull the car off the verge and that would take her right into the path of the other car, so I stamped on the brake pedal and brought the Cadillac to a jerking stop. The other car swept past and went roaring on into the darkness.

  ‘I wish you would let me do it,’ she said a little impatiently. ‘I could have managed.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s the only car I’ve got.’

  She turned to me and laughed.

  ‘This is fun. I’m loving it. I know in a little while I’ll be able to drive. Will you lend me your car sometimes if Roger won’t let me use any of his?’

  ‘You’ll have to have a few more lessons before you go solo.’

  ‘But when I can – will you lend me this car?’

  ‘All right, but it will be difficult to fit in a time. I take it to work every day.’

  ‘Perhaps when I want it, you could take the bus.’

  ‘That’s a thought, but I’m not wild about taking a bus. Besides, I use the car quite a lot when I’m at work.’

  ‘On very special occasions, you could take a taxi, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I suppose I could.’

  She peered at me.

  ‘What you are trying to say is you don’t want to lend me the car,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s the truth, isn’t it?’

  If she had but known it, I would have given her the car if she had asked me for it: that’s how far gone I was.

  ‘It’s not that,’ I said. ‘I’m just scared you’ll hit something or someone will hit you. You will want a lot more practice before you can go out alone. Anyway, where do you want to go to on your own?’

  ‘No particular place. I just want to drive. I want to feel the wind rushing by and to move fast. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.’

  ‘Well, okay, when you can handle this car safely, you can borrow it.’

  She put her hands on mine. The touch of her cool flesh really got me going.

  ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘Yes, I mean it.’

  ‘I can have the car when I want? All I have to do is to telephone and tell you when I want it and you’ll let me have it?’

  ‘That’s all you have to do.’

  ‘Honest?’

  ‘Yes – honest.’

  She sat staring at me for a long moment, then she gently patted my hand.

  ‘I think you’re the nicest man I have ever met.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ I said, and my voice was husky. ‘If you want the car you can have it. Now let’s have another try at driving. Let’s see if you can handle her better than last time.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said and turned on the ignition.

  We drove along the road, and this time she was really pretty good, and even when two fast-moving cars snarled past her, she managed to keep the Cadillac on a straight course.

  ‘I’ve got the hang of it now,’ she said. ‘I feel it,’ and she increased speed.

  I shifted a little closer to her so I could grab the wheel if I had to. My foot moved near the brake pedal, but she was keeping a straight course, and after a few moments, she really gunned the engine. The speedometer needle moved into the eighties.

  ‘Better ease off,’ I said. ‘You’re going too fast.’

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve always wanted to drive like this. What a car! What a beauty!’

  ‘Ease off now!’ I said sharply and put my foot gently on the brake pedal.

  A car came out of the night with blazing headlights and stormed towards us. We were bang in the centre of the road. I trod on the brake.

  ‘Get to your right!’

  She swung the car to the right too sharply. If I hadn’t trod down hard on the brake we would have hit the grass verge and we could have turned over. I grabbed the wheel and straightened the car as the other car stormed past us with a loud blast of its horn.

  I stopped the Cadillac.

  ‘Did you have to do that?’ she asked, looking at me. ‘I was going fine.’

  ‘You certainly were.’ I had had enough for one night. My nerves were sticking out of my skin. ‘All you want is practice. That’ll do for tonight. I’ll take over now.’

  �
�Well, all right.’ She peered at the clock on the dashboard. ‘Goodness! I must get back. He’ll be wondering where I am.’

  Those words made a conspiracy out of our association. They gave me a queer, bittersweet sensation.

  ‘Will you drive really fast?’ she went on as we changed places. ‘Really fast?’

  I pressed down on the gas pedal. In a few seconds, the Cadillac was tearing along at ninety miles an hour.

  She hugged her knees and stared through the windshield at the two big blobs of light from the headlamps as they raced ahead of us. I had an idea she was surrendering herself to the sensation of speed and was revelling in it.

  We reached the gates of the Gables at twenty minutes to eleven.

  As I pulled up, she let out a long, deep sigh.

  ‘You can drive,’ she said. ‘You really can. I loved that. I could have gone on at that speed forever. When am I going to have my second lesson?’

  I hesitated for a brief moment. At the back of my mind, I knew this could be dangerous.

  ‘Now look,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to get you into trouble. If your husband really doesn’t want you to drive...’

  She put her cool fingers on my wrist.

  ‘He won’t ever know – how could he know?’

  Feeling her flesh on my flesh made me lightheaded and utterly reckless.

  ‘I’ll be here at eight tomorrow night,’ I said. ‘I should be through just after nine.’

  ‘I’ll wait in the car.’ She opened the door and got out. ‘You don’t know how much I’ve enjoyed this. I get so bored, but this has been the nicest and most exciting evening I’ve ever spent. I’ve really loved it.’

  The hard white light of the moon showed me she was wearing lemon-coloured slacks and a bottle green sweater. She had a shape on her under that sweater that made me catch my breath.

  ‘My name is Lucille,’ she said. ‘Will you remember that?’

  I said I would remember it.

  She smiled at me.

  ‘Then we meet tomorrow. Good night.’

  She waved to me and then started to walk up the long drive towards the house.

 

‹ Prev