When The Lion Feeds Part 31

Another one? asked Sean. No thanks She stood up and went across to the window. It's getting dark now, I hate the darkness. Darkness distorts things so; what is bad in the daylight is unbearable at night. I'm sorry, Candy, I wish I could help you She whirled and came to him, her arms circled tight round his neck and her face pale and frightened pressed to his chest.

Oh, Sean, please hold me, I'm so afraid!

He held her awkwardly. I don't want to think about it. Not now, not now in the darkness, she whispered. Please help me. Please help me not to think about it I'll stay with you. Don't get yourself upset. Come and sit down. I'll get you another drink. No, no, she clung to him desperately. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to think. Please help me! I can't help you, I'll stay with you but that's all I can do. Anger and pity mixed together in Sean like charcoal and saltpetre; his fingers tightened hard on her shoulders, digging into the flesh until they met bone. Yes, hurt me. That way I'll forget for a while. Take me to the bed and hurt me, Sean, hurt me deep. Sean caught his breath. You don't know what you're saying, that's crazy talk. It's what I want, to forget for a little. Please, Sean, please. I can't do that, Candy, Duff's my friend. He's finished with me and I with him. I'm your friend too. Oh, G.o.d, I'm so alone. Don't you leave me too. Help me, Sean, please help me. Sean felt his anger slide down from his chest and flare up, cobra-headed, from his thighs. She felt it also. Yes, oh please, yes. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. He stood over her while he tore off his gown. She moved on the bed shedding her clothing and spreading herself to meet him, to take him in and let him fill the emptiness. He covered her quickly bayoneting through the soft veil and into the warmth of her body. There was no desire in it, it was cruel and hard drawn out to the frontiers of endurance. For him an expression of anger and pity; for her an act of renunciation. Once was not enough. Again and yet again he took her, until there were brown smudges on the bedclothes from his bleeding back, until her body ached and they lay entwined, wet and tired from the fury of it.

In the quiescence of after-pa.s.sion Sean spoke softly. It didn't help, did it? Yes, it did. Physical exhaustion had weakened the barriers that held back her grief. Still holding onto him, she started to cry.

A street lamp outside the room threw a silver square of light on the ceiling. Sean laid on his back and watched it, listening to Candy's sobs. He recognized the moment they reached their climax and followed their decline into silence. They slept then and later before the day woke together as if by arrangement. You are the only one who can help him now Candy said.

Help him do what? asked Sean. Find what he is looking for. Peace, himself, whatever you want to call it. He's lost, you know, Sean. He's lost and lonely, almost as lonely as I am. I could have helped him, I'm sure I could. Duff lost? Sean asked cynically. You must be mad! Don't be so blind, Sean, don't be misled by the big talk and the grand manner. Look at the other things. Like what? asked Sean.

She didn't answer for a while. He hated his father, you know. I guessed as much from the little he told me The way he revolts at any discipline. His att.i.tude to Hradsky, to women, to life. Think about it, Sean, and then tell me if he acts like a happy man. Hradsky did him a disservice once, he just doesn't like him, Sean defended Duff. Oh, no, it's much deeper than that. In a way Hradsky is an image of his father. He's so broken up inside, Sean, that's why he clings to you. You can help him Sean laughed outright. Candy, my dear, we like each other that's all, there are no deep and dark motives in our friendship. Don't you start getting jealous of me now Candy sat up and the blankets slipped down to her waist. She leaned towards Sean and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swung forward, heavy, round and silver-white in the half light.

There's a strength in you, Sean, a kind of solid sureness in you that you haven't discovered yet. Duff has recognized it and so will other unhappy people. He needs you, he needs you very badly. Look after him for me, help him to find what he seeks. Oh! Nonsense, Candy, Sean muttered with embarra.s.sIr ment.

Tromise me you'll help him. It's time you went back to your room, Sean told her. People will start talking Promise me, Sean. All right, I promise.

Candy slipped out of the bed. She dressed quickly. Thank you, Sean, goodnight. For Sean, Johannesburg was poorer without Duff: the streets were not so busy, the Rand Club was drearier and the thrills at the Stock Exchange not so intense. However, there was work to do; his share and Duffs as well.

It was late every evening when the conferences with Hradsky and Max ended and he went back to the Hotel.

In the reaction from the day's tension, when His brain was numb and his eyes burned, there was little energy to spare for regret. Yet he was lonely. He went to the Opera House and drank champagne with the crowd there. One of the girls did the Can-Can on the big table in the centre of the room and when she stopped in front of Sean and Trevor Heyns, with her forehead touching her knees and her petticoats hanging forward over her shoulders, Sean let Trevor whip her pants down, a week before he would have punched Trevor in the nose rather than concede the honour.

it wasn't so much fun any more. He went home early.

The following Sat.u.r.day noon Curtis and Francois came into the office for the weekly progress meeting. When they had finished and Hradsky had left, Sean suggested, Come along with me, we'll go and have a pot or twelve at the Grand National Bar, baptize the weekend so to speak.

Curtis and Francois fidgeted in their chairs.

We had arranged to meet some of the other boys down at the Bright Angels, boss. That's fine, I'll come along with you, said Sean eagerly, the prospect of being with ordinary men again was suddenly very attractive to him. He felt sickened of the company of those who shook his hand and smiled at him while they waited for a chance to wipe him off the board.

It would be good to go along with these two and talk and not stocks and shares, to laugh with men who didn't give a digginn if C. R. C. s. .h.i.t sixty shillings on Monday. He'd get a little drunk with Francois and Curtis; later on perhaps he'd have a fight, an honest, snortmig, stand-up fight. G.o.d, yes, it would be good to be with men who were clean inside, even if there was dirt under their nails and the armpits of their shirts were stained with sweat.

Curtis glanced quickly at Francois. There'll be just a crowd of roughnecks down there, boss, all the diggers come in on a Sat.u.r.day. that's fine, said Sean Let's go. He stood up and b.u.t.toned his dove-grey coat; the lapels were edged in black watered silk and matched the black pearl pin in his tie. He picked up his cane from the desk.

Come on, let's get moving!

They ran into the noise from the Bright Angels a block before they reached the building. Sean grimed and quickened his step like an old gun dog with the scent of the bird in its nostrils again. Francois and Curtis hurried along on either side of him. There was a big digger standing on the bar counter. Sean recognized him as one of his men from the Little Sister Mine the man's body was tilted back to balance the weight of the demijohn he held to his lips and his throat jerked regularly as he swallowed. The crowd around Ins feet were chanting: Think it, down, down, down, down, down. The digger finished, he threw the bottle against the far wall and belched like an air-locked geyser. He bowed to acknowledge the applause and then he caught sight of Sean standing in the doorway. He wiped his mouth guiltily-with the back of his hand and jumped down off the counter. The other men in the crowd turned and saw Sean and the noise tapered off. They spread out along the bar in silence. Sean led Francois and Curtis into the room. He placed a pile of sovereigns on the counter.

Set them up, barman, take the orders. Today is Sat.u.r.day and it's time to tie the dog loose. Cheers, Mr Courtney. Good luck, sirGezondheid, Mr Courtney.

Their voices were subdued with respect.

drink up, men, there's plenty more where that came from. Sean stood with Francois and Curtis at the bar.

They laughed at his jokes. His voice was loud with good fellowship and his face flushed with happiness. He bought more drinks. After a while his bladder started making its presence felt and he went through the back door into the washrooms. There were men talking in there; he stopped before he rounded the edge of the screen into the room.

... what's he want to come here for, hey? This isn't the mucking Rand Club. Shh! He'll hear you, man, do YOU Want to lose your job? I don't give a tilmn. Who does he think he is, "Drink up, boys, there's plenty more where that came from, I'm the boss, boys, do as you're told, boys, kiss my a.r.s.e, boys! Sean stood paralyzed. Pipe down, Frank, he'll go just nowThe sooner the better, say I, the big dandy b.a.s.t.a.r.d with his ten-guinea boots and gold cane. Let him go back where he belongsYou're drunk, man, don't talk so loudSure I'm drunk, drunk enough to go in there and tell him to his face..

Sean backed out through the door and walked slowly across the bar to Francois and Curtis. I hope you'll excuse me; I've just remembered there's something I've got to do this afternoon That's too bad, boss. Curtis looked relieved. Perhaps some other time, hey? Yes, perhaps some other time. They were pleased to see him when he went up to the Rand Club. Three men nearly fought one another to buy him a drink.

He had dinner with Candy that night and over the liqueurs he told her about it. She listened without interruption until he finished. They didn't want me there, I don't see what I've done to them that they should dislike me that way And it worries you? she asked. Yes, it worries me. I've never had people feel like that towards me before. I'm glad it worries you. She smiled gently at him. one day you're going to grow into quite a nice person. But why do they hate me? Sean followed his original line of thought.

They're jealous of you, you say this man said, "tenguinea boots and gold cane", that is what's behind it.

YOU are different from them now, you're rich. You can't expect them to accept that. But I've never done anything to them, he protested. You don't have to. One thing I've found in this life for everything you get you have to pay a price. This is part of the payment you have to make for success h.e.l.l, I wish Duff was here, said Sean.

Then Duff would explain to you that it doesn't matter, wouldn't he? said Candy. "Who gives a d.a.m.n for them, laddie, the unwashed herd? We can do without them, " she mimicked. Sean scratched the side of his nose and looked down at the table. Please, Sean, don't ever let DUff teach you that people don't matter. He doesn't believe it himself, but he's so convincing. People are important. They are more important than gold or places or, or anything Sean looked up at her. I realized that once; when I was trapped in the Candy Deep. I saw it very clearly then in the darkness and the mud. I made a resolution. He grinned sheepishly.

I told myself I'd never hurt anyone again if I could help it. I really meant it, Candy. I felt it so strongly at the time, but, but.. Yes, I think I understand. That's a big resolution to make and a much bigger one to keep. I don't think any single experience is enough to change a person's way of thinking. It's like building a wall brick by brick. You add to it a little at a time until at last it's finished. I've told you before, Sean, that you have a strength in you. I think one day you'll finish building your wall, and when you do, it will have no weak spots.

The next Tuesday Sean rode up to Xanadu for the first time since Duff had left. Johnson and four of the clerks from the office were at work in the ballroom, packing and labelling the presents. Nearly finished, Johnson? Just about, Mr Courtney, I'll send a couple of wagons up tomorrow morning to fetch this lot. Yes, do that. I don't want them lying around here any longer. He went up the marble staircase and stood on the top landing. The house had a dead feeling to it: was new and was waiting for people to come into it and bring it to life. He went down the corridor, stopping to look at all the paintings that Candy had chosen. They were oils in soft pastels, woman's colours.

We can do without these, I'll get some with fire in them, scarlets and blacks and bright blues. He pushed open the door to his own bedroom. This was better. vivid Persian rugs on the floor, walls panelled in dark satiny wood and a bed like a polo field. He lay on the bed and looked up at the scrolled ornate plaster ceiling. I wish Duff were back, we can do some real living in this house. He went downstairs again.

Johnson was waiting at the foot of the stairs. All finished, sir. Good man! Off you go, then. He went through into the study and walked across to the gun rack. He took down a Purdey shotgun, carried it to the french windows and looked at it in the light. His nostrils flared a little at the nostalgic smell of gun oil. He brought the gun up to his shoulder, felt the true exciting balance of it and enjoyed it. He swung the barrels in an arc across the room, following the flight of an imaginary bird, and suddenly Duff's face was in his sights. Sean was taken so by surprise that he stood with the gun trained at Duff's head.

Don't shoot, I'll come quietly, said Duff solemnly.

Sean lowered the shotgun and carried it back to the rack.

h.e.l.lo.

h.e.l.lo, Duff answered, still standing in the doorway.

Sean made a pretence of fitting the gun into the rack with his back to DuffHow are you, laddie? Fine! Fine! How's everybody else? To whom do you refer, in particular? Sean asked. Candy, for one. Sean considered the question. Well, you could have damaged her more by feeding her into a stamp mill! Bad, hey? Bad, agreed Sean.

They stood in silence for a while.

I take it that you are not very well disposed towards me either, Duff said at last.

Sean shrugged his shoulders and moved across to the fireplace.

Dufford, you're a pig, he said conversationally.

Duff winced. Well, it was nice knowing you, laddie. I suppose from here on our paths diverge? Don't drivel, Duff, you're wasting; time. Pour the drinks and then you can tell me what it feels like being a pig. Also I want to discuss with you those paintings Candy has plastered along the upstairs corridor. I don't know whether to give them away or burn them. Duff straightened up from leaning against the door jamb, he tried to stop the relief showing on his face but Sean went on quickly, Before we close the lid on the subject and bury it, I want to tell you this. I don't like what you did. I can see why you did it, but I don't like it.

That's my piece said. Have you got anything to add to it?

No! said Duff. All right then. I think you'll find a bottle of Courvoisier right at the back of the cabinet behind the whisky decanter Sean went down to Candy's Hotel that evening and found Candy in her office. He's back, Candy. Oh! Candy caught her breath. How is he, Sean? A little chastened, but not muchI didn't mean that, I meant is he well? The same as ever. He had the grace to ask how you were, said Sean.

What did you tell him? asked Candy.

Sean shrugged and sat down in the chair next to her desk. He looked at the tall stacks of sovereigns that Candy was counting.

is that last night's bar takings? he asked, avoiding her question.

Yes, she answered absently.