THE KEY TO REBECCA BY KEN FOLLETT

Vandarn said to Elene: “Have you eaten?” “NO.” “What have we got, Gaafar?” “For you, sir, clear soup, scrambled eggs and yoghurt. But I took the liberty of grilling a chop for Miss Fontana.” Elene said to Vandam: “Do you always eat like that?” “No, it’s because of my cheek, I can’t chew.” He stood up. As they went into the dining room Elene said: “Does it still hurt?” “Only when I laugh. It’s true-I can’t stretch the muscles on that side. I’ve got into the habit of smiling with one side of my face.” They sat down, and Gaafar served the soup. Elene said: “I like your son very much.” .,so do L” Vandarn said. “He’s old beyond his years.” “Do you think that’s a bad thing?” She shrugged. “Who knows?” “He’s been through a couple of things that ought to be reserved for adults.” “Yes.” Elene hesitated. “When did your wife die?” “May the twenty-eighth, nineteen-forty-one, in the evening.” “Billy told me it happened in Crete.” “Yes. She worked on cryptanalysis for the Air Force. She Was on a temporary posting to Crete at the time the Germans invaded the island. May twenty-eighth was the day the British realized they had lost the battle and decided to get out. Apparently she was hit by a stray shell and killed instantly. Of course, we were trying to get live people away then, not bodies, so . . . There’s no grave, you see. No memorial. Nothing left.” Elene said quietly: “Do you still love her?” “I think I’ll always be in love with her. I believe it’s like that with people you really love. If they go away, or die, it makes no difference. If ever I were to marry again, I would still love Angela.” “Were you very happy?” “We . . .” He hesitated, unwilling to answer, then he realized that the hesitation was an answer in itself. “Ours wasn’t THE KEY TO REBECCA 217

an idyllic marriage. It was I who was devoted … Angela was fond of me.” “Do you think you will marry again?” “Well. The English in Cairo keep thrusting replicas of Angela at me.” He shrugged. He did not know the answer to the question. Elene seemed to understand, for she fell silent and began to cat her dessert. Afterward Gaafar brought them coffee in the drawing room. It was at this time of day that Vandam usually began to hit the bottle seriously, but tonight he did not want to drink. He sent Gaafar to bed, and they drank their coffee. Vandam. smoked a cigarette. He felt the desire for music. He had loved music, at one time, altbougl; lately it bad gone out of his life. Now, with the mild night air coming in through the open windows and the smoke curling up from his cigarette, he wanted to hear clear, delightful notes, and sweet harmonies, and subtle rhythms. He went to the piano and looked at the music. Elene watched him in silence. He began to play “Fiir Elise.” The first few notes sounded, with Beethoven’s characteristic, devastating simplicity; then the hesitation; then the rolling tune. The ability to play came back to him instantly, almost as if he had never stopped. His hands knew what to do in a way he always felt was miraculous. When the song was over he went back to Elene, sat next to her, and kissed her cheek. Her face was wet with tears. She said: “William, I love you with all my heart.”

They whisper. She says, “I like your ears.” He says, “Nobody has ever licked them before.” She giggles. “Do you like it?” “Yes, yes.” He sighs. “Can 1. . . ?” “Undo the buttons-here-that’s right-aah.” “I’ll put out the light.” “No, I want to see you-” “There’s a moon.” Click. “There, see? The moonlight is enough.” “Come back here quickly-” “I’m here.” “Kiss me again, William.” 218 Ken Follett

They do not speak for a while. Then: “Can I take this thing off?” he says. “Let me help . . . there.” “Oh I Oh, they’re so pretty.” “I’m so glad you like them. . . would you do that harder . suck a little … aah, God-” And a little later she says: “Let me feel your chest. Damn buttons-rve ripped your shirt-” “The hell with that.” “Ah, I knew it would be like this … Look.” 41″at?” “Our skins in the moonlight-you’re so pale and I’m nearly black, look-” “Yes.,, “Touch me. Stroke me. Squeeze, and pinch, and explore, I want to feel your hands all over me-” “Yes–” ,,-everywhere, your hands, there, yes, especially there, oh, you know, you know exactly where, oh!” “You’re so soft inside.” “This is a dream.” “No, it’s real.” “I never want to wake up.” “So soft. . .” “And you’re so hard . . . Can I kiss it?” “Yes, please … Ah … Jesus it feels good-Jesus’~’ “William?” “Yes?” “Now, William?” “Oh, yes.,, “. . – Take them off.” Silk.” “Yes. Be quick.” “Yes.,’ “I’ve wanted this for so long-” She gasps, and he makes a sound like a sob, and then there is only their breathing for many minutes, until finally he begins to shout aloud, and she smothers his cries with her kisses and then she, too, feels it, and she turns her face into the cushion and opens her mouth and screams into the cushion, THE KEY TO REBECCA 219

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