A Dream of Wessex by Christopher Priest Read Free Book Online Page B

building had to blend with the planners’ conception of a holiday centre. Accordingly, the reinforced steel and concrete shells of the buildings were faced with plaster and stucco and whitewash; the balconies and terraces overlooking the sea were integral parts of the tensioned skeletons, and yet were decorated with wrought-iron filigrees, and pinewood panels, and trailing abundant greenery; the windows were laminated, the roofs were prefabricated in one piece to appear as if tiled, and the streets, although charmingly narrow and cobbled, were straight enough and wide enough to allow emergency service vehicles access to any part of the town.
    Even the mosque, whose dome and minarets dominated the town, would suffer only surface cracks should an earthquake strike.
    In the distance, the Blandford cannon boomed, and Harkman sat down on the dry grass to wait for the tide to flood into the inlet. Here the water was always deeper than by Dorchester Harbour, and when the effect of the wave arrived twenty minutes later it was no more than about half a metre high. The little yachts were able to ride it out without difficulty, and across the water Harkman could hear the shrill, excited cries of children.
    This was, in fact, not the wave at all, but the first ripple caused by the monstrous arrival of the main wave at Blandford Passage. But it was enough to remind Harkman of his intention to buy a skimmer the next day, and as more and more waves swept slowly down the inlet as the tide rose he was wondering if by the following evening he would have the nerve to make his first attempt at the Blandford wave.
    That night, though, as he lay in his room at the Commission hostel, Harkman’s thoughts were of Maiden Castle, and of a pretty dishevelled girl with evasive eyes.
     

six
     
    Julia was woken by Greg’s hands moving over her body. She lay with her back towards him, feeling him press himself against her. It was always like this in the mornings: Greg woke first, aroused, and before she was barely conscious he would want to make love. Each night, as sleep came on her, she would dread the morning, knowing the inevitability of his demands.
    Still dreamy with sleep she tried to slip back, as if this alone would push him away from her.
    Greg reached over her, put a hand under her cheek and turned her face towards his. He kissed her, and she felt his hot breath and moist lips on her mouth, his beard rasping on her cheek. She was limp, unresponding; she could not even make her eyes open.
    ‘Julia ... kiss me,’ he said hoarsely, but his mouth was against her ear now, and the words were a gassy, hissing intrusion. He thrust his hand through her legs from behind, and clutched at her sex. She turned towards him then, forcing him to take his hand away, and he put both his arms around her, kissing her voraciously. She stayed unresisting, and in a moment he pushed his way into her. She was dry and unaroused, and the gasp she gave he mistook for passion, and his movements became urgent and possessive. Through long habit she moved with him, but she felt nothing, only discomfort.
    The pleasure of it was his alone; she could not remember the last time she had enjoyed sex with him.
    By the time he had reached his panting, noisy climax she was fully awake, and she lay under his weight feeling tense and very aware of her own sexuality. She could feel him inside her, shrinking wetly, and she contracted her muscles against him, reaching for sensation ... but Greg, not noticing, pulled himself away from her without a word and lay beside her on his face, breathing deeply.
    Every day it was the same! She responded to him, but too late, and when she was ready he was finished. She reached down and felt herself damp and warm, and the pressure of her hand brought an involuntary contraction of the muscles.
    She looked at Greg beside her; he was not asleep, but his desire was exhausted. She would not stir him, would not try to. Greg made love his own way.
    Julia