A Woman Involved. John Davis Gordon
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He did not believe this determined Catholic loyalty. There was some other reason why she stayed with him. She said, getting away from the question:
‘God, he’s a clever man with money. I’ve never known him to lose on a deal. Before the revolution, the old government relied on him enormously. He could have been Minister of Finance if he’d wanted, despite his youth and white skin. But he saw the New Jewel revolution coming. He sold everything he owned in Grenada. And now the revolutionary government also relies on him. His know-how. Or the Prime Minister does, Maurice Bishop. And the banks rely on him. The overseas banks and the International Monetary Fund.’
‘But how does he reconcile his wealth with being a socialist? He’s a hot-shot capitalist.’
She smiled. ‘Ah, but we socialists want everybody to be wealthy – with the people owning the means of production.’ She added, more seriously; ‘He’s not a socialist. But he’s an economist. If the government wants to be socialist, he’ll help them run their economy efficiently.’ She added defensively, ‘It’s a perfectly moral attitude. The old government was corrupt. The revolution here is a fait accompli. He wants to stay here. He can help.’
Morgan said: ‘There seems to be a big Cuban influence here. I saw them at the airport. What does Max think about that?’
‘Russian influence too. They’re building a big new airport.’ She sighed. ‘Max is a moderating influence. He’s persuading the Prime Minister to mend some of his fences with America.’
He said: ‘And you? You’re still a socialist?’
She looked at the sand as she walked.
‘Yes. Though I’m a bit more practical than when you knew me. I certainly don’t like what this government has done – nor what the communists are doing worldwide. But, yes, I want to see the wealth spread down to the workers who create it. Not stay in the hands of the fat shareholders who pay miserable wages. And, as far as I can see, the only way to achieve that, in cases where capitalism is entrenched and unfair, is for the workers’ government to take over and own the source of wealth.’ She smiled sadly. ‘We had many an argument about this at university, didn’t we? So now can we talk about you? …’
The sun was getting low. They lay under the palms, a yard apart; she traced a pattern in the sand while he said:
‘We were cruising happily up the Channel, back to Plymouth. We were going to dock before sunset. Your telegram was handed to me. And …’ He shook his head, half-smiling: ‘I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe it … I thought maybe it was some kind of bad practical joke from my mates ashore. Then I believed it – but I still didn’t. I had to concentrate on my job, and I kept thinking I was still marrying you in three days’ time.’ He smiled, because it didn’t matter now, everything was wonderful again now. ‘Anyway, we slogged on up the Channel. It seemed the longest passage of my life. I was bursting to get off the boat and go charging up the jetty to leap on the next aeroplane to Grenada.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Oh, why didn’t you? …’
He was happy. ‘Your telegram said: “Marrying Max tomorrow.” It was dated the day before.’
Her eyes were moist. ‘I didn’t marry him until several days later … But you wouldn’t have found me, anyway. I was in Las Vegas. He persuaded me to get the hell off the island. He was scared you’d show up. But …’ She breathed deep: ‘I couldn’t marry him for days.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, I was in such a mess. Each day he wanted to drag me off to one of those ghastly wedding chapels. But I couldn’t, because I was still in a nightmare about you. Oh my, you don’t know how many times I nearly jumped on a plane and went screaming over to England.’
He sighed. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I was in a much worse way than you because I was the one who had made all the heavy-duty decisions! I had taken it unto myself to change the course of the universe – I had been through all that agony of decision to turn my back on my knight in shining armour! …’ She laughed tearfully: ‘You only had to accept the decision without pranging the submarine!’
Morgan grinned. She smiled wanly. ‘I did kind of love Max. I was in love with you but I loved him. I had known him for years, he was part of the establishment. And he adored me. But you? … Oh my …’ She lay back in the sand and smiled up at the sky. ‘Lieutenant-Commander Jack Morgan, RN, who went down to the sea in ships. So handsome, so brave, so expert, so charming, so sexy, who made me laugh so much, who made me think so much – I was only so in love with you. And the pressure on me was enormous – from my family, and Max. “You hardly know him … You don’t really know what he’s like … ” And I’d have to go and live in rainy England – they really rubbed that in. Leave this lovely island, my whole way of life, and be a Navy wife, alone half the time – you won’t even know where he is because it’s all so bloody secret, you won’t even be able to write to him because he’s underwater, and you won’t even get any letters … And, of course, they said, he’s got no money.’
Morgan smiled. He believed this, but he knew that something else had happened too. But he was too happy to press her. ‘They were right on that one.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘what a mean little argument that was – and I told them so. Ah, they said, but you’re accustomed to so much, this life here, your trips to Miami and New York and Caracas … I shouted, “He’ll be a goddam admiral soon!’”
Morgan laughed. She smiled at him. ‘Which is true. Oh, but it was an intense war that was waged against you. And it all slowly added up to a terrible doubt growing in my mind.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And you were thousands of miles away, underwater. I couldn’t contact you, to get reassurance, just talk it out with you, explain my fears …’
He reached out and took her hand.
‘Well, now I’ve come to you.’
She looked at him; then two tears welled over her eyelids. ‘Far, far too late …’
He pulled her gently towards him; she watched his mouth as he whispered: ‘It’s never too late to be happy.’
And their mouths touched; and then crushed together; and, oh, the sweet taste and scent of her again, the joy, and he felt her tremble once, and then her arm went around his neck and she kissed him fiercely; then she bit his mouth and twisted out of his arms, and jumped up. She walked away, running her fingers through her hair.
He lay a moment, watching her, the lovely line of her, and oh, he loved her. Then he got up and followed her. They were a hundred yards from the hotel lights. He caught up with her and turned her towards him.
‘Come away with me.’
She looked at him with absolute longing, rigid against him; she started to shake her head, then she closed her eyes and her body went soft against him and she crushed her mouth against his again. And she kissed him and kissed him, as if she wanted to bite him, and he felt the bliss well up, the utter joy, her strong softness and smoothness, her breasts and her belly and her loins pressed against him; then she broke the kiss, and backed off, her face smouldering with emotion and her eyes full of tears.
–I’m going now … And I’m never coming back …’
He took a pace towards her and she stepped backwards. ‘Never coming back!’ She shook her head at him: ‘Do you believe that?’
He felt his eyes burn and he wanted to laugh. ‘No.’
She cried: ‘Never! Believe that! I cannot! I dare not! I’m still a coward, don’t you see? Goodbye, darling Jack! I love you – and goodbye …’
She turned and walked away fast, up the path towards the road, her head up, and the tears running down her face.
He stood in the dusk and watched her; and his heart was singing. Because