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ing at each other。 At eleven o'clock she made two cups of coffee； and they drank them in silence。 Half an hour later they made ready for bed。 There was no sign of either Richard or Sarah； but that was only to be expected。 Their daughter would creep in some hours later； closing the door softly behind her； leaving her shoes down in the hall。
Richard； however； would e in noisily； rattling crockery in the kitchen as he made himself a snack； and then stamping up to his room in his heavy boots。 Even then the nocturnal noises would not be finished。 Taps ran unnecessarily； the toilet was flushed； and sometimes he even put his record player on。
By the time they climbed into bed； Bob Coyle was convinced that the conversation of earlier was finished。 He put out the light； and rested his head on the pillow。 His thoughts were a kaleidoscope of recent happenings and meetings： Balzur's curse； the nuclear disposal； Dyne； Anne； Richard； Sarah 。 。 。 and then； without any warning； Jane groped for him。
He was too astounded either to resist or to cooperate。 Her fingers rumbled their way inside his pyjama trousers； sought and found his limpness。 It began to stiffen and pulse。 A vision of Anne crossed his mind； and he shuddered with betrayal。 Jane mistook it for passion。 She rubbed him more swiftly； more sensuously； her face moving close to his； her lips warm and demanding。 The first time for two months； and it was too late to turn back。 Why？ Oh； God； why did she have to plicate everything？ Maybe it was the four…letter word he had used which had aroused a slumbering eroticism within her。
His emotions were in a turmoil。 He lay immobile…shocked。 Her free hand began undoing the buttons of his pyjama jacket； loosening the cord around his waist and pulling the trousers down。 He did not raise his body to cooperate； but that made no difference。 She exerted all her strength； and soon his loins were bared。 The bedclothes were thrown back。 A sudden rustling of nylon； and he knew that she was naked。 At least the light was out； otherwise she would surely have noticed the expression on his face…not exactly revulsion； but perplexity and unwillingness。
He felt her clambering astride him； her thigh muscles pressing against him； trapping him； then the engulfing warmth as she claimed him。 She was breathing more heavily than he was； guiding his hands up to her breasts； wanting him； demanding him。
'I love you； Bob；' she murmured。
He should have replied； but the lie would not e。 Even in his own bed； the marital bed； the events within this valley would not allow him to escape。
'Do you love me； Bob？' The question he had been dreading。
'Yes；' the lie came at last； unconvincingly； but she appeared not to notice。
'It's as though'…she paused； rocking herself softly to and fro on him…'almost as though there's been a barrier between us for these last few months。 It's been the tension 。 。 。 this whole nuclear business。 It's been like 。 。 。 like another woman ing between us。 I should have tried to understand you…and admired you for what you were trying to do。 Well； I want you to know something。 No matter who's against you； even if the whole town； my own friends； ostracise me； I'm with you all the way。 And Richard can look after himself。'
He closed his eyes tightly； aware of the taste of blood on his lower lip。 His fingers squeezed her breasts； and then everything was blasted into oblivion with the shuddering force of his orgasm。
At first the long night hours passed slowly。 Coyle heard his wife's contented shallow breathing as she slept。 He envied her as he tossed restlessly； his nakedness buffeting her but not disturbing her。 He pitied her； for she believed her long mental struggle was over； and that she had triumphed。 But for him； events were rising fast towards a crescendo。
Later that night he dreamed of a valley engulfed in flames； buildings and hillsides an inferno。 And in the sky the mushroom…shaped smoke pall gradually taking the shape of a human head。 A face that was dark and evil； its lips muttering a silent curse on Mankind 。 。 。 widening into a grin of triumph 。 。 。 festering and oozing pus。
Bob Coyle awoke in the blackness of night； his trembling body soaked with sweat； his mouth dry。 He tried to recall that face。 It had been oddly familiar； as though someone he knew； or had met just recently。 But his memory failed hun； and finally he drifted back into uneasy sleep。
He wakened sometime after daybreak； recalling only snatches of that fiery nightmare。 He tried to visualise that face in the smoke…but it was gone as surely as if dispersed in the wind。 But it left a lingering； torturing reminder 。 。 。 something he should have known； a sinister warning snatched away from him。 Next time it came it could be reality 。 。 。 and too late！
Sarah Coyle struggled into her clothes in the cramped back seat of the Cortina。 Her tall； rangy male panion was already dressed。 His dexterity amazed her； the rapidity with which he always dressed； even to the perfect Windsor knot in his tie。 A flick of a b； and his blond hair was as neat as ever。
She cursed him silently as she struggled to groom herself with the aid of a small driving mirror and the interior light which he was reluctant to switch on。 Always scared in case some passer…by recognised them in the lay…by on the outskirts of town。 Damn him； he was only too eager to get her clothes off； but now that she had satisfied him； he was content to sit there smoking a cigarette； and watch her struggle to dress herself； occasionally clicking his tongue in annoyance at her slowness。 Almost unwillingly he assisted her with a zip。
'Damn it； you're only going home to bed；' he muttered。 She did not bother to explain for the hundredth time that there was always the chance that her parents might not have gone to bed early。 No girl relishes returning to the parental nest in the early hours of the morning with evidence of illicit sexual encounters evident on her person。 'Anyway； I thought you were going to get a flat of your own； and move out？' he helped her over into the front passenger seat。
'I'm still thinking about it。'
'It can't be much fun living with a family like yours。 Your dad still has this obsession about a radioactive leak。 Does he ever talk about anything else except trying to close down 〃Holocaust〃？'
'I don't take any notice now。'
'Well； you ought to。 If that place closed down； you'd be out of a job。 Still； I suppose he'd find you one at the Herald。 'You seem more worried about his efforts than he is。' 'It'd effect my livelihood。 Probably kill off my business altogether。 A few years ago I was living at subsistence…level out of one small hardware shop。 Somebody's floorboards came loose； so I sold them half a pound of nails。 Then the workers flocked into the new station。 I've now got three shops。 I employ a dozen people。 If your dad had his way； I'd be back to relying on the sale of a few nails and screws for my living。 See what I mean？'
'You really hate my dad； don't you？'
'No more than a lot of other tradesmen…like McLellan； and the rest of the council。 Not him personally； just what he's trying to do。'
'If it wasn't for him you wouldn't get what you've had off me tonight； would you？ Or maybe some other girl would serve just as well。'
'Don't be silly。' He slipped an arm around her； but she drew back； turning her head to avoid his lips。
'Don't start being bloody stupid。'
Tm not。 But all we ever do is screw on the back seat of your bloody car。 Twice in the last month you've taken me for a drink。 Eating out seems to have gone by the board； or are you afraid somebody will see us together in a restaurant？' The anger and sarcasm was building up in her voice。 'And what about this divorce？ You haven't mentioned that lately； either。 Seems to me you're getting the best of both worlds； David。 Well； you'd better sort something out； and e up with a solution。'
'I bought you that new outfit last week；' he muttered sullenly。
'Gee； thanks； Sugar Daddy。' She turned her head away towards the window。 'You're turning me into a bloody prostitute now。 I'd sooner do it for hard cash。'
He let in the clutch angrily； and slammed the gears。 Ten minutes later they were parked a hundred yards from the Coyle house； the engine ticking over。
'I'm sorry。' He managed； successfully this time； to put his arm around her。 Her lips met his； even though they were unresponsive。
'Get something worked out then；' she snapped。
'OK。' He squeezed her arm。 'I will。 I promise。 But don't forget one thing。 Your old man is knocking off that bird in his office。 It wouldn't do for that to get around town； would it？'
Sarah Coyle was sobbing quietly to herself as she let herself in the house； and crept up the stairs。
Richard Coyle stubbed out his cigarette in the battered tin lid which served as an ashtray。 He reached for his shirt and crumpled jeans which lay on the floor； and looked up at the naked girl stretched out