Read Online The Dark Side of the Island by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online Page B

have a chat when I get back."
     
     
"You're going Into town?" Lomax said.
     
     
Van Horn nodded. "I shouldn't be long. The Germans took my car away long ago, of course, but I managed to get a couple of bicycles out of them for emergency calls."
     
     
"Is there anyone else here?"
     
     
"Only Maria. She's dumb, by the way, but she can understand everything you tell her." He turned to Katina. "We'd better get moving, my dear."
     
     
She was very pale and fatigue showed clearly on her face, but she looked up at Lomax and managed a wan smile. "I'll probably see you in the morning."
     
     
"Only when you've had at least twelve hours sleep," he told her.
     
     
"Don't worry, I'll see that she does." Van Horn slipped an arm about her shoulders and they left the room.
     
     
Later, after Maria had taken them upstairs and left them in the comfortable room with the twin beds at the end of the corridor, Lomax stood at the window looking out to sea and tiredness flooded through him.
     
     
Boyd had stripped to the waist and was washing his head and shoulders in cold water and Lomax followed suit. Afterwards, he felt better and they went downstairs and followed the aroma of coffee until they reached the ùkitchen where the old woman had prepared a meal of fried fish and eggs for them.
     
     
Later, they took their coffee and went back into the living room and sprawled in front of the fire smoking cigarettes.
     
     
"I think I can stand about as much of this as they've got to offer," Boyd said. "Another cigarette and it's me for bed. What about you?"
     
     
"I'll wait for Van Horn to show up," Lomax told him. "He'll probably have a message from Alexias about tomorrow."
     
     
Boyd got to his feet and moved across to the bookshelves that lined one side of the room. He examined one or two and chuckled. "All by the great man himself, bound in green leather and autographed in gold."
     
     
"Bring one over for me," Lomax said.
     
     
Boyd brought half a dozen and dropped them to the floor beside the chair. He was holding a slim pocket-book size volume in the same edition and there was an expression of real interest on his face.
     
     
"This one's called The Survivor. Seems to be mostly poems about the war."
     
     
Lomax nodded. "He was in the trenches during the last lot."
     
     
"I think I'll take it to bed with me," Boyd said. "Find if he knows what he's talking about, I'll see you later."
     
     
When he had gone, Lomax picked up a novel at random and leafed through it. It was one he had read before, but as always he was gripped by the narrative skill. It must have been an hour later when the curtains were pulled aside and Van Horn stepped through the french window.
     
     
He was carrying an old Gladstone bag, the leather scuffed and fraying, and he dropped it carelessly on the divan.
     
     
"Ah, there you are. What happened to your sergeant?"
     
     
"Gone to bed with a volume of your war poems. I hope you don't mind?"
     
     
"Not as long as I get it back. You know, Lomax, for some strange reason, most people seem to think writers ought to distribute their books free." He sighed. "My God, but it's a pull up that hill out of town. I'm not as young as I was."
     
     
His eyes were tired, the face lined with fatigue. He crossed to a cupboard in the corner, opened it and took down a bottle and two glasses. "The last of the gin."
     
     
"Don't waste it on me," Lomax said. "I'm only passing through to the main bar at Shepheard's, so to speak."
     
     
Van Horn grinned and slumped down into the opposite chair. "Nonsense, this is something of an occasion. Not often I get a little civilised company."
     
     
"Doesn't Colonel Steiner count?" Lomax asked.
     
     
Van Horn raised his eyebrows. "Good heavens no! That's strictly business. I let him beat me at chess once a week and then he feels morally bound to give me all the medical supplies I ask for."
     
     
"We saw him getting into his car as we arrived," Lomax said. "He