Ritual by David Pinner Page B

out! Quicker than I thought!
    Anna stared at him. So things are not as right as they seem. Here is my mother’s chance for further probing. And maybe he’s interested in probing. I should imagine he’s very stimulating. And, by God, I need some stimulation. A real Nature Ramble!
    ‘Are you interested in strawberries?’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But perhaps you could help me?’
    David acknowledged to the itch in his body that she was very attractive.
    She continued; ‘Children, go home!’
    The children stood arms akimbo. They were not going to be pushed around by the desire which rippled along her nipples. She realised she would have to make them a promise. She called Billy over and whispered in his ear. ‘Billy, bring the Gang to the giant oak at about half past six tonight, and we will continue our Nature Ramble. Now, don’t argue! We have a lot to do before tomorrow night.’
    She curled one of her fingers in his greasy hair until it hurt. He went on grinning.
    ‘Right, Gang,’ he shouted. ‘We’re off, and don’t argue! There’s a lot to be done!’
    In five seconds he and his companions had disappeared. David noticed that Gypo’s keening had subsided. Gypo levered himself to his feet and grinned. The hate was working overtime.
    ‘Now, Copper, don’t you go crawling out of your depth! She’s mine! I own her! It’s the only thing I own! If I smell you on her, anywhere, breasts, navel, anywhere, you’ll find yourself with a broken neck, broken!’ Shouldering his bow, he ran painfully into the trees, shouting; ‘Broken! Broken!’ like the chorus to a pop song.
    Anna laughed. ‘Let me introduce myself,’ she said, as she took him by the hand. ‘I am Anna Spark. And you’ve come to investigate my sister’s death, haven’t you?’
    Unbelievable, thought David, but there must be a catch. ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘Tell me—what you intend to tell me.’ He gripped her index finger with his signet ring.
    ‘Oh, I shan’t tell you anything. You’re supposed to be the policeman.’
    She slid her hand out of his hot grip.
    ‘Maybe Mum will put you up whilst you pursue your investigations. I’m studying Mythology at Bristol University—I think. I always believe it is better to put the books on the table, don’t you?’
    She moved towards the village, allowing her hips to continue the conversation.
    Anna turned her head to see if her rhythmical magnet was functioning properly. It was. She stopped, pursing her nipples towards him and then swung on. He caught her up as they reached the village. The amusement on his part had worn threadbare. He began to ask her pertinent questions about her sister and parents. The only answer he received was the electricity of her sheer-stockinged thighs rustling together as she walked. He was conscious her flirting was a strange blend of desire and secrecy. Yes, she had secrets which she intended to remain secrets. Even under his X-Ray scrutiny. And the secrets were by no means all applicable to her personally. No, they were secrets whispered for centuries in this village. They were the magic secrets of ordinary routine. Instinctively he felt that the village was as ripe as a sweating pear, and when it fell and burst, and burst it would, it would pollute the air.
    He continued to question. She continued to flirt. They reached Spark’s cottage. Progress—nil. Anna was about to go in through the shop but read her father’s poetic note; ‘Am in Pub. Spark’. So she took him down the shadowed alley and paused, expectant. He brought his face close to hers.
    ‘Forgive me for saying this, Miss Spark, but your upper lip is sufficiently voluptuous, that in my opinion your lipstick over-emphasises it. Plus the fact, kissing could be messy.’
    She produced a lace handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped the offending lipstick. Then she pouted. Hanlin lisped his tongue on the underside of his teeth.
    ‘Do you think your Mother will mind?’
    Anna