“Come in here beside me,” she said fondly. He sat on the edge of the bed. She stroked his shoulder, “I have been warned about men like you.” She turned his head in her hands. “And I thought my family were odd.”

He laughed.

“Did you like them?”

“I do, and I’m afraid of them. This is all new to me, you must understand.” She hesitated. “And your mother can be very severe.”

“She’s disappointed in me.”

“And so she should be.”

“Will you come for a walk down the village?”

“Wait a minute till I hold you.” She reached out to him. “I have a desperate longing for a kiss.” She kissed him gently. She kissed him softly. “Will you come to live with me?”

“In Belfast?”

“Yes.”

“Why not,” he said.

“I like your room. I suppose you had much vigorous exercise here in your day.”

“If you start talking like that,” laughed Jack, “you’ll only disturb yourself.”

“I used to fantasize about Engelbert Humperdinck when I was a young girl.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Yes, and male wrestlers. The bigger the better.”

“That’s disgraceful.”

“I always liked stout people.” She blew softly into his ear. “It gives me anxious moments thinking of you as a boy sleeping here.”

“Careful,” said Jack.

She kissed his ear. “So you were a dancer.” She grew playful. “And you have lovely legs. Will you do a little dance in the nude for me?”

“Whisht, Catherine.”

“Go on. You’re great on your feet.”

“She’ll hear you. She’ll hear you laughing.”

“Go on Jack! Just for me. Off with the trousers and dance!”

“Sh!”

“I want to see it swinging round.”

“Ca-th-er-ine!”

The earth was steaming. She went out to take her clothes in from the line. A flat expanse of fog was rushing in from the sea across Corrloch. As she took her clothes down she handed them on to him. He saw that nearly all her garments were black. Black tights, black knickers, black skirts. Black blouses, black shawls, black T-shirts. Black.

“And I had a black heart,” she said, “till I met you.”

Then through the fog a group of hares came bounding down the garden.

“Jack,” she whispered.

“I see them,” he said softly.

The hares stopped for a long uncertain moment to look at the couple. They were leathery and brown and honey-eyed. With slow thrusts of their hips they moved off, then sat and listened. Then ran away a little, then stooped and squatted again. Their eyes were skilful and wild. Their coats weathered and grim. They loped off.

22. Through the Downhill Tunnel

22

Through the Downhill Tunnel