Джон Фаулз – The French Lieutenant's Woman / Любовница французского лейтенанта (страница 10)

Sam first fell for her because she was a summer's day after the drab dollymops[129] and gays who had constituted his past sexual experience. Self-confidence in that way he did not lack. He had fine black hair over very blue eyes and a fresh complexion. He was slim and well-built. Women's eyes seldom left him at the first glance. What had really knocked him a cock[130] was Mary's innocence. He suddenly wished to be what he was with her; and to discover what she was.

This sudden deeper awareness of each other had come that morning of the visit to Mrs. Poulteney. They had begun by discussing Mr. Charles and Mrs. Tranter. She thought he was lucky to serve such a lovely gentleman. Then Sam, to his own amazement, found himself telling this milkmaid something he had previously told only to himself.

His ambition was very simple: he wanted to be a haberdasher. He had never been able to pass such shops without stopping and staring in the windows. He believed he had a flair for knowing the latest fashion. He had traveled abroad with Charles, he had picked up some foreign ideas in the haberdashery field.

But for that he had neither money, nor education. Mary had modestly listened. Sam felt he was talking too much. But each time he looked nervously up for a sneer, he saw only a shy and wide-eyed sympathy. His listener felt needed[131], and a girl who feels needed is already a quarter way in love.

The time came when he had to go. It seemed to him that he had hardly arrived. He stood, and she smiled at him, a little mischievous again. He wanted to say that he had never talked so freely – well, so seriously – to anyone before about himself. But he couldn't find the words.

“Well. Dessay we'll meet tomorrow mornin'.”

“Happen so.”

“Dessay you've got a suitor an' all.”

“None I really likes.”

“I bet you 'ave. I 'eard you 'ave.”

“' Tis all talk in this ol' place.”

He fingered his bowler hat[132]. A silence. He looked her in the eyes. “I ain't so bad?”

“I never said 'ee wuz.”

Silence. He worked all the way round the rim of his bowler[133].

“I know lots o' girls. All sorts. None like you.”

“Taren't so awful hard to find.”

“I never 'ave. Before.” There was another silence. She would not look at him, but at the edge of her apron. “ 'Ow about London then? Fancy seein' London?”

She grinned then, and nodded.

“Expec' you will. When they're a-married orf hupstairs. I'll show yer round.”

“Would 'ee?”

He winked then, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes looked at him over her pink cheeks.

“All they fashional Lunnon girls, 'ee woulden want to go walkin' out with me.”

“If you 'ad the clothes, you'd do. You'd do very nice.”

“Doan believe 'ee.”

“Cross my 'eart[134].”

Their eyes met and held for a long moment. He bowed and pressed his hat to his left breast.

“A demang[135], madymosseile.”

“What's that then?”

“It's French for tomorrow mornin' – where yours truly[136] will be waitin'.”

She turned then, unable to look at him. He stepped quickly behind her and took her hand and raised it to his lips. She snatched it away, and looked at it as if his lips might have left a sooty mark. Another look flashed between them. She bit her pretty lips. He winked again; and then he went.

Whether they met that next morning, in spite of Charles's prohibition, I do not know. But later that day, when Charles came out of Mrs. Tranter's house, he saw Sam waiting on the opposite side of the street. Charles made the Roman sign of mercy[137], and Sam uncovered, and once again placed his hat over his heart – his face bore a wide grin.

Which brings me to this evening of the concert nearly a week later. Sam was in that kitchen again. Unfortunately there was now a duenna present – Mrs. Tranter's cook. But she was fast asleep[138] in her chair in front of the opened fire of her range. Sam and Mary sat in the darkest corner of the kitchen. They did not speak. They did not need to. Since they were holding hands. On Mary's part it was self-protection, since she had found that it was only thus that she could stop the hand trying to feel its way round her waist. Why Sam should have found Mary so understanding is a mystery no lover will need explaining.

18

For two days Charles's hammers lay in his rucksack. But then, Ernestina had a migraine, and he found himself unexpectedly with another free afternoon. He hesitated a while; but the events that passed before his eyes as he stood at the window of his room were so few, so dull. There was little wind, little sunlight. He had intended to write letters, but he found himself not in the mood.

To tell the truth he was not really in the mood for anything.

Half an hour later he was entering the woods of Ware Commons. If he met Miss Woodruff, he would do, politely but firmly, what he ought to have done at that last meeting – that is, refuse to enter into conversation with her.

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