Come Easy, Go Easy (21 page)

She turned her back on me, shrugging.

"All right, so you're not going to Wentworth," she said. "It's not stopping me."

I went over to her and put my arms around her, pulling her against me.

"Don't be angry, sweetheart," I said. "You've got to realise . . ."

She jerked free of me.

"I'm busy. Can't you see? Haven't you anything to do?"

"Okay, if that's the way you feel about it."

She looked over her shoulder at me. Her green eyes were suddenly as hard as stone.

"That is the way I feel about it, and you'd better move in with your boy friend. I want the bungalow to myself."

"Now, look, Lola . . ."

"You heard what I said. You may not realise it but I own this place now. You two are such buddies. Well, go sleep with him!"

The sudden hatred in her eyes chilled me.

"Well, if that's the way you want it ..."

"Oh, get out! I want a man in my bed, not a gutless insect. Go and talk to your boy friend!"

I went out, shutting the door behind me.

That was the end of my intimacy with Lola. Funnily enough, now that Roy was here, I didn't mind. For weeks now this business of going to the bungalow with her after we had locked up each night had given me a squeasy feeling. Every time I went into the big bedroom I thought of Jenson. I forgot about him as soon as I had Lola in my arms, but there was always this moment when I entered the room when I did think of him.

Roy helped me move the single bed into the cabin.

"So you're in the dog house," he said, grinning. "Women! They hold their sex over you like a club. I've had all I want of it. I'm beginning to see why Jenson walked out."

All day Lola had sulked, not speaking to me. Around ten o'clock she had got in the Mercury and had driven off to Wentworth. It was when she had gone that I moved my things out of the bungalow.

"She'll get over it," I said. "Anyway, it'll be a change to have some male company."

While he was servicing a car that had come in, I packed my things in a suitcase. I had put the .45 in the top drawer of the chest which I shared with Lola. When I came to look for it, it had gone.

This really rattled me. Only Lola could have taken it. I searched the drawers in the chest, but I didn't expect to find it and I didn't. I searched the whole room and the other rooms in the bungalow, but I didn't find it.

Why had she taken it?

The rest of the evening was spoilt for me. I kept worrying and thinking about the gun. I remembered that hard look of hatred that had come into her eyes.

I kept asking myself if our association together during the past weeks had been an act on her side.

I stayed up with Roy during his night shift, and we both turned in around one o'clock. I heard her come in around three o'clock. I was in bed by the window and I looked out, seeing her park the Mercury, and in the moonlight I watched her enter the bungalow. I was tempted to get out of bed and go over there and ask her about the gun, but I decided to wait until the morning. I didn't sleep much that night.

She didn't come into the lunch room until after eleven. Roy was peeling potatoes and I was washing the dishes from last night's trade.

She had a sulky expression on her face, but she greeted Roy well enough: me, she ignored.

Roy winked at me and jerked his head at the door. Then switching off the potato peeling machine, he went out, leaving us alone together.

"Where's the gun?" I said.

She stared at me.

"I got rid of it."

"How?"

"I buried it on the road to Wentworth. Does that satisfy you?"

I didn't know if she was lying or not.

"What's the idea then?"

"They could prove the gun shot him, couldn't they? It's safer to get rid of it."

That made sense, but I still wasn't sure if she had really got rid of it.

"And Chet, I've been thinking ..."

"Well, go on. What have you been thinking?''

"Now you have your boy friend with you, you can run this place on your own. I'm leaving."

"Do you think that is a good idea?"

"Of course. I've always want to leave. I've told you that over and over again. Now with Roy here it is possible."

"What will the sheriff think when he finds you gone?"

"You can tell him I've gone to join Carl, and you two are in charge."

"You're forgetting every police station has my description and photograph. Sorry, Lola, that cat won't jump."

Her eyes began to glitter.

"You're going to open that safe, Chet, and you are giving me the money! I'm leaving at the end of the week! Do you understand?"

"It won't work, Lola, for three very solid reasons. First, I have to keep out of sight. If you leave, it will appear that Roy is running this place on his own and the Sheriff could get nosy enough to check up. If he finds me here, I'm sunk. Secondly, Jenson is buried here and if the police ever dig him up, you're going to be here to take the rap. You shot him, and it's your pigeon. Thirdly, I'm not opening the safe and you're not getting the money, for the moment you get it, I'll be in trouble. There'll be nothing to stop you from telling the police I killed Jenson, and that's something I'll take damn good care you don't tell them."

I expected her to fly into a rage, but she didn't. Her face lost some of its colour. Her eyes went dark, but otherwise she kept calm.

"Sure about it, Chet?"

"Yes."

"Just so long as I know. I've waited four years now to get away from this hell hole. I've learned to be patient. I'll get out of it and when I do, you'll be sorry I didn't leave sooner."

"If we are going to warn each other, Lola, let me warn you too. Roy could open that safe, but don't get that idea in your head. If he opened the safe and saw what was in it, he'd take it. I'm telling you. Don't kid yourself he would fall for you. I wouldn't have had him here if I thought for one moment you could make an impression on him. I've known him all my life. Women bounce off him. You've tried to make an impression on him already. It didn't work, did it? The only thing in life that means anything to him is money. He would take the money and ditch you. You would never touch it. Don't kid yourself. If you want to lose that money, ask him to open the safe."

I left her staring at me with narrowed eyes. I joined Roy who was sweeping up around the gas pumps. He grinned at me.

"I thought I'd leave you two together. Have you kissed and made it up?"

"Not yet," I said. I couldn't help staring at him, wondering about him, asking myself if I could trust him not to make a fool of himself over Lola. Looking at his dark, cynical face, I tried to assure myself I could trust him. "She'll get over it."

"Treat them rough, Chet," he said. "No woman is worth a guy worrying himself. I found that out years ago. Relax. Don't look so worried. If she doesn't toe the line, there are plenty who will."

"Yeah, that's right. I have an idea, Roy, she's going to make a play at you to fix me. I just mention it. It's just an idea I have."

He laughed.

"That's funny. Okay, let her try. You know me, pal. She won't cut any ice with me. What's the idea then? Trying to make you jealous?"

I wondered if I should tell him about the safe, but I decided against it. If Roy knew there was all that money in the safe it would unsettle him. He would put pressure on me to try to persuade me to open the safe and that was something I wasn't going to do.

"That's the idea I guess."

He shook his head.

"Women!"

The next three days and nights must have been pretty lonely for Lola. As she continued to sulk with me, she found herself without anyone to talk to.

Roy and I kept together. We shared the night duty and we started a non-stop game of Gin. As soon as the traffic dropped off, we put a table on the veranda and started this game. We betted against each other on paper: no money passed between us, but we kept account.

Roy had a lot of luck, and he was a better player than I was.

It was on the fourth night that he said with a grin, "You're in the hole for five hundred bucks. You should quit before I ruin you."

"You don't have to worry about ruining me," I said, grinning at him. "What you've got to worry about is when you're going to get paid."

"Piker!" He shuffled the cards. "I could do with five hundred bucks. Next week, the races start. There's a horse that's going to walk it. If I could put five hundred bucks on that gee, I'd clear five thousand." He whistled. "That's the kind of money I'd like to put my hands on."

I thought of the hundred thousand in the safe.

"You wouldn't know what to do with it if you had it," I said. "Come on: concentrate, or you'll be owing me money soon."

He sat back in his chair.

"I'd know what to do with it," he said. "With five thousand bucks I could buy myself a partnership in a wire service. I know a guy who wants a little extra capital. With three times that money I could buy him out, then Boy! would I be in the dough!"

"You're nuts. Who ever heard of anyone making money out of a wire service?"

"I'm serious, Chet. If I could get some capital together, I would really be in the money. Okay, five thousand wouldn't get me far, but fifty thousand would."

I shifted uneasily in my chair.

"Forget it! How could you ever scrape up fifty thousand?"

"We could do it in six months, Chet." He leaned forward to stare at me. "I've got it all worked out. Now look, at the back of here there's a couple of acres of good, solid sand. You could land a hoverplane there. I know a guy in Mexico who would pay a hundred dollars a head to land Mexican wetbacks here. We could ferry them into Wentworth and Tropica Springs and lose them there. This is the idea place for a racket like that."

"I told you I was through with rackets, and I mean it. If you're not happy here, Roy, say so. I want you here, but if you want to start that kind of thing, you'll have to start it some place else."

Roy began to deal the cards.

"Well, okay," he said, but this time he didn't look at me. "I think you're passing up a good thing, but this is your show and not mine. I've got to get me some money before long. I've got to get some big money. I'd hate to break this up, but I'll have to in a while. I'll stick around for a bit, but I can't afford to stay here indefinitely. I've got to dream up a way to get some money."

"Don't be a fool, Roy," I said sharply. "You are heading for trouble the way you're thinking. Here, you are on your own, you are your own boss and can live damn well. This money itch is no good. If you had been to Farnworth ..."

"I know, but it so happens, Chet, I haven't been to Farnworth, and you wouldn't have been there if you had done what I had told you to instead of rushing down to the street."

"Oh, forget it!" I said. "Let's play if we're going to play."

We played a couple of hands and I won them both. Roy wasn't concentrating. I knew he was still thinking about this pipe dream of his. Suddenly he dropped his cards on the table.

"Let's chuck it," he said. "I'm tired. I guess I'll hit the sack."

It was my turn for night duty. This was the first time in five days that Roy wasn't sharing it with me.

"Sure, go ahead," I said.

He got up and stretched elaborately, yawning.

"See you in the morning. So long."

I watched him walk over to the cabin. I watched the light go up in the window. Across the way, Lola's light was still on,

I looked from one light to the other.

I had an idea that Roy was suddenly hostile to me.

That made two of them.

But I needn't have worried.

The next morning, Roy was his old self again. I realised he had been disappointed that I had turned down his Mexican emigrant idea, but having slept on it, he seemed to have put it out of his mind.

We played Gin in the evening and we kidded each other about his winnings, and we talked about this and that, but we didn't talk about hoverplanes nor about quick, easy money.

I was relieved, not only because he was back in form, but also because Lola was slowly thawing out. She had spoken to me once or twice during the day: strictly business, but at least she was speaking.

Around ten o'clock that evening, she came out on the veranda and watch us playing Gin.

"Why not join us?" I said. "I'll get another chair."

"Cards are a waste of time," she said. "I'm going to bed. I have to be up early. I have a lot of stuff to get from Wentworth tomorrow. Which of you is coming to give me a hand?"

Up to now, she had always managed on her own when marketing in Wentworth. Her request startled me. While I was hesitating, Roy said, "If you don't want to go, Chet, I'd be glad to. I haven't been off the place since I've been here. There are things I want to buy. Okay?"

I felt a sudden stab of suspicion. I looked at him. He was lighting a cigarette and his face, lit by the flame of the lighter, was casual.

"Why, sure," I said. "You'll be back by lunch time. I can manage until then."

"I'll be leaving at eight," Lola said. "Good night," and she walked away towards the bungalow.

"I've got to get me some shirts and a pair of shoes," Roy said as he picked up his cards.

My suspicions died down. It was true he hadn't left Point of No Return since he had been here. It was reasonable that he should want some new clothes, but I wished he wasn't going with Lola. That bothered me. I was sure she would get to work on him. A twenty mile drive into Wentworth and back was too long for them to be alone together.

"Relax, pea brain," Roy said and reaching out, he slapped me on the knee. "I know what you're thinking—let her try. She'll cut no ice with me."