Read Online War Baby by Colin Falconer - Free Book Online Page B

this.’
    ‘Do you really want to shut yourself away for the rest of your life knowing there was a bloke who was crazy about you, who would have married you and given you children? I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I won’t let you walk away from me. I won’t lose you, I won’t.’
    He noticed the fluttery rise and fall of her breasts beneath the ao dai . I mean what I say, Ryan assured himself. Right now, I mean it.
    He reached up with his good arm and stroked her hair. ‘You’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,’ he said, and his voice dreamy.
    She slid away from him, along the bench. ‘ C’est impossible! I must have time to think.’
    She stood up abruptly and walked away, slim and straight, leaving ghosts of patchouli and incense. The most exotic creature he had ever seen.
    God forgive me.
     
    * * *
     
    Odile walked blindly, fighting an instinct to run. She had come here today to end this, before it could begin, to return to the safety of a life ordered by duty, by virtue. She had been imprisoned by the circumstances of her life and now the jailer had left the door ajar for a moment, unguarded, and for a moment she could see out. Impossible not to approach that door, curious to see beyond.
    If only her faith were a stronger, faith in God, or faith in herself.

Chapter 8
     
    ‘What are you thinking about?’ Mickey asked him.
    ‘Nothing,’ Webb said, forcing Private Judge from his mind.
    ‘We have an agreement, remember?’
    He did remember. He would not talk about his work, and she would not talk about hers. But it was an easy bargain to keep. Mickey finished her beer and Webb signaled the waiter for two more. They were in the Royale, a seedy, once glorious old hotel in a side street between the Tu Do and the Nguyen Hue, the Street of Flowers. Outside, the street boiled in the noonday sun.
    ‘My Mister Nice Guy,’ she said.
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘Last time you were up at Bien Hoa I was rolling drunk. You could have done what you wanted.’
    ‘How do you know I didn’t?’
    ‘No cold, sticky mess in the middle of the night. It’s where women first learn their job in life is to clean up after men.’
    ‘You were upset. It didn’t seem right.’
    ‘Please, don’t say stuff like that. Before I know it, I’ll end up liking you.’
    ‘I went to an English grammar school. We were taught chivalry and good manners.’
    ‘I saw a movie about an English grammar school. Didn’t you play cricket and rape little boys?’
    ‘No, that’s the public schools. They’re called public schools because they’re private. I went to a grammar school. You only get to rape the new kids on special occasions. Christmas, Easter.’
    ‘It sounds quaint.’
    ‘I suppose it was. I didn’t like cricket though. The sodomy was the best part.’
    She laughed. ‘I never met an Englishman before. I watched a lot of movies back home with Englishmen in them and I always loved the accent. Where you grew up, did it have thatched cottages and a haunted church and a duke and everything?’
    ‘Of course. I went fox hunting every week in the summer.’
    Their lunch arrived. A sallow-faced Vietnamese in a white jacket brought a tray with two plates under silver covers. He removed the covers with a flourish; two small water buffalo steaks and two spherical mounds of mashed potato.
    ‘Jesus I need a hamburger,’ she said. ‘Eighty-three days and a wake-up to go. What about you? How long do you intend to stick this out?’
    ‘I don’t know, Mickey. No time frame for me.’
    ‘Wouldn’t you rather be taking photographs of skinny models in bikinis or sunsets on a Pacific island?’
    He jabbed at the mashed potato with his fork. It was rare. The steak was overcooked. At least the beer was cold. ‘I was eighteen years old when I realized I really didn’t have any talent,’ he said.
    She stopped eating and stared at him. ‘What?’
    ‘It’s why I’m here. Back home I’m just another