The Fourth Cart

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nick Price glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside cabinet. It was well past midnight, and he’d had no sleep yet. Magee’s visit had been far too unsettling. He got out of bed, slipped on a dressing gown and eased open his bedroom door. A few paces along the galleried landing and he was outside his most private of rooms. He eased himself in quietly and wandered around as if searching for a long lost item. He retrieved a suitcase from a wardrobe, placed it on the bed and opened it to reveal a pile of towels and sheets. Sheets from their bed. Sheets he’d slept in, with Maliwan curled lovingly in his arms. He slipped his hand underneath the towels and withdrew a stack of photographs.

  He stood for a while conjuring up fond memories. At the bottom of the stack was a copy of the same photograph Magee had shown him earlier. It had been Mal’s twenty-first birthday party. And he’d only been six months older himself. They’d all been so young. Too young, perhaps, to appreciate the madness, the sheer stupidity of believing they could get away with mounting a raid on Tibet. Why, oh why, had he ever believed in Keith Gibson’s tale of buried treasure? So often, he’d heard that greed kills. It was a saying that had meant nothing to him. Not until he’d lost Mal. How could he have been so insane as to risk her life?

  He propped up the photograph on a table, switched on a portable record player, set the controls to re-play automatically and settled down in an armchair. As the Righteous Brothers sang their rendition of Unchained Melody, his eyes misted over. Seconds later, on the chair opposite him, Maliwan appeared, looking serene as usual.

  As the arm of the record player made its way back to the beginning, Nick stood and said, ‘Care to dance?’

  Maliwan’s answer drifted into his mind. Of course. Don’t I always?

  Nick took his wife in his arms and gently glided around the room as the song played again.

  ‘I’ve missed you Mal, so much.’

  I’m here for you though, my love, every night. Just you and me, just our love, forever.

  Nick burst into tears. If only he could hold her all day, not just these brief interludes during the evening. He wanted to walk hand-in-hand with her in the garden, to stroll through the bluebell woods in the springtime, to kick up wet rust coloured leaves in the autumn.

  ‘Oh, Mal,’ he cried, ‘please stay with me. I need you so much.’

  I know, my love, I know.