Silver Linings, стр. 7
“Better?” Hugh asked, not unkindly.
“Yes, thank you,” she whispered, her tone very formal. She stared straight ahead and realized she could see nothing. “Hugh, I'm not very good in confined spaces.”
“Don't worry, babe, you'll do just fine.” He went back to rummaging around in his string bag. “Only takes a few minutes to get through these tunnels. Now, where did I put that flashlight?”
“Please do not call me babe.”
He acted as if he didn't hear her. “Ah, here we go. I knew I'd stuck it in here somewhere.” He pulled the flashlight out of the bag, switched it on, and played it across the cavern walls. “Like I said, no problem. We'll be through here in no time. We just follow Cormier's markings. There's the first of them.”
Mattie picked up her burdens and stared bleakly at the small white mark on the damp wall of the cavern. She would never have noticed it if Hugh had not pointed it out. “Couldn't we walk through the jungle to the other side of this mountain and approach Cormier's secret dock from that direction?”
“Nope. That's the beauty of his hiding place. No access from the sea side except by boat, and you'd have to know about the flooded cavern or you'd never notice the opening in the rock face. The only other route in is through these caves, and if someone didn't know the way, he'd get hopelessly lost in minutes.”
“I see. How very reassuring,” Mattie said weakly.
“I told you Cormier was one sly old fox. Ready?” Hugh was already moving forward with characteristic self-confidence, clearly expecting her to follow without question.
He did everything with that supremely arrogant, blunt, no-nonsense style, Mattie reflected angrily. Literally everything, including making love, as she knew to her cost. She doubted Hugh would have even known how to spell finesse or tact or subtlety if asked to do so. The words were simply not in his vocabulary.
How could she have ever thought herself in love with this man? she wondered in disgust as she trailed after Hugh. She had nothing at all in common with him. He was obviously not even the least bit claustrophobic, for instance. It would have been nice to know he had some small, civilized neurosis, some endearing little weakness, some modern anxiety problem.
She, of course, had plenty of all three.
It took everything she had to follow Hugh through the dark maze of twisting caves. With every step the walls narrowed, trying to close in on her. Just as they used to do in those old, frantic dreams of her childhood, dreams in which there had been no way out.
She'd had enough psychology in college to understand those dreams. They had been manifestations of the anxiety and pressure she had felt during her childhood to find an acceptable niche in a family that considered lack of artistic talent a severe handicap.
The dreams of being caught in an endless tunnel had become less frequent after she had gone off to college. She rarely had them at all these days, but they had left their legacy in the form of her claustrophobia.
Mattie followed Hugh past several dark, gaping mouths that led into other twisting corridors. Her skin crawled as waves of fear moved over her, but Hugh never hesitated, never seemed uncertain. He just kept moving forward like a wolf at home in the shadows. Every so often he paused only to check for a small mark on the cavern wall.
Mattie concentrated on the circle of light cast by the flashlight and tried to picture the view of Elliott Bay she enjoyed from the window of her apartment in Seattle. During meditation training she had learned to summon up such serene pictures in order to quiet her mind.
The walk through the winding lava corridors was the longest walk of her life. Once or twice she felt large, wriggling things go crunch underfoot, and she wanted to be sick again. Every ten steps she nearly gave in to the urge to scream and run blindly back the way she had come. Every eleven steps she took more deep breaths, repeated her mantra, and forced herself to focus on the moving beam of light and the strong back of the man who was leading her through the caves of Purgatory.
She resented Hugh with the deep passion a woman can only feel for a man who has rejected her, but she also knew that she could trust him with her life. If anyone could get her out of here, he could.
“Mattie?”
“What?”
“Still with me, babe?”
“Please don't call me babe.”
“We're almost there. Smell the sea?”
With a start Mattie realized she was inhaling brinescented fresh air. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do smell it.”
She concentrated on that reassuring rush of fresh air as she followed Hugh around another bend in the corridor. Not long now, she told herself. Hugh would lead her through this. He would get her out of here. He was a bastard, but he was very good at what he did and one of the things he did best was survive. Aunt Charlotte had always said so. But, then, Aunt Charlotte was biased. She had always liked Hugh.
Mattie bit back another scream as the corridor briefly narrowed even further. Her pulse pounded, but the scent of the sea grew stronger. The corridor widened once more, and she inhaled sharply again.
“Here we go. Paul always knew what he was doing.” Hugh quickened his own pace.
Mattie remembered Paul Cormier lying on the white marble floor. “Almost always.”
“Yeah. Almost always.”
“Did you know him well, Hugh?”
“Cormier and I went back a long way.”
“I'm sorry.”
“So am I.” Hugh came to a halt as the passageway abruptly ended in a wide, high-ceilinged cavern.
Relief washed over Mattie as she realized she could see daylight at the far end of the huge cavern. She was safe. Hugh had led her out of the terrible dream.
She dropped her purse