arms up around his head. Soon he would get up and go away and leave them and they’d be safe. She peered out through the dark, hoping for that to happen.
Suddenly she could see the man very clearly in a big oblong of light. The back door was open and light was coming from the kitchen. She wrinkled up her nose and made a face because the man’s face and beard were a mass of blood. Her knees had looked like that when she fell over and hurt herself on the gravel.
Mother walked out into the light and pointed something she had in her arms and there was a tremendous explosion. The man tumbled over backward and jerked a bit and shuddered and lay still. In the little castle the dogs set up a wild barking. Mother came back into the house and shut the door and the light went out.
FOUR
I N the late afternoon, going by the lanes instead of the A road, Sean and Liza reached Vanner’s fruit farm. This was orchard country, acre after acre of close-pruned stubby apple trees in long lines and then acre after acre of Cornice pears and Louise Bonnes. The big wooden crates that would take the apples were stacked on top of one another in the corners of orchards. Liza saw women mounted on steps picking the big green Cornice. Very few of the pears had been left to fall, but the apple crop, Discovery and Jonagold, had been a heavy one, and under the trees the ground was scarlet with abandoned fruit.
Sean took the left-hand turn into Vanner’s land. He had been there before and knew where to go. The long straight macadamized roadway was bounded on either side by lines of alders, neat quick-growing trees to make high hedges. He had to pull in to let a car with its soft top down go past in the other direction, coming from the farm shop. A woman was driving. She had shiny blond hair and red lipstick on, gold earrings and red varnish on her nails, and Liza stared at her, fascinated.
“You’re not still thinking women are all dark and men are all fair, are you, love?”
“Of course I’m not. I was only four. ”
“Because there’s other ways of telling the difference.” He put his hand in her lap and moved the fingers into her crotch. “Bet you can’t talk while I’m doing that. Go on, try. I bet you can’t.”
“I can do that too,” said Liza, reaching for him. “It’ll be worse for you, you won’t be able to drive.”
He laughed and gasped and grabbed her hand. “Better leave off till we get there or I’ll have to stop the van and we’ll cause an obstruction.”
The parking place for caravans was in a remote spot where the orchards ended and the strawberry fields began. The strawberries were long over, the people who came to pick their own departed, and the fields a desolate waste of brown tendrils and dying leaves. A line of extremely tall Lombardy poplars on a high bank divided these fields from the Discovery orchard, and under the shadow of the poplars, on a rutted area of dried mud and scrubby grass, stood a sign that said: PICKERS’ VANS PARK HERE. Beside the sign was a water tap, and an arrow spraypainted on cardboard pointed to the waste disposal.
Other pickers there might be, but there was only one caravan. It was parked at the far end up against the bank and looked as if no one was living in it or had lived in it for a long time. Its door and windows were shut and its blinds down. Just the same, Sean parked his car and van as far away from it as he could.
He didn’t uncouple the van from the car or get the generator going or fill the water tanks. He and Liza, without a word, with scarcely an exchanged glance, got out of the car, went into the van, and made love. They delayed for just the time it took to pull the bed down.
“I tell you what,” said Sean, when it was finished and she was lying in his arms, warm and damp and sighing with pleasure. “Now we’re here and got a base, you can get yourself to the family planning or whatever and go on the Pill. Then I won’t have to keep on using these things,
Suddenly she could see the man very clearly in a big oblong of light. The back door was open and light was coming from the kitchen. She wrinkled up her nose and made a face because the man’s face and beard were a mass of blood. Her knees had looked like that when she fell over and hurt herself on the gravel.
Mother walked out into the light and pointed something she had in her arms and there was a tremendous explosion. The man tumbled over backward and jerked a bit and shuddered and lay still. In the little castle the dogs set up a wild barking. Mother came back into the house and shut the door and the light went out.
FOUR
I N the late afternoon, going by the lanes instead of the A road, Sean and Liza reached Vanner’s fruit farm. This was orchard country, acre after acre of close-pruned stubby apple trees in long lines and then acre after acre of Cornice pears and Louise Bonnes. The big wooden crates that would take the apples were stacked on top of one another in the corners of orchards. Liza saw women mounted on steps picking the big green Cornice. Very few of the pears had been left to fall, but the apple crop, Discovery and Jonagold, had been a heavy one, and under the trees the ground was scarlet with abandoned fruit.
Sean took the left-hand turn into Vanner’s land. He had been there before and knew where to go. The long straight macadamized roadway was bounded on either side by lines of alders, neat quick-growing trees to make high hedges. He had to pull in to let a car with its soft top down go past in the other direction, coming from the farm shop. A woman was driving. She had shiny blond hair and red lipstick on, gold earrings and red varnish on her nails, and Liza stared at her, fascinated.
“You’re not still thinking women are all dark and men are all fair, are you, love?”
“Of course I’m not. I was only four. ”
“Because there’s other ways of telling the difference.” He put his hand in her lap and moved the fingers into her crotch. “Bet you can’t talk while I’m doing that. Go on, try. I bet you can’t.”
“I can do that too,” said Liza, reaching for him. “It’ll be worse for you, you won’t be able to drive.”
He laughed and gasped and grabbed her hand. “Better leave off till we get there or I’ll have to stop the van and we’ll cause an obstruction.”
The parking place for caravans was in a remote spot where the orchards ended and the strawberry fields began. The strawberries were long over, the people who came to pick their own departed, and the fields a desolate waste of brown tendrils and dying leaves. A line of extremely tall Lombardy poplars on a high bank divided these fields from the Discovery orchard, and under the shadow of the poplars, on a rutted area of dried mud and scrubby grass, stood a sign that said: PICKERS’ VANS PARK HERE. Beside the sign was a water tap, and an arrow spraypainted on cardboard pointed to the waste disposal.
Other pickers there might be, but there was only one caravan. It was parked at the far end up against the bank and looked as if no one was living in it or had lived in it for a long time. Its door and windows were shut and its blinds down. Just the same, Sean parked his car and van as far away from it as he could.
He didn’t uncouple the van from the car or get the generator going or fill the water tanks. He and Liza, without a word, with scarcely an exchanged glance, got out of the car, went into the van, and made love. They delayed for just the time it took to pull the bed down.
“I tell you what,” said Sean, when it was finished and she was lying in his arms, warm and damp and sighing with pleasure. “Now we’re here and got a base, you can get yourself to the family planning or whatever and go on the Pill. Then I won’t have to keep on using these things,
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