Follett, Ken by Hornet Flight

Author:Hornet Flight [Flight, Hornet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-07-29T09:32:22.253000+00:00

Tilde came to Peter�s apartment that evening. She was wearing a new pink blouse with flowers embroidered on the cuffs. Pink suited her, Peter thought. It brought out her femininity. The weather was warm, and she seemed to have nothing on under the blouse. He showed her into the living room. The evening sun shone in, lighting the room with a weird glow, giving a fuzzy edge to the furniture and the pictures on the walls. Inge sat in a chair by the fireplace, gazing into the room with the expressionless look she always wore. Peter drew Tilde to him and kissed her. She froze for a moment, surprised, then she kissed him back. He stroked her shoulders and her hips. She pulled back and looked in his face. He could see desire in her eyes, but she was troubled. She glanced at Inge. �Is this all right?� she said. He touched her hair. �Hush.� He kissed her again, hungrily. They became more passionate. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her soft breasts. He stroked the warm skin. She pulled away again, breathing hard. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted. �What about her?� she said. �What about Inge?� Peter looked at his wife. She was regarding the two of them with a blank stare, showing no emotion at all, as always. �There�s no one there,� he told Tilde. �No one there at all.� She looked into his eyes. Her face showed compassion and understanding mingled with curiosity and lust. �All right,� she said. �All right.� He bent his head to her naked breasts.

The quiet village of Jansborg was creepy by twilight. The villagers seemed to go to bed early, so the streets were deserted and the houses dark and still. Harald felt as if he were driving through a place where something dreadful had happened, and he was the only person who did not know about it. He parked the motorcycle outside the railway station. It did not look as conspicuous as he had feared, for next to it was a gas-powered Opel Olympia cabriolet, with a wooden structure like a shed over its rear roof to house the giant fuel bag. He left the bike and set off to walk to the school in the gathering darkness. After his escape from the guards on Sande he had got back into his old bed and slept heavily until midday. His mother woke him, fed him a vast lunch of cold pork and potatoes, pushed money into his pocket, and pleaded with him to tell her where he was living. Weakened by her affection and his father�s unexpected mellowing, he had told her he was staying in Kirstenslot. However, he had not mentioned the disused church, for fear she would worry about him sleeping rough, and he had left her with the impression he was a guest at the big house. Then he had set out to drive across Denmark from west to east again. Now, in the evening of the following day, he was approaching his old school.

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