“Well, don’t mess about,” Sydney said. “This is serious. Now come on; let’s get it over.”
He got out of the car.
“We’re coming,” Cora said.
As Sydney moved away down the lane she fell against George, her hands pulling his head down to her open mouth. A suffocating desire engulfed him. They remained like that for some time, their mouths crushed together, and then Cora pushed him away and slid out of the car.
“Come,” she said.
As if hypnotized, George followed her. His heart hammered against his ribs and blood sang in his ears. He couldn’t think about Crispin. He couldn’t think of anything.
Cora held his arm. She was pulling him along. He couldn’t see, and his feet stumbled. Sweat dripped down his face. The air had gone dead. There was no movement in the trees; no wind, only a hot stillness that oppressed him. In the distance, thunder rumbled. A line of black clouds began to edge above the horizon.
“Quiet,” she said softly, and he could feel her trembling.
Sydney moved towards them out of the darkness.
“It’s all right,” he whispered. “He’s there, and alone.”