Night Over Water

by Ken Follett

  She was no longer sure why it had made her so angry to learn that Mervyn was sharing the honeymoon suite with Nancy Lenehan. She just thought Mark should have sympathized with her and supported her. Instead he had questioned her right to feel that way and implied that she must still be in love with Mervyn. How could Mark say that, when she had given up everything to run away with him!

  She looked around. On her right, Princess Lavinia and Lulu Bell were carrying on a desultory conversation. Neither had slept at all because of the storm, and both looked exhausted. To her left, across the aisle, the F.B.I, man, Ollis Field, and his prisoner, Frankie Gordino, ate in silence. Gordino’s foot was handcuffed to his seat. Everyone seemed tired and rather grumpy. It had been a long night.

  Davy, the steward, came in and took away the breakfast plates. Princess Lavinia complained that her poached eggs had been too soft and her bacon overdone. Davy offered coffee. Diana did not take any.

  She caught Mark’s eye and tried a smile. He glared at her. She said: “You haven’t spoken to me all morning.”

  “Because you seem to be more interested in Mervyn than me!” he said.

  Suddenly she felt contrite. Maybe he had a right to feel jealous. “I’m sorry, Mark,” she blurted out: “You’re the only man I’m interested in, truly.”

  He reached out and took her hand. “Do you mean it?”

  “Yes, I do. I feel such a fool. I’ve behaved so badly.”

  He stroked the back of her hand. “You see ...” He looked into her eyes, and to her surprise she saw that he was close to tears. “You see, I’m terrified you’ll leave me.”

  She had not been expecting that. She was quite shocked. It had never occurred to her that he was frightened of losing her.

  He went on. “You’re so lovely, so desirable, you could have any man, and it’s hard to believe you want me. I’m scared you’ll realize your mistake and change your mind.”

  She was touched. “You’re the most lovable man in the world—that’s why I fell for you.”

  “You really don’t care for Mervyn?”

  She hesitated, only for a moment, but it was enough.

  Mark’s face changed again, and he said bitterly: “You do care for him.”

  How could she explain? She was no longer in love with Mervyn, but he still had some kind of power over her. “It’s not what you think,” she said desperately.

  Mark withdrew his hand. “Then set me straight. Tell me how it is.”

  At that moment Mervyn entered the compartment.

  He looked around, located Diana and said: “There you are.”

  She immediately felt nervous. What did he want? Was he angry? She hoped he would not make a scene.

  She looked at Mark. His face was pale and tense. He took a deep breath and said: “Look here, Lovesey—we don’t want another row, so maybe you should just get out of here.”

  Mervyn ignored him and spoke to Diana. “We’ve got to talk about this.”

  She studied him warily. His idea of a conversation could be one-sided: a “talk” sometimes turned out to be a harangue. However, he did not look aggressive. He was trying to keep his face expressionless, but she had a notion he was feeling sheepish. That made her curious. Cautiously she said: “I don’t want any fuss.”

  “No fuss, I promise.”

  “All right, then.”

  Mervyn sat down beside her. Looking at Mark, he said: “Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?”

  “Hell, yes!” Mark said vociferously.

  They both looked at her, and she realized she would have to decide. On balance she would have liked to be alone with Mervyn, but if she said that, she would hurt Mark. She hesitated, afraid to side with one or the other. Finally she thought: I’ve left Mervyn, and I’m with Mark; I should take his side. With her heart pounding, she said: “Say your piece, Mervyn. If you can’t say it in front of Mark, I don’t want to hear it.”

  He looked shocked. “All right, all right,” he said irritably; then he composed himself and became mild again. “I’ve been thinking about some of the things you said. About me. How I became cold toward you. How miserable you’ve been.”

  He paused. Diana said nothing. This was not like Mervyn. What was coming?

  “I want to say that I’m really sorry.”

  She was astonished. He meant it, she could tell. What had brought about this change?

  He went on. “I wanted to make you happy. When we were first together, that was all I wanted to do. I never wanted you to be miserable. It’s wrong that you should be unhappy. You deserve happiness because you give it. You make people smile just by walking into a room.”

  Tears came to her eyes. She knew it was true; people did love to look at her.

  “It’s a sin to make you sad,” Mervyn said. “I shan’t do it anymore.”

  Was he going to promise to be good? she wondered with a sudden stab of fear. Would he beg her to come back to him? She did not want him even to ask. “I’m not coming back to you,” she said anxiously.

  He took no notice of that. “Does Mark make you happy?” he said.

  She nodded.

  “Will he be good to you?”

  “Yes, I know he will.”

  Mark said: “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here!”

  Diana reached across and took Mark’s hand. “We love each other,” she said to Mervyn.

  “Aye.” For the first time, the hint of a sneer appeared on his face, but it passed quickly. “Aye, I think you do.”

  Was he going soft? This was not like him at all. How much did the widow have to do with the transformation? “Did Mrs. Lenehan tell you to come and speak to me?” Diana said suspiciously.

  “No—but she knows what I’m going to say.”

  Mark said: “I wish you’d hurry up and say it.”

  Mervyn looked scornful. “Don’t push it, lad—Diana’s still my wife.”

  Mark stood his ground. “Forget it,” he said. “You have no claim on her, so don’t try to make one. And don’t call me lad, Grandpa.”

  Diana said: “Don’t start that. Mervyn, if you’ve got something to say, come out with it, and stop trying to throw your weight around.”

  “All right, all right. It’s just this.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to stand in your way. I’ve asked you to come back to me and you’ve turned me down. If you think this chap can succeed where I’ve failed, and make you happy, then good luck to you both. I wish you well.” He paused, and looked from one to the other of them. “That’s it.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Mark was about to say something, but Diana got in first. “You bloody hypocrite!” she said. She had seen in a flash what was really going on in Mervyn’s mind, and she surprised herself with the fury of her reaction. “How dare you!” she spat.

  He was startled. “What? Why ... ?”

  “What rubbish, saying you won’t stand in our way. Don’t you condescend to wish us luck, as if you were making some kind of sacrifice. I know you only too damn well, Mervyn Lovesey: the only time you ever give something up is when you don’t want it anymore!” She could see that everyone in the compartment was listening avidly, but she was too riled to care. “I know what you’re up to. You had it off with that widow last night, didn’t you?”

  “No!”

  “No?” She watched him carefully. She thought he was probably telling the truth. “It was close, though, wasn’t it?” she said; and she could see by his face that she had guessed right this time. “You’ve fallen for her, and she likes you, and now you don’t want me anymore—that’s the truth of the matter, isn’t it? Now admit it!”

  “I’ll not admit any such thing—”

  “Because you haven’t got the courage to be honest. But I know the truth and everyone else on the plane suspects it. I’m disappointed in you, Mervyn. I thought you had more guts.”

  “Guts!” That stung him.

  “That’s right. But instead you had to make up a pitiful story
about not standing in our way. Well, you have gone soft—soft in the head. I wasn’t born yesterday and you can’t fool me so easily!”

  “All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’ve made a peace offering and you’ve spurned it. Please yourself.” He stood up. “From the way you talk, anybody would think I was the one who had run off with a lover.” He went to the doorway. “Let me know when you get wed. I’ll send you a fish slice.” He went out.

  “Well!” Diana’s blood was still up. “The nerve of the man!” She looked around at the other passengers. Princess Lavinia looked away haughtily, Lulu Bell grinned, Ollis Field frowned disapprovingly and Frankie Gordino said: “Attagirl!”

  Finally she looked at Mark, wondering what he had thought of Mervyn’s performance and her outburst. To her surprise he was grinning broadly. His smile was infectious, and she found herself grinning back. “What’s so funny?” she said with a giggle.

  “You were magnificent,” he said. “I’m proud of you. And I’m pleased.”

  “Why pleased?”

  “You just stood up to Mervyn for the first time in your life.”

  Was that true? She thought it was. “I suppose I did.”

  “You’re not scared of him anymore, are you?”

  She thought about it. “You’re right. I’m not.”

  “Do you realize what that means?”

  “It means I’m not scared of him.”

  “It means more than that. It means you don’t love him anymore.”

  “Does it?” she said thoughtfully. She had been telling herself that she stopped loving Mervyn ages ago, but now she looked into her heart and realized that it was not so. All summer, even while she was deceiving him, she had remained in his thrall. He had retained some kind of hold over her even after she left him, and on the plane she had been full of remorse and had thought of going back to him. But not any longer.

  Mark said: “How would you feel if he went off with the widow?”

  Without thinking, she said: “Why should I care?”

  “See?”

  She laughed. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s over at last.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  As the Clipper began its descent to Shediac Bay in the St. Lawrence Gulf, Harry was having second thoughts about steal ing Lady Oxenford’s jewels.

  His will had been weakened by Margaret. Just to sleep with her in a bed at the Waldorf Hotel, and wake up and order breakfast from room service, was worth more than jewels. But he was also looking forward to going to Boston with her, and living in lodgings, helping her to become independent, and getting to know her really well. Her excitement was infectious, and he shared her thrilled anticipation of their simple life together.

  But all that would change if he robbed her mother.

  Shediac was the last stop before New York. He had to make up his mind quickly. This would be his last chance to get into the hold.

  He wondered again if he could find a way to have Margaret and the jewels both. First of all, would she ever know that he had stolen them? Lady Oxenford would discover the loss when she opened her trunk, presumably at the Waldorf. But no one would know whether the jewels had been taken on the plane, or before, or since. Margaret knew Harry was a thief, so she would certainly suspect him; but if he denied it, would she believe him? She might.

  Then what? They would live in poverty in Boston while he had a hundred thousand dollars in the bank! But that would not be for long. She would find some way of returning to England and joining the women’s army, and he would go to Canada and become a fighter pilot. The war might last a year or two, maybe longer. When it was over, he would take his money out of the bank and buy that country house; and perhaps Margaret would come and live there with him ... and then she would want to know where the money had come from.

  Whatever happened, sooner or later he would have to tell her.

  But later might be better than sooner.

  He was going to have to give her some excuse for his staying on the plane at Shediac. He could not tell her he felt ill, for then she would want to stay on board with him, and that would spoil everything. He had to make sure she went ashore and left him alone.

  He glanced at her across the aisle. At that moment she was fastening her seat belt, pulling in her stomach. In a vivid flash of imagination he saw her sitting there naked, in the same pose, with her bare breasts outlined by the light from the low windows, a tuft of chestnut hair peeping out from between her thighs, and her long legs stretched across the floor. Would he not be a fool, he thought, to risk losing her for the sake of a handful of rubies?

  But it was not a handful of rubies, it was the Delhi Suite, worth a hundred grand, enough to turn Harry into what he had always wanted to be, a gentleman of leisure.

  Nevertheless he toyed with the idea of telling her now. I’m going to steal your mother’s jewels. I hope you don’t mind. She might say Good idea. The old cow never did anything to deserve them. No, that would not be Margaret’s reaction. She thought herself radical, and she believed in redistribution of wealth, but that was all theoretical: she would be shocked to the core if he actually dispossessed her family of some of their riches. She would take it like a body blow, and it would change her feelings about him.

  She caught his eye and smiled.

  He smiled back guiltily, then looked out of the window.

  The plane was coming down to a horseshoe-shaped bay with a scattering of villages along its edge. Behind the villages was farmland. As they came closer, Harry made out a railway line snaking through farms to a long pier. Close to the pier were moored several vessels of different sizes and a small seaplane. To the east of the pier were miles of sandy beaches, with a few large summer cottages dotted among the dunes. Harry thought how nice it would be to have a summer house on the edge of the beach in a place like this. Well, if that’s what I want, that’s what I’ll have, he said to himself; I’m going to be rich!

  The plane splashed down smoothly. Harry felt less tension: he was an experienced air traveler now.

  “What time is it, Percy?” he asked.

  “Eleven o’clock, local time. We’re running an hour late.”

  “And how long do we stay here?”

  “One hour.”

  At Shediac a new method of docking was in operation. The passengers were not landed by launch. Instead a vessel that looked like a lobster boat came out and towed the plane in. Hawsers were attached to both ends of the plane, and it was winched in to a floating dock connected to the pier by a gangway.

  This arrangement solved a problem for Harry. At previous stops, where the passengers had been landed by launch, there had been only one chance to go ashore. Harry had consequently been trying to think of some excuse for staying on board throughout this stopover without letting Margaret stay with him. Now, however, he could let Margaret go ashore and tell her he would follow in a few minutes, and she was less likely to insist on staying with him.

  A steward opened the door and the passengers started putting on their coats and hats. All the Oxenfords got up. So did Clive Membury, who had hardly spoken a word all through the long flight——except, Harry now recalled, for one rather intense conversation with Baron Gabon. He wondered again what they had been talking about. Impatiently, he brushed the thought aside and concentrated on his own problems. As the Oxenfords were going out, Harry whispered to Margaret: “I’ll catch you up.” Then he went into the men’s room.

  He combed his hair and washed his hands, just to have something to do. The window had been broken in the night somehow, and now there was a solid screen fixed to the frame. He heard the crew come down the stairs from the flight deck and pass the door. He checked his watch and decided to wait another two minutes.

  He guessed almost everyone would get off. A lot of them had been too sleepy at Botwood, but by now they wanted to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. Ollis Field and his prisoner would stay on board, as always. It was odd t
hat Membury went ashore, though, if he was supposed to keep an eye on Frankie. Harry was still intrigued by the man in the wine red waistcoat.

  The cleaners would be coming aboard almost immediately. He listened hard: he could hear no sound from the other side of the door. He cracked it an inch and looked out. All was clear. Cautiously, he stepped out.

  The kitchen opposite was empty. He glanced into number 2 compartment : empty. Looking toward the lounge, he saw the back of a woman with a broom. Without further hesitation, he went up the staircase.

  He trod lightly, not wanting to advertise his approach. At the turn of the stairs, he paused and scrutinized as much of the floor of the flight cabin as he could see. No one was there. He was about to go on when a pair of uniformed legs came into view, walking across the carpet away from him. He ducked back around the comer, then peeped out. It was the assistant engineer, Mickey Finn, the one who had caught him last time. The man paused at the engineer’s station and turned around. Harry pulled his head back again, wondering where the crewman was headed. Would he come down the stairs? Harry listened hard. The footsteps went across the flight deck and became silent. Last time, Harry recalled, he had seen Mickey in the bow compartment, doing something with the anchor. Was the same thing happening now? He had to take a chance on it.

  He went on up silently.

  As soon as he was high enough he looked forward. His guess appeared to have been right: the hatch was open and Mickey was nowhere to be seen. Harry did not stop to look more closely, but hurried across the flight deck and passed quickly through the door at the rear end into the hold area. He closed the door softly behind him and breathed again.

  Last time he had searched the starboard hold. This time he went into the port side.

  He knew immediately that he was in luck. In the middle of the hold was a huge steamer trunk in green-and-gold leather with bright brass studs. He felt sure it belonged to Lady Oxenford. He checked the tag: there was no name, but the address was THE MANOR, OXENFORD, BERKSHIRE.

  “Bingo,” he said softly.

  It was secured by one simple lock, which he snapped with the blade of his penknife.