CHAPTER TWO
A couple of days later, around four-thirty in the afternoon, Tim Greensleeves came into the cubby-hole I use for an office,
wiping his hands on a lump of oily waste.
Tim was seventeen; a tall, emaciated lad with big steel-
rimmed spectacles that made him look like an owl, un-tidy tow-
coloured hair and an unusually sharp, shrewd mind. He had
been with me a year now, and knew as much about car
engines as I did.
I paid him four pounds ten a week, and he was worth
twice that amount. The business didn’t warrant a hired hand,
but I had to have him. If I were called out on a break-down job, someone had to be left in charge. I kept telling myself I’d have to get rid of him, but so far, I had put off the inevitable decision.
At least, he hadn’t ever asked for a rise, and he had a
dog-like devotion for Ann that prejudiced me towards him.
“Hello, Tim,” I said, shoving aside the ledger I was
working on. “Fixed those brakes yet ?”
“Yes, Mr. Collins. There’s a young lady out there, asking
for you.”
“Okay.” I pushed back my chair and stood up. “You might
check the petrol tanks, Tim. I don’t want to buy any this week if we can run on what we’ve got.”
He gave me a quick look and nodded. I hadn’t told him
how bad business was, but he was no fool. He must have
guessed I was having a struggle to meet the weekly bills.
I went into the dim, big shed that served as a workshop
and garage. Apart from the equipment, the ten-ton truck Tim was working on, and my own truck, it looked pretty deserted and forlorn. There was room enough in that shed to house twenty big trucks.
A girl was wandering around the tool benches: a girl in a
dark blue linen dress, hatless, and carrying a lizard skin bag
slung from her shoulder.
“Good afternoon,” I said, wondering what she wanted.
“Anything I can do for you?”
She turned.
Have you ever tampered with a faulty light switch and got
a sodden jolt up your arm? That was the feeling I got when
she turned: a jolt that went through me and set my heart
bumping unevenly and turned my mouth dry.
Don’t jump to the conclusion that she was a beauty: she
wasn’t, although her face and figure compelled attention, and
any man would look at her twice, maybe three times, but there was more to it than that. She had that thing men go for: call it s*x if you like: it was more than s*x. It was an animal
se.nsuality; something right out of the jungle.
Her face was a little too long and narrow for any claim to
beauty, but she had high cheek-bones that gave her a Chinky
look, and her eyes were dark and sultry and held a half-
concealed promise of unspeakable things.
Then she had a shape on her that was as provocative as
it was blatant. She wore that dress not to conceal her figure
but to accentuate it. Her small, heavy bre@sts strained against the dark linen as if trying to break loose. Her waist was small It curved out to compact, solid hips that in turn tapered down to long, slim legs neat in nylon stockings.
“Hello, Harry,” she said and smiled, showing even white
teeth, and when she smiled there was a sparkle in her eyes
that was something to see.
Every so often, during the past two days, she had crept
into my mind, and I had wondered if I would see her again. I had half convinced myself that she wouldn’t come, but here she was, out of the darkness now, better, more exciting, and much more dangerous than my imagination had made her when I had let my mind think of her.
“This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you again.” I
scarcely recognized my voice: it sounded like a husky croak
She was looking me over with the same intent curiosity
as I was looking at her.
“I said I’d come.”
I suddenly became aware that Tim was staring at us, and
I pulled myself together with an effort.
Her eyes went from me to Tim. They stayed on Tim long
enough for him to turn red and move off to the other end of the shed.
“Funny looking boy. Does he help you?”
“He’s smarter than he looks.”
She laughed.
“He’d have to be. I want to garage my car here.”
I knew instinctively that I should tell her I had changed
my mind. The way I was feeling about her now was
dangerous. I shouldn’t see her again. I should stop it before it went any further. I knew that. I knew if I saw much of her, there could be trouble.
“This isn’t a lock-up.” I sounded as feeble as I felt.
“Besides, you’ll probably find something nearer you.”
Her dark eyes flickered over my face. Her pencilled
eyebrows came down in a frown.
“I’m not asking for a lock-up, and it’s near enough, but if
you don’t want my car, just say so.”
“It’s not that I don’t want it. I was thinking of your
convenience.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll pay thirty shillings
a week and five shillings when I want the car cleaned. Is it on or isn’t it?”
My mind was saying it wasn’t on, but my voice said,
“That suits me. If you’ll keep it over there against that wall it won’t be in my way, and it’ll be easy for you to get in and out.”
The frown went away and her eyes sparkled again.
“That’s fine.” She opened her bag. “I’ll pay a month in
advance. I’d like a receipt.”
“Come into the office then.”
We walked to the back of the shed, passing Tim who
was getting the measuring rod for the tanks out from behind a
lot of junk that was lying on the floor. He glanced up and
stared at her after she had passed him.
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