One is a Lonely Number by Bruce Elliott

Author:Bruce Elliott [Elliott, Bruce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4405-4115-5
Publisher: Prologue Books
Published: 1952-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

SHE DID NOT intrude herself as they drove through the darkness. Occasionally she’d tell him where to go, which fork of a road to take, but aside from that she was as busy with her secret thoughts as he. Her silence and the mechanics of driving were enough to lull his nerves back to normal.

He said, “I think we’ve gone far enough. There’s no sign of anyone tailing us.”

“There’s a motel about five more miles along the road.”

“Okay.”

Crisp neon lines spelled out “Michohio” above some neat-looking cabins. He pulled into the place, pressed a button that had a little sign above it reading, “Night Bell.” The elderly man who opened the door, his unbuttoned pants held together with one hand, a registry book in the other, could not have been more incurious. Scrawling something that could have been Mr. and Mrs. Smathers, Camonille took the key the man offered him. The couple followed the old man to an open-doored cabin.

The interior was as neat as a pin. A single large bed, cottage curtains, a matching coverlet on the bed, an end table, a lamp, all the furnishings were as new and carefully selected as a window display in a department store.

The old man showed them the toilet facilities, sleepily said good night and left them.

Camonille washed up and watched Jan in the mirror before him. She was bouncing up and down on the bed like an eight-year-old, delighted with herself for some reason which he could not determine.

She stopped bouncing and patted the bed next to her as he walked towards her. She said, “Just like newlyweds, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t planning on a honeymoon.” He answered dryly, but he lay down on the soft-mattressed bed near her.

Kissing him gently on the forehead, at his hairline, she unbuttoned her blouse and said, “Don’t go away, I’ll be right back.”

Some of the tension drained away. For the moment he was willing to live poised on the pin point of the moment and not consider what the future held. Coming out of the bathroom she let her skirt drop to the floor and walked out of it. Clad only in her stockings and her brief little pants, she walked towards him, her knees stiff like a model or a stripper. Her strut forced her shoulders to shift sharply from one side to the other, making her breasts bounce a little. She was trying to arouse him and he found it annoying.

She saw his face set in annoyance and said, “You’re not mad at me are you?” She bent down over him, her upper body filling his field of vision. He shut his eyes and said sharply, “Cut it out. This is no time for games.”

She lay down on the bed next to him, quietly, chastened, keeping her body away from his so no physical contact would irritate him again.

He turned off the light. In the darkness the red of the flashing neon sign outside the motel made itself visible. They were behind the sign and the name of the place was reversed.

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