"Guy N. Smith - Night Of The Crabs 2 - Crabs Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Guy N)

Chapter One

Friday-Shell Island



IREY WALL glanced at the stocky fair-haired man beside her, noted the way he
crouched over the steering wheel, a pose that was definitely intended to
impress. A show-off. She looked away, told herself that she was the biggest
bloody fool on earth. It wasn't too late, though. She could say 'I'm sorry,
Keith, but I've changed my mind. Take me back to the camp, please.' But that
needed courage, the kind she didn't have right now. He'd convince her
otherwise in that same persuasive tone that he had used last night as he had
shouted in her ear in an attempt to make himself heard above the grating sound
of the cheap dance band as they had smooched around the floor. She even knew
what he would say. 'Don't be bloody daft, Irey. We're only going for a ride
out to Shell Island, find ourselves a quiet stretch of beach for an hour or
two. There's no harm in that, is there? The break from the kids will do you
good, and they'll be fine with the Greencoats. They won't even miss you.
Christ, you can't stay in the camp all week, which you'd have to do without me
because you don't have a car. You'd go bloody crazy stopping in there the
whole time, a permanent stink of candyfloss and fish and chips, and those
bingo callers never letting up so that you go to sleep repeating numbers to
yourselves instead of counting sheep. Hell, you're safe enough with me and
nobody will give us a second glance. Then, before you know it, you'll be back
with the kids and today'll just be a memory.' Irey sighed, stared at the queue
of holiday traffic ahead of them. There was no point in starting an argument
with her companion. She didn't have the energy, anyway. It was too damned hot.
Whatever will be, will be.

The car slowed to a halt, its engine ticking over. She closed her eyes and her
mind went back to last night.

It had seemed so exciting then, just a harmless flirtation. The atmosphere and
a couple of gins had made it that way. She'd put her chalet on the patrol
rota, told the Greencoats they would find her in the Pearl dance hall if they
needed her. The kids were asleep when she'd left and in all probability they
would never even know she had been out. Good kids they were, Rodney, six and
Louise, four. Irey had had an urge to go out somewhere; maybe a quick drink or
some fish and chips would have been a better idea. It was difficult at times
like these being a woman. You weren't meant to go out on your own. If you
didn't have a man then you either stopped in or else you went out and found
yourself one. And when men saw you out on your own they automatically presumed
you were looking for one thing. It wasn't bloody well fair. Her fingernails
dug into the sweaty palms of her hands. The traffic edged forward a few yards
and then stopped again. Irey opened her eyes, closed them again.

Indirectly it was all Alan's fault. What husband and father with any sense of
love and responsibility shoved his wife and kids off to a holiday camp so that
he could have a fortnight's fishing with his mates from work? Well, Alan