Free Better to Eat You by Charlotte Armstrong Page A

spurting, it crept toward the varnish.
    Deep down on the little beach, on the far side of the headland, David sunned himself on the sand beside Malvina.

Chapter 6
    They had gone into the water to swim strongly for only a very few minutes. The water was bitterly cold.
    Now Malvina sat passively, with an air of utter innocence, beside him. There was no coquetry, no purpose in her at all. Restless, David thought that by now Sarah would have found and read the note he had slipped on her desk. He thought it would have braced her and brought her out of that panic. He looked sideways at Malvina. There was nothing to be discovered from that innocent silence. He felt restless, and uselessly here. He did not want to stay.
    â€œMy conscience hurts me,” he said flatly. “I should be back with Sarah and the eighteenth century.”
    She stirred. Almost with an effort, she paid attention. “Why do you care about the eighteenth century,” purred Malvina, too carelessly, “or Sarah, either?”
    There was such ignorant contempt in the roll of her brown eyes, such a complacent assumption that by the flick of a lash she could keep him where he was, that David was angered. He didn’t let the anger show. Instead he got up in one swift motion and snatched up his towel. “Recess has been fun,” he said cheerfully.
    â€œWait. David …”
    But he was starting up the path.
    â€œDavid!”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI wanted to talk to you,” she said, “alone.” Her face was tilted up, he had an odd foreshortened view of it. “Please come back.”
    He thought perhaps she had a purpose, after all, and he had better see what could be gleaned from it. Reluctantly, he turned to come down. As he turned, he could see a fishing boat far out on the water and he noticed some excitement, something abnormal about the way the people were behaving. He shaded his eyes. They were waving their arms, obviously they were shouting, although he couldn’t hear them. And they were pointing.
    Moon was driving Malvina’s car through the cove when he saw the fire. He stopped the car, jumped out and ran to the nearest house. His jabber was not understood but his gestures were. The woman stepped out of her house and saw the fire and ran to the phone.
    David, unable to see any cause for excitement from where he stood, began to hurry up the path. But he took it warily, wondering if this, in some way, was what he was supposed to do. He was looking for danger to himself. Was he supposed to run up this unfamiliar path too fast and trip on something? Not me, he thought.
    He got to the top safely and saw Fox and Gust and Mrs. Monteeth, busy as they could be, heeding nothing. He started to walk along the sea walk, which led toward Fox’s study and the three of them, when he saw the streaks of smoke against the serenity of the bright blue sky. So he turned to his left and ran through the gap in the garden wall.
    The near end of the garage was a wicked mass of hurtling flames. The sound of a siren broke on his ear but David kept running. He remembered that the iron gate would be locked, so he swerved and went down Edgar’s steps. The laboratory door was locked. No use in that. David climbed on the steep land around the sea side of the building. The garage doors stood open, all three pairs of them. He used the nearest door for a ladder. He broke glass. He tumbled over the sill.
    She was alive in there, floundering drunkenly. With her hands thrust inside his leather brief case she was beating weakly at some flaming thing on his desk. He picked her up. The brief case fell. She snatched at paper. He threw her over his shoulder like a sack. He got half over the sill and slid her body forward feet first and finally, taking her by her reddened wrists, he lowered her until her feet touched ground.
    She could not stand. She fell backward and he tumbled and scrambled out after her, picked her up again, and ran