Read Online Midnight Never Comes - PC 04 (v5) by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Higgins
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her, the strong sunlight outlining her firm young thighs perfectly through the thin cotton of the simple dress she wore. And those eyes. They seemed to look through and beyond him and his throat went dry. It was as if he had been waiting for this girl all his life.
5
Night on a bare mountain
It was very peaceful in the small station by the lochside and Chavasse peered out of the window of the rear compartment keeping out of sight. On the other side of the glen, the mountain reared its bald head more than three thousand feet into a clear blue sky, sunlight glinting on a waterfall high on the slope that spilled in a white apron across granite to disappear into the birch trees that fringed the base.
A door opened in the front coach and Asta Svensson stepped down on to the platform. She wore a soft leather jacket, a pleated tweed skirt, nylon stockings and handmade leather brogues.
With the pale blonde hair glinting in the sunlight, she made an attractive, vibrant figure in the quiet setting of the little railway station. She moved across to the ticket collector who stood at the barrier beside the small waiting room. There was some conversation, a burst of laughter and she went out through the barrier.
Chavasse waited, wondering what she was up to. Following her from Glasgow to Fort William had been easy, for the train had been quite busy, but the branch line to Arisaig and Mallaig was little used now that the holiday season was over and he'd had difficulty keeping out of sight.
The ticket collector moved to join the guard as he emerged from the waiting room. 'You've lost a passenger, Tam,' he said in a soft highland blas.
'Is that a fact now?' the guard observed calmly.
'Aye, a bonny lass with hair of corn and a face to thank God for. A Miss Svennson. Her step-father's yon fella Donner that bought Glenmore last year. She's away over the mountain. You're to put down her baggage at Lochailort.'
'I hope it keeps fine for her.' The guard took out his watch. 'The long short cut she'll find it if the weather breaks.'
Chavasse reached for his raincoat, opened the door and got out. 'Did I hear you say there was a short cut over the mountain?'
'Well now, sir, and that would depend on where you want to be.'
'Ardmurchan Lodge.'
The guard nodded. 'Over the top of Ben Breac and a twelve mile walk on the other side. You'll be staying with Colonel Craig, the new tenant?'
'My uncle. He'll be waiting for me at Lochailort. Perhaps you'd be good enough to tell him where I am?'
The five shillings he slipped into the guard's hand was pocketed without inspection. 'Leave it to me, sir.'
He blew his whistle and boarded the train. As it moved away from the platform, Chavasse turned to the ticket collector. 'And where do I go from here?'
'Through the village and over the bridge, sir. You'll find a path through the birches on your left. It's hard going, but you can't miss the cairns that mark the way. Once over the top, the track is plain to the glen below.'
'Do you think the weather will hold?'
The ticket collector squinted up at the mountain. 'A touch of mist perhaps and rain in the evening. I shouldn't waste time on top.' He smiled suddenly. 'I'd tell the young lady that if I were you, sir. It's no place for a lassie to be on her own.'
Chavasse grinned. 'I'll do that. A pity to see her get wet.'
'A thousand pities, sir.'
At a small general store he purchased an extra packet of cigarettes and two half-pound bars of milk chocolate. Twelve miles on the other side of the mountain, the ticket collector had said and that wasn't counting the miles that stood up on end. A long walk and something told him he might be hungry before the end of it.
He marched down the quiet village street, his raincoat slung over one shoulder and crossed the bridge over a clear flowing stream. It was still and quiet in the hot afternoon sun and the road stretched before him, lifting upwards and away from the waters of the loch shining through the trees
5
Night on a bare mountain
It was very peaceful in the small station by the lochside and Chavasse peered out of the window of the rear compartment keeping out of sight. On the other side of the glen, the mountain reared its bald head more than three thousand feet into a clear blue sky, sunlight glinting on a waterfall high on the slope that spilled in a white apron across granite to disappear into the birch trees that fringed the base.
A door opened in the front coach and Asta Svensson stepped down on to the platform. She wore a soft leather jacket, a pleated tweed skirt, nylon stockings and handmade leather brogues.
With the pale blonde hair glinting in the sunlight, she made an attractive, vibrant figure in the quiet setting of the little railway station. She moved across to the ticket collector who stood at the barrier beside the small waiting room. There was some conversation, a burst of laughter and she went out through the barrier.
Chavasse waited, wondering what she was up to. Following her from Glasgow to Fort William had been easy, for the train had been quite busy, but the branch line to Arisaig and Mallaig was little used now that the holiday season was over and he'd had difficulty keeping out of sight.
The ticket collector moved to join the guard as he emerged from the waiting room. 'You've lost a passenger, Tam,' he said in a soft highland blas.
'Is that a fact now?' the guard observed calmly.
'Aye, a bonny lass with hair of corn and a face to thank God for. A Miss Svennson. Her step-father's yon fella Donner that bought Glenmore last year. She's away over the mountain. You're to put down her baggage at Lochailort.'
'I hope it keeps fine for her.' The guard took out his watch. 'The long short cut she'll find it if the weather breaks.'
Chavasse reached for his raincoat, opened the door and got out. 'Did I hear you say there was a short cut over the mountain?'
'Well now, sir, and that would depend on where you want to be.'
'Ardmurchan Lodge.'
The guard nodded. 'Over the top of Ben Breac and a twelve mile walk on the other side. You'll be staying with Colonel Craig, the new tenant?'
'My uncle. He'll be waiting for me at Lochailort. Perhaps you'd be good enough to tell him where I am?'
The five shillings he slipped into the guard's hand was pocketed without inspection. 'Leave it to me, sir.'
He blew his whistle and boarded the train. As it moved away from the platform, Chavasse turned to the ticket collector. 'And where do I go from here?'
'Through the village and over the bridge, sir. You'll find a path through the birches on your left. It's hard going, but you can't miss the cairns that mark the way. Once over the top, the track is plain to the glen below.'
'Do you think the weather will hold?'
The ticket collector squinted up at the mountain. 'A touch of mist perhaps and rain in the evening. I shouldn't waste time on top.' He smiled suddenly. 'I'd tell the young lady that if I were you, sir. It's no place for a lassie to be on her own.'
Chavasse grinned. 'I'll do that. A pity to see her get wet.'
'A thousand pities, sir.'
At a small general store he purchased an extra packet of cigarettes and two half-pound bars of milk chocolate. Twelve miles on the other side of the mountain, the ticket collector had said and that wasn't counting the miles that stood up on end. A long walk and something told him he might be hungry before the end of it.
He marched down the quiet village street, his raincoat slung over one shoulder and crossed the bridge over a clear flowing stream. It was still and quiet in the hot afternoon sun and the road stretched before him, lifting upwards and away from the waters of the loch shining through the trees
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