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.They staggered toward thehouse, whipsawed by the wind, until the rogue wave she'd anticipated burst over the seawall and sent themrolling helplessly a good fifty feet before its force was spent.When she saw Ransome's face again beneath the flaring sky he was blue around the mouth but his eyeshad opened.He tried to speak but his chattering teeth chopped off the words."WHAT?"He managed to say what was on his mind between shudders and gasps."I'm n-n-not w-worth it, y-you know."Hot showers, dry clothing.Soup and coffee when they met again in the kitchen.When she had Ransomeseated on a stool she looked into his eyes for sign of a concussion, then examined the cut on his forehead,which was two inches long and deep enough so that it would probably scar.She pulled the edges of the cuttogether with butterfly bandages.He sipped his coffee with steady hands on the mug and regarded her withenough alertness so that she wasn't worried about that possible concussion."How did you learn to do this?" he asked, touching one of the bandages."I was a rough-and-tumble kid.My parents weren't always around, so I had to patch myself up."He put an inquisitive fingertip on a small scar under her chin."Street hockey," she said."And this one "Echo pulled her bulky fisherman's sweater high enough to reveal a larger scar on her lower rib cage."Stickball.I fell over a fire hydrant.""Fortunately.nothing happened to your marvelous face.""Thanks be to God." Echo repacked the first aid kit and ladled clam chowder into large bowls, straddleda stool next to him."Ought to see my knees," she said, as an afterthought.She was ravenous, but beforedipping the spoon into her chowder she said, 'You need to eat.""Maybe in a little while." He uncorked a bottle of brandy and poured an ounce into his coffee.Echo bowed her head and prayed silently, crossed herself.She dug in."And thanks be to God for savingour lives out there.""I didn't see anyone else on those rocks.Only you."Echo reached for a box of oyster crackers."Do I make you uncomfortable?""How do you mean, Mary Catherine?""When I talk about God.""I find that.endearing.""But you don't believe in Him.Or do you?"Ransome massaged a sore shoulder."I believe in two gods.The god who creates and the god who destroys."He leaned forward on the stool, folded his arms on the island counter, which was topped with butcherblock, rested his head on his arms.Eyes still open, looking at her as he smiled faintly."The last few days I've been keeping company with the god who destroys.You have a good appetite,Mary Catherine.""Haven't been eating much.I don't like eating alone at night.""I apologize for being away for so long."Echo glanced thoughtfully at him."Will you be all right now?"He sat up, slipped off his stool, stood behind her and put a hand lightly on the back of her neck."I think the question is after your experience tonight, will you be all right with me?""John, were you trying to kill yourself?""I don't think so.But I don't remember what I was thinking out there.I'm also not sure how I happenedto find myself sitting naked on the floor of the shower in my bathroom, scrubbed pink as a boiled lobster."Echo put her spoon down."Look, I cut off your clothes with scissors and sort of bullied you into theshower and loofah'd you to get your blood going.Nothing personal.Something I thought I'd better do, orelse.I left clothes out for you then went upstairs and took a shower myself.""You must have been as near freezing as I was.But you helped me first.You're a tough kid, all right.""You were outside longer than me.How much longer I didn't know.But I knew hypothermia could killyou in a matter of minutes.You had all of the symptoms."Echo resumed eating, changing hands with the spoon because she felt as if her right hand was about tocramp; it had been doing that for an hour.She had cut off his clothes because she wanted him naked.Not out of prurience; she'd been scared andangry and needed to distance herself from his near-death folly and the hard reality of the impulse that haddriven him outside in his shirt and bare feet to freeze or drown amid the rocks.Nude, barely conscious, andsemicoherent, the significance of Ransome was reduced in her mind and imagination; sitting on the floor ofthe shower and shuddering as the hot water drove into him, he was to her like an anonymous subject in alife class, to be viewed objectively without unreliable emotional investment.It gave her time to think aboutthe situation.And decide.If it was only creative impotence there was still a chance she could be of use tohim.Otherwise she might as well be aboard when the ferry left at sunrise."Mary Catherine?"'Yes?""I've never loved a woman.Not one.Not ever.But I may be in love with you."She thought that was too pat to take seriously.A compliment he felt he owed her.Not (hat she mindedthe mild pressure of his palm on her neck.It was soothing, and she had a headache.Echo looked around at Ramsome."You're bipolar, aren't you?"He wasn't surprised by her diagnosis."That's the medical term.Probably all artists have a form of it.Soaring in the clouds or morbid in thedepths, too blue and self-pitying to take a deep breath."Echo let him hold her with his gaze.His fingers moved slowly along her jawline to her chin.She feltthat, all right.Maybe it was going to become an issue.He had the knack of not blinking very often thatcould be mesmerizing in a certain context.She lifted her chin away from his hand."My father was manic-depressive," she said."I learned to deal with it.""I know that he didn't kill himself.""Nope.Chain-smoking did the job for him.""You were twelve?""Just twelve.He died on the same day that I got my when I "She felt that she had blundered Way too personal, Echo and shut up."Became a woman.One of the most beautiful women I've been privileged to know.I feel that in a smallway I may do your father honor by preserving that beauty for who knows? Generations to come.""Thank you," Echo said, still resonant from his touch, her brain on lull.Then she got what he wassaying.She looked at Ransome again in astonishment and joy.He nodded."I feel it beginning to happen," he said."I need to sleep for a few hours.Then I want to go back to thatportrait of you I began in New York.I have several ideas." He smiled rather shyly."About time, don't youthink?"NINEAfter a few days of indecision, followed by an unwelcome intrusion that locked two seemingly unrelatedincidents together in his mind, Cy Mellichamp made a phone call, then dropped around to the penthouseapartment John Ransome maintained at the Hotel Pierre.It was snowing in Manhattan.Thanksgiving hadpassed, and jingle bell season dominated Cy's social calendar.Business was brisk at the gallery.The Woman in Black opened the door to Cy, admitting him to the large gloomy foyer, where she lefthim standing, still wearing his alpaca overcoat, muffler, and Cossack's hat.Cy swallowed his dislike forand mistrust of Taja and pretended he wasn't being slighted by John Ransome's gypsy whore.And whoknew what else she was to Ransome in what had the appearance, to Mellichamp, of a folie a deuxrelationship."We were hacked last night," he said."Whoever it was now has the complete list of Ransome women.Including addresses, of course."Taja cocked her head slightly, waiting, the low light of a nearby sconce repeated in her dark irises."The other, ah, visitation might not be germane, but I can't be sure.Peter O'Neill came to the gallery afew days ago.There was belligerence in his manner I didn't care for.Anyway, he claimed to know AnneVan Lier's whereabouts.Whether he'd visited her he didn't say.He wanted to know who the other womenare [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]