gns.theplutopact-第10节

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ll　fizzle　out。　I　just　pray　that　he'll　lose　interest　in　her。　Nothing　I　can　do；　anyway。　Richard　knows　about　both　her　and　me。　We've　never　been　very　close。　He　hit　me　once。　He　was　sixteen　at　the　time。　I　could　have　killed　him。　That　was　when　the　real　breach　started　between　us。　He　hates　my　guts。　Sometimes　I　wish　I　could　return　the　pliment；　but　it　doesn't　work　out　that　way。　He's　still　seeing　that　Lakin　girl。　I　saw　them　together　in　town　the　other　night。'
　　
　　'She's　a　right　slut。'
　　
　　'That's　putting　it　mildly。　She　came　down　here　from　Aberdeen；　and　her　reputation　wasn't　long　in　following　her。　I've　heard　it　said　that　she　was　making　a　hundred　quid　a　week　out　of　the　oil…riggers。　I　slave　my　guts　out　to　earn　that。　She　did　it　easily；　just　lying　on　her　back　with　her　legs　open。　And　now　she　has　to　e　down　here　and　latch　on　to　my　son。　Maybe　it's　as　well　I　resigned　from　the　council。'
　　
　　'You　can't　be　held　responsible　for　what　your　kids　do　when　they　grow　up。　These　things　sort　themselves　out。'
　　
　　'Like　we'll　have　to。'　He　shook　his　head　sadly。　'I　couldn't　do　without　you；　Anne；　not　now。'
　　
　　'You　won't　have　to。'　She　kissed　him　again。　'I　don't　need　to　guess　the　contents　of　next　week's　lead　article；　do　I？'
　　
　　'I'll　knock　it　out　tomorrow。'　His　expression　became　grim。　'The　toughest　yet。　I'll　phone　Kent；　too；　and　get　it　in　the　dailies　as　well。　The　people　of　this　country　will　have　been　warned　in　the　gravest　possible　terms。　After　that；　it's　up　to　them；　but　you　know　how　lethargic　the　British　people　are　a　sort　of　it'll…never…happen…to…us　attitude。'
　　
　　The　evening　meal　was　already　in　progress　when　Bob　Coyle　walked　into　his　semi…detached　house　on　the　outskirts　of　the　old　town。　Richard　looked　up；　his　mouth　full；　his　greasy　unkempt　hair　straggling　around　his　shoulders。　He　had　not　even　bothered　to　change　out　of　his　overalls。　Coyle's　thoughts　momentarily　dwelled　on　the　protective　clothing　his　son　would　have　worn　during　the　day。　No　doubt　it　was　already　on　its　way　somewhere　as　low…level　waste。　Then…eyes　met…recognition　but　no　greeting。　Scorn　from　a　son　who　knew　his　father　would　terminate　his　source　of　employment　if　it　was　within　his　power。
　　
　　Coyle　looked　over　at　Sarah。　Her　petite　figure　was　clad　in　a　bright…green　trouser…suit　which　showed　off　everything　to　perfection。　No　doubt　Houston　had　bought　it　for　her。　Short　dark　hair；　perfectly　groomed；　obviously　she　had　been　to　the　hairdressing　salon　that　afternoon。　Another　favour　from　Houston？　Perfectly　moulded　features；　lips　that　almost　smiled。　Almost。　He　read　her　expression　only　too　clearly。　Contempt　for　an　adulterous　father。　He　wished　he　could　reciprocate　with　a　similar　feeling；　but　he　sensed　only　regret。
　　
　　'Your　dinner's　in　the　oven。　I'll　fetch　it　for　you。'
　　
　　Coyle's　gaze　moved　to　Jane　as　she　rose　and　crossed　towards　the　oven。　Even　her　apron　could　not　hide　her　still　shapely　figure。
　　
　　Coyle　took　his　place　at　the　head　of　the　table；　and　began　to　eat　mechanically。　He　wasn't　hungry；　but　it　was　something　to　do　in　an　atmosphere　heavy　with　family　discord。
　　
　　'Enjoy　your　trip　up　to　our　place　today？'　Richard　sneered。
　　
　　Coyle　paused；　his　fork　halfway　to　his　mouth。　The　omission　of　'Dad'　made　the　question　seem　all　the　more　insolent。
　　
　　'It　was　just　business；'　he　replied　slowly；　and　filled　his　mouth　with　curry。
　　
　　'Maybe　you'll　get　your　facts　right　in　this　week's　article。'　Richard　cleaned　his　plate　with　a　chunk　of　bread；　but　did　not　raise　his　eyes。　'Or　are　you　going　to　invent　some　more　crazy　legends？'
　　
　　'The　town　now　has　its　very　own　ic　paper；'　Sarah　added。　'Why　can't　we　have　it　all　in　cartoon…strip　form；　Dad？　Something　like　the　Beano　or　Dandy。　Or　maybe　even　a　science…fiction　thriller…you　know；　Dennis　Wheatley　style。　〃Balzur　will　e　again　to　take　vengeance　on　the　offspring　of　those　who　burned　him　at　the　stake〃。'
　　
　　Both　of　them　laughed　sarcastically。　Only　Jane's　face　was　grave。
　　
　　'I　think　the　whole　subject　is　better　not　discussed　at　the　table；'　she　rapped。　'Your　father's　work　is　his　own　concern；　and　we　shouldn't　be　talking　shop　at　meal…times。'
　　
　　'Shop！'　Richard　scraped　his　chair　back。　'Dad's　the　laughing　stock　of　our　place。　The　trouble　is　he's　a　bad　joke。　Anyway；　I'm　going　out。　I　can't　stop　here　with　this　drivellish　conversation。'
　　
　　'Don't　you　think　you　should　change　your　clothes　before　you　go　out？'　Jane　asked　nervously；　trying　to　exert　her　declining　authority　in　the　household。
　　
　　Richard　did　not　reply。　Nor　did　he　look　at　either　of　his　parents　as　he　opened　the　door；　then　slammed　it　behind　him。　Seconds　later　they　heard　the　roar　of　his　motor…cycle。
　　
　　Sarah　left　the　table　and　went　upstairs。　She　came　down　a　few　minutes　later　wearing　a　three　quarter…length　coat　which　matched　her　trouser…suit。　Her　cheeks　were　flushed。　Embarrassment　and　guilt；　Coyle　decided。　She　was　fully　aware　that　her　father　knew　she　was　going　back　into　town　to　get　herself　screwed。　This　father…daughter　blackmail　pact　was　being　unnerving　for　both　of　them。
　　
　　As　Jane　began　to　clear　the　dishes　away；　Bob　lit　a　cigarette。　She　was　drying　the　first　of　the　dishes　before　she　spoke。
　　
　　'It's　plain　enough　what　your　children　think　of　you；　isn't　it？　The　laughing…stock　of　the　nuclear　station；　the　newspaperman　attempting　to　create　sensationalism　at　pulp　literature　level。　So　you've　been　up　there　today；　have　you？　Aware　yet　that　your　imagination　has　been　running　riot？'
　　
　　'No。'　He　tilted　his　chair　backwards。　'In　fact　I've　convinced　myself　that　we're　sitting　right　on　top　of　the　most　devilish　bomb　ever　conceived　by　mankind…one　that　could　blow　us　to　hell　without　warning。'
　　
　　'They're　distributing　circulars　in　town。　Petition　forms。　Scruffy　youths　handing　them　out　in　the　streets。　I　see　they're　printed　and　distributed　by　the　Herald。　You're　going　too　far；　Bob。　The　whole　thing　has　been　fully　explained　on　television　and　in　the　newspapers；　and　you're　deliberately　setting　yourself　up　against　the　greatest　scientists；　technologists；　and　politicians　in　the　world；　waging　a　one…man　war　against　this　place　you　call　〃Holocaust〃。　People　are　looking　at　me　in　the　streets。　My　friends　are　sniggering　behind　my　back。　I　can't　stand　it　any　longer！　And　all　that　nonsense　you　wrote　about　Pluto　has　made　a　mockery　of　the　whole　thing…yourself　particularly。'
　　
　　Coyle　remained　silent；　and　lit　another　cigarette。　Already　he　had　presented　his　own　arguments　too　many　times　in　these　last　few　weeks。　And　if　his　own　wife　would　not　support　him；　there　was　no　point　in　going　all　over　that　same　ground　again。　He　was　only　glad　he　had　Anne。
　　
　　Neither　of　them　spoke　again　until　they　adjourned　to　the　next　room。　Usually　Jane　switched　on　the　television；　and　Coyle　hoped　she　would　do　that　now。　Instead　she　flung　herself　into　an　armchair；　as　if　exhausted。　That　meant　that　there　was　a　discussion　in　the　offing。　An　argument。　He　sighed；　and　braced　himself。
　　
　　'Bob；　there's　something　else　I　want　to　talk　to　you　about。'
　　
　　Her　words　jarred　him。　He　felt　his　stomach　muscles　contracting。　Always　the　unexpected…that　was　typical　of　a　woman。　Maybe　Sarah　had　told　on　him；　a　sort　of　twisted　revenge　for　all　that　he　had　printed　about　her　employers。
　　
　　'It's　about　Richard。'
　　
　　Coyle　tried　not　to　show　his　relief　too　visibly。
　　
　　'What　about　him？'
　　
　　'He's　seeing　a　girl。　I　don't　know　her　first　name；　but　Mrs　Bean　told　me　about　her。　The　family　live　not　far　from　here。
　　
　　Lakin's　her　name。　Oh；　Bob；　she's　a　。　。　。　she's　a　prostitute！'　'Nonsense。'　He　didn't　make　it　sound　very　convincing。
　　
　　'It's　true。　Mrs　Bean　is　no　gossip。　She's　been　worrying　herself　stiff　for　a　fortnight；　wondering　whether　or　not　to　tell　me。　Bob；　what　are　we　going　to　do？　It's　your　responsibility。　You　must　talk　to　him；　man　to　man。'
　　
　　Suddenly　Coyle　felt　very　angry。　Always　confrontations。　Did　nobody　ever　get　anywhere　in　this　life　without　direct　conflict？
　　
　　'Richard's　old　enough　to　look　after　himself。　Every　man　has　to　gain　experience　somewhere。　That's　just　what　he's　doing　now。'
　　
　　'But　she's　a　prostitute！'
　　
　　'It's　only　hearsay；　vicious　gossip。'
　　
　　'Mrs　Bean　isn't　a　gossip。'
　　
　　'Well；　maybe　she's　mistaken。　Anyway　he　hasn't　announced　his　engagement　to　this　whore；　has　he？'
　　
　　'But　。　。　。　'　Jane　blushed　deeply。　'He'll　be　。。。　having　relationships　with　her。'
　　
　　'You　mean　he's　fucking　her。'　Bob　threw　every　vestige　of　cruelty　he　could　muster　into　those　words。　Never　before　had　he　used　a　four…letter　word　in　front　of　his　wife。　Well；　it　was　his　intention　to　shock　her。
　　
　　'You　。　。　。　you　what？'
　　
　　'I　said　he's　fucking　her。　And　apart　from　the　social　stigma　involved；　your　main　concern　is　that　he　might　get　a　dose　of　the　clap。'
　　
　　Jane　sank　back　into　her　chair；　horrified；　speechless。
　　
　　'Then　。　。　。　you're　not　going　to　do　anything　about　it；'　she　murmured；　her　face　white。
　　
　　'There's　nothing　I　can　do。　He'll　have　to　find　out　all　about　it　for　himself。'
　　
　　He　wished　she　would　switch　on　the　television。　Instead　they　just　sat　there　in　silence；　not　even　looking　at　each　other。　At　eleven　o'clock　she　made　two　cups　of　coffee；　and　they　drank　them　in　silence。　Ha