The Longest Time Without You (Gold Streaks Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter 6

The floor of the warehouse is pale cement; dusted lightly with straw and lit to pale gold in the patches of light from the high windows.

Lisa looks down at it; thinking absently about the patterns of light and shade, of straw and cement and dust; concretely about the case and the people involved, fitting the pieces together into some sort of coherent picture.

She is resting on a ledge about a third of the way up the wall. Climbing the wall in this place has proved easier, and has given her something to do, if nothing else.

Lisa watches absently the floor across the room from her post on the front wall above the door; the dust rising in the shafts of light from the windows before her gaze. Her mind considering all the possibilities. The ledge is a useful place to rest, and the climb made her feel revitalised, she notes.

“...and we're on watch tonight?”

“Yeah.”

There are some strange places, near high walls and grouped buildings, where the sound is focused; so that spoken words from somewhere rather far are all reflected to those places, amplified. Sitting at a place like that,  it is as if you heard words from right next door to the speaker, even though they are far away. Just where Lisa sits, two-thirds of the way to the windows, is such a place; it seems. The words spoken a few feet outside the door seem to collect here, so it is as if Lisa stood beside the guards. She tenses, listening to their talking.

“But...they'll be here at eight-thirty?”

“Yeah. There in the old works-hall at the bottom of the hill. Like usual.”

“They'll want us keeping an eye out there, then?”

“One of us can go. Only need one up here; to keep an eye on the door. Not much to do up here.”

“Yeah.”

Lisa's mind is whirling with the new information. Someone is coming here tonight, to have a meeting in the disused refinery. Who?

“So when the boss is done, you'll come back here?”

“Yeah. Shouldn't take more than about an hour, I reckon. Neither of our bosses are big on talking. Can't imagine they talk much to each other.” The South African accented man supplies, a laugh in his voice.

“Yeah. True”. The other man, the Indian-accented one, agrees.

Both our bosses. Patel, and someone from Brinkman Car assembly? Lisa thinks, fitting the new pieces into the puzzle she is starting to build in her mind.

“He'll come himself, though?” the South African man is asking.

“Always does. Never trust a second man. That's what he always says.”

“He trusts you, though, Sachin?”

“Not with the big things.” They chuckle.

“I don't think my boss trusts me with big things, either.” The other man reflects.

They laugh again.

“Well;no good standing talking, I guess.” The Indian man reflects.

“No, I guess not.”

“I've got to go and move some rubble out of the way down there; make some space to park where someone can't drive into anything in the dark.”

The men chuckle. Comments about fancy cars and rubble and their bosses ensue.

The men talk a little more, then one departs down the hill.

Lisa breathes out. Her mind is whirling with the new facts. Raju Patel and a man from the car company are meeting somewhere here. To discuss...what? If only she was there. If only she could get out of here and be there at that meeting. She would have all the evidence she needs to make clear what these men have done. If only she was out of here. She has all the information she needs, now, to accuse them both and save the case. This new information is a miracle of itself. If only she could be free of here, to use it. Any other thoughts of freedom, and Sue, she pushes down. Her mind is in the court now, making the case against Patel, and Brinkman cars.

From her vantage point a third of the way up the wall, she idly notes the sound of an engine; running hard and fast across the road along the ridge. She pauses, thinking. Listens.

Chapter 7

“Come on, come on!”

Sue is driving the BMW X5 up the hill, shouting encouragement to the engine. It protests, and pulls forward again, the small, streamlined body of the car shooting uphill on the rough track. The BMW is not made for offroad, but she pushes it on, shouting encouragement and deprecation in turn.

“Damn it! Go on.”

Sue lowers her foot and charges up the track. She is sure Lisa must be somewhere here. The man who saw the car that had Lisa said he thought they were heading this way. And it seems the best place to hide a person. The hills here are deserted. No-one travels out here; or if they do, it is to go to the new industrial area to the east of here. No-one comes to see the old, disused refinery buildings dotted along the hill out along the ridges. The forlorn, white-painted buildings, crumbling now, stand stark and pale against green grass; the chimneys of the main building stark, pale fingers reaching up, truncated, against the aching blue background of sky.

An old, wind-torn place. Forlorn and desolate. But now, the very rocks seem to sing with urgency and hope and Lisa's name.

“Come on. Go for it!'

Sue is shouting at the engine again. It coughs, splutters, threatens to cut out.

“Oh, for goodness' sake!”

Sue swerves, tightly, bringing the car around and sideways to stop at the base of the hill.

“I'll wait here, then; until it's cooled a little.” She says to herself, and turns the keys in the ignition.

She leans a little through the window, breathing the fresh, dry air. It smells faintly of dust, heat and the petrol and burning from the engine. Sue breathes deeply, her heart racing. The air fills her lungs, calming her mind. She sighs. The wind from the valley ruffles her hair and she lets herself breathe and still, regaining her equilibrium. It is not like her to be less than centered and composed; at peace.

She stops. Looks up the ridge. Looks with narrowed eyes. Looks again.

There are men on the ridge opposite; small dark forms against the greyed green of the grass. She saw them because one is climbing back up the ridge towards the building near the summit.; one of the disused refinery buildings; a warehouse.

“What are you doing there?” She murmurs it under her breath. Her heart is tight with tension and excitement, her body stiff with resolution and the slight tremor of joy.

Her hands on the steering wheel are gripped, and damp.

She turns the key in the ignition, a plan forming in her mind.

Suddenly, she is off.

The engine is quiet again, and for the first part, Sue drives fairly slowly; taking the small track up the back of the ridge, where the men are sheltered around the building.

Then, at the top of the hill, as she comes round from behind the building, just coming into sight of the men, she changes gear; puts her foot flat on the gas, pressing the pedal to the floor.

The engine roars and the men leap aside, one of them screaming in alarm. They lie flat on grass across the narrow hilltop; just off the track that comes past the building's front door.

Sue grits her teeth as she slams the brake on, the car skidding and spinning in the rough gravel of the path; spraying dust and pebbles everywhere. She has time to reflect on the damage to the body of the car, and then no time to think further, as she leans on the steering and wrenches the car to the side, then reverses, turning the car to be perpendicular to the track, almost in line with the door.

The men are shouting incoherently; gesturing and waving to her to stop.

Sue leans into steering again, to take the car sharply left, pointing it towards the doors. She closes her eyes.

The car roars and leaps forward, going full tilt.

The impact with the door is shattering; but the car does not stop. Sue feels the door buckle as the BMW rocks into it. Her arms shudder with the impact where she grips the wheel.

The car's airbags inflate, and Sue is temporarily blinded as she rocks forwards. She presses down with the brake, the movement the only conscious focus of her mind, taking all her concentration, and hears the scream of the tyres on concrete as the car loses the last of its momentum and skids to a halt.

The airbags deflate. Sue blinks, her head pounding. Changes gear and reverses. The shock of the impact and the tension of what she is doing are making her feel weak. With the last of her strength, she guides the car slowly back through the door. She waits a second, her arms on the steering wheel, her hands trembling uncontrollably; breath drawn in slowly to heaving lungs.

She looks up.

Out of the dust and smoke and clouds of drifting sand around the door, a woman's figure has emerged; darting through the smoke.

“Lisa!” She breathes it in wonder.

Lisa is crossing the carnage at the door, when one of the guards is running into the building. The other is running at Sue's car; desperate to reach it.

Lisa looks ahead, sees the men; runs straight forward; straight into the oncoming guard. He is moving more slowly, and is knocked off balance. He falls over.

Lisa runs to the car, her hand at the doorhandle.

“Sue!”

Sue leans across, unlocks the door. Lisa slides in and shuts it behind her. Sue turns the keys in the ignition and starts up, even as the other guard reaches them.

Sue turns the car.

“Lisa!” She is staring at her, relief and awe and pure love on her face.

“Sue!” Lisa looks at Sue, her smile a picture of elation, joy and love.

Lisa's hand reaches across to Sue's. Sue grabs it and they hold hands tightly, fiercely; a grip that could outlast time.

The BMW limps slowly onto the main road; the men far behind on the hill, one of them calling someone both gesturing frantically and futilely after the, now-distant, car.

The engine is wheezing a little as they ease around the corner and onto the tar again, the scent of oil and burnt rubber and sheared metal a haze around them as Lisa and Sue stare at each other, tears of joy, elation and love running down both their cheeks.

Chapter 8

“...but how did you know how to find me?” Lisa is asking.

She and Sue are sitting at the table in Sue's kitchen, a plate of steaming stew on the table in front of her. The kitchen is darker now, the shadows of evening lengthening and the windows shaded over. The smooth dark gloss of the kitchen table catches the last of the light and the flames of the candles Sue has lit and spins them out brighter, making the room warmly-lit and close.

Lisa has had a bath, and her hair is wetly dark; its curls spiralling as it dries. Sue is just across from her, wrapped in her white silk nightgown, after showering to clean away the grime and smoke and dust.

“..I don't know.” Sue is shaking her head, amazed. “I guess something just...told me you were there.”

Lisa tilts her head, grinning. They are both looking at each other, their gaze unable to leave; each detail of each other's faces a fresh miracle in a day of miraculous happenings.

“I...I can't believe it. Sue! I never would have imagined anything like this. That you, of all people, would do something like that...” She shakes her head in utter amazement.

“Me neither.” Sue is grinning, her pure elation shining out of her; completely unrepressed.

“...But then, I wouldn't have imagined you knocking someone out, either!”

Lisa smiles back. Takes Sue's hand and grips it. Sue grins; squeezes her hand back. They cannot stop smiling; stop looking at each other.

“It seems...impossible.” Lisa begins.

“It is. It isn't.” Sue is laughing, relief and love making tears spill as she does.

Lisa leans forward to embrace her. Their foreheads touch, damp with sweat and tears and water from fresh-washed hair.

They kiss; warm and sweet and long.

Both of them sit back after a minute, breathing heavily.

“Sue...”

“Lisa...”
They kiss again, slower now; warm with savored closeness.

“I love you, Sue.” Lisa says it first; her voice torn with sincerity.

“I love you, too.” Sue agrees, choked with emotion.

They embrace; bodies warm and close and solid in each other's arms.

After a long while, Lisa's hands caress Sue's shoulders. Sue feels her fingers brush along Lisa's spine, the twin ridge of muscle and the chain of bone between.

Lisa kisses her hair; her temple; her throat.

“Lisa?”

They look into each other's eyes; pale, iced blue meeting warm red-brown. They are both smiling.

They kiss again, and Sue slides slowly to her feet, lifting Lisa with her.

When they are standing, she tilts her head in the direction of the stairs, an enquiry in the tilt of it.

Lisa smiles; a slow, warm, beautiful thing. Sue feels her body warm to it, and returns it in equal measure. Lisa breathes in, Sue's icy beauty leaving her as breathless as it ever does.

“Yes.”

They climb the stairs.

In the bedroom, Sue has closed the blinds. The soft light is at its lowest setting; a pale gold glow that reflects softly off the cream-white cotton of the coverlet, the carpet, the paler white of the wall.

Sue sits on the bed. Lisa crosses the room to join her; her eyes taking in the soft, pale beauty of Sue sitting on the bed in the half-light of the room.

Sue's nightgown has slipped off her shoulder; the pale whiteness of it glowing like satin, as the gown slips lower, exposing the rising curve of her breast. The skin is lucent, pale-veined; precious. Lisa sinks down onto the bed beside her; kisses her shoulder, her ear, her throat. Moves lower.

Sue gasps and leans back. Her fingers run across Lisa's back – teasing, searching, exciting – as Lisa leans down, slowly, to take Sue's breast in her mouth. The skin is soft, pale; warm. Lisa gasps and the sound of her strained breathing matches Sue's as she runs her fingers down Sue's back and leans in to kiss her breasts.

They are lying on the bed now, Sue's nightgown undone. Lisa's body slides over hers, and Sue's fingers stroke down her chest; pushing aside the blood-dark satin so that, when they lie down, skin presses on skin.

Sue's fingers caress Lisa's back as she kisses her throat, and Lisa leans in to kiss her mouth. Their hair has tumbled loose now, clouds of pale red and pale blonde mingling together as their lips caress each other's. Their bodies sliding together as one

Lisa's thigh moves between Sue's, and she gasps.

Sue's hands caress Lisa's sides, her throat; her back, as Lisa's fingers lightly brush her thighs.

Sue gasps. Lisa's fingers slowly part her soaking folds and Lisa gasps too as she enters her.

Then all is lost in the white-out of pleasure as skin slides over skin and lips meet and part and breasts and hips and thighs and the slide of curves and the pounding, searing, flowing, growing rhythm rises within them and spins them both to a place of pleasure beyond consciousness.

It takes an age before either of them become aware again of the room around them; the cool night, the silence, the warm scented closeness of the room.

“Sue?”

“Mmm?”

Lisa rolls over; kisses Sue's temple. Goes drifting back to sleep.

Sue kisses her forehead, moves closer to her. They lie still for a while.

“I love you.” Lisa murmurs it.

“Love you, too.”