VIRGINIA

VIRGINIA 

"Ginny?" ["Virginia?"]

"I'm over here, by Ali's [Alice's] tomato plants. This stake fell down and I can't retie the vine."

"Okay." He turned and walked over to her. "Which one? I can't see it."

"Here," said Ginny [Virginia], pointing.

Tanner knelt down and saw the stake. It hadn't fallen over, it had been snapped. "I'll fix it tomorrow."

He got up. Ginny stood very close to him and put her hand on his arm. He realized they couldn't be seen from the house.

"I broke it," Ginny said.

"Why?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

She had undone several buttons of her blouse below the neckline. He could see the swell of her breasts. Tanner wondered if Ginny was drunk. But Ginny never got drunk, or if she did, no one ever knew it.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Dick, for one thing, I apologize for him. He can become gross ... rude, when he's upset."

"Was he rude? Upset? I didn't notice."

"Of course you did. I was watching you."

"You were wrong."

"I don't think so... Wait a minute." Ginny laughed softly. "I don't frighten you, do I?"

"My friends don't frighten me," Tanner said, smiling.

"We know a great deal about each other."

Tanner watched Ginny's face closely, her eyes, the slight pinching of her lips. He wondered if this was the moment the unbelievable was about to be revealed to him. If it was, he'd help her say it. "I suppose we always think we know our friends. I sometimes wonder if we ever do."

"I'm very attracted ... physically attracted to you. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," said Tanner, surprised.    

"It shouldn't bother you. I wouldn't hurt Ali [Alice] for the world. I don't think physical attraction necessarily means a commitment, do you?" 

"Everyone has fantasies."

"You're sidestepping."

"I certainly am."

"I told you, I wouldn't harm your [marriage] commitments."

"I'm human. They'd be harmed."

"I'm human, too. May I kiss you? At least I deserve a kiss."

Ginny put her arms around the startled Tanner's neck and pressed her lips against his, opening her mouth. Tanner knew she was doing her best to arouse him. He couldn't understand it. If she meant what she was doing, there was nowhere to complete the act. 

Then he did understand. She was promising.

She meant that.

"Oh, Johnny! Oh, God, Johnny!"

"All right, Ginny. All right. Don't...." Perhaps she really was drunk, thought Tanner. She'd feel like a fool tomorrow. "We'll talk later."

Ginny pulled slightly back. Her lips to the side of his. "Of course, we'll talk later.... Johnny? ... Who is Blackstone?"

"Blackstone?"

"Please! I've got to know! Nothing will change, I promise you that! Who is Blackstone?" 

Tanner held her shoulders, forcing her face in front of his own.

She was crying.

"I don't know any Blackstone."

"Don't do this!" she whispered. "Please, for God's sake, don't do this! Tell Blackstone to stop it!"

"Did Dick send you out here?"

"He'd kill me," she said softly.

"Let me get it straight. You're offering me ..."

"Anything you want! Just leave him alone.... My husband's a good man. A very, very decent man. He's been a good friend to you! Please, don't hurt him!"

"You love him."

"More than my life. So please, don't hurt him. And tell Blackstone to stop!"

She rushed off into the garage.

He wanted to go after her and be kind, but the specter of Omega prevented him. He kept wondering whether Ginny, who was capable of offering herself as a whore, was also capable of things far more dangerous.

But Ginny wasn't a whore. Careless, perhaps, even provocative in a humorous, harmless way, but it had never occurred to Tanner or anybody Tanner knew that she would share her bed with anyone but Dick. She wasn't like that. 

Unless she was Omega's whore.

Suddenly he was aware that he wasn't alone. Leila Osterman was standing several feet behind him on the grass. She'd come outside silently; or perhaps he was too preoccupied to hear the sound of her footsteps.

"Oh, hi! You startled me."

"I thought Ginny was helping you."

"She ... spilled filter powder on her skirt..."

(p. 197-200)

 

- Robert Ludlum: THE OSTERMAN WEEKEND, Dell Publishing, New York.

Kishalay Sinha [G]