iv
When, a few minutes later, Amelia emerged from the weeds, she was fully dressed and carrying the corset between the handles of her bag.
I said: “Are you not going to discard that? It is manifestly uncomfortable to wear.”
“Only for long periods,” she said, looking very abashed. “I shall leave it off for the rest of the day, and wear it again tomorrow.”
“I shall look forward to helping you,” I said, sincerely. “There is no need for that By tomorrow we will be back in civilization, and I will hire a servant”
Since she was still flushed, and I was not a little excited, I felt it appropriate to say: “If my opinion is at all valuable to you I can assure you that your figure is just as trim without it”
“That is not to the point Shall we continue on our way?”
She stepped away from me, and I followed.
All this had been a temporary distraction from our plight, for soon the sun had moved far enough towards the west for the weed-bank to start throwing a shadow. Whenever we walked through this we felt immediately much colder.
After another half an hour’s walking I was just about to propose a rest, when Amelia suddenly halted and looked towards a shallow depression in the ground. She walked briskly towards it.
I followed her, and she said: “We shall have to bivouac again. I think we should prepare now.”
“I agree in principle. But I feel we should walk as far as possible.”
“No, this place is ideal. We shall stay the night here.”
“In the open?”
“There is no need for that. We have time to prepare a campsite before nightfall.” She was regarding the depression with a calculating manner. “When I was in Switzerland I was shown how to build emergency shelters. We will need to make this hole rather deeper, and build up the sides. If you would do that, I will cut some of the fronds.”
We argued for a few minutes—I felt we should take advantage of the daylight and press on—but Amelia had made up her mind. In the end, she removed her jacket and walked over to the weed-bank, while I crouched down and, with my hands, started to scoop out the sandy soil.
It took approximately two hours to construct a camp-site to our mutual satisfaction. By this time I had removed most of the larger pebbles from the depression, and Amelia had broken off a huge pile of the leafiest, fern-like branches. These we had laid in the depression, making a bonfire-like mound of leaves, into the base of which we proposed to insinuate ourselves.
The sun was now almost out of sight beyond the weed-bank, and we were both feeling cold.
“I think we have done all we can,” Amelia said.
“Then shall we shelter inside?” I had now seen the wisdom of Amelia’s wish for early preparation. Had we walked further we could never have made such elaborate precautions against the cold.
“Are you thirsty?”
“I’m all right,” I said, but I was lying. My throat had been parched all day.
“But you have taken no liquid.”
“I can survive the night.”
Amelia indicated one of the long, creeper-like stalks that she had also brought to our bivouac. She broke off a piece and held it out to me. “Drink the sap, Edward. It is perfectly safe.”
“It could be poisonous.”
“No, I tried it earlier while I was removing my stays. It is quite invigorating, and I have suffered no ill-effects.”
I placed the end of the stalk to my lips and sucked tentatively. At once my mouth was filled with cold liquid, and I swallowed it quickly. After the first mouthful, the flavour did not seem so unpleasant.
I said: “It reminds me of an iron-tonic I had as a child.”
Amelia smiled. “So you too were given Parrish’s Food. I wondered if you would notice the similarity.”
“I was usually given a spoonful of honey, to take away the taste.”
“This time you will have to manage without.”
I said, boldly: “Maybe not.”
Amelia looked sharply at me, and I saw the faint return of her earlier blush. I threw aside the creeper, then assisted Amelia as she climbed before me into our shelter for the night.
Chapter Seven
THE AWAKENING OF AWARENESS
i
We lay still, side by side, for a long time. Although Amelia had selected those plants she judged to be the driest of sap, we discovered that they were seeping beneath us. In addition, the slightest movement allowed the air to drift in from outside. I dozed for a while, but I cannot speak for Amelia.
Then, awakened by the insidious cold which was attacking my feet and legs, I felt Amelia stiffen beside me.
She said: “Edward, are we to die out here?”
“I think not,” I said at once, for during the day the possibility had often occurred to me, and I had been trying to think of some reassurance to offer her. “We cannot have much further to travel.”
“But we are going to starve!”
“We still have the chocolate,” I said, “and as you yourself have observed, the sap of these weeds is nutritious.”
This at least was true; my body hungered for solid food, but since taking the sap I had felt somewhat stronger.
“I fear we will die of exposure. I cannot live in this cold much longer.”
I knew she was trembling, and as she spoke I heard her teeth chattering. Our bivouac was not all we had hoped.
“Please allow me,” I said, and without waiting for her dissent I moved towards her and slid my arm beneath her head and shoulders. The rebuff of the night before was still a painful memory, so I was pleased when she came willingly, resting her head on my shoulder and placing an arm across my chest. I raised my knees a few inches so that she could slide her legs beneath mine. In doing this we dislodged some of our covering foliage, and it took several more seconds to redistribute them.
We lay still again, trying to recapture that comparative warmth we had had until we moved. Several more minutes passed in silence, and our closer contact began to bear fruit in that I felt a little warmer.
“Are you asleep, Edward?” Her voice was very soft.
“No,” I said.
“I’m still cold. Do you think we should quickly cut some more leaves?”
“I think we should stay still. Warmth will come.”
“Hold me tighter.”
What followed that apparently simple remark I could never have imagined, even in my most improper fancies. Spontaneously, I brought my other hand across and hugged her to me; in the same moment Amelia too placed her arms fully about me, and we discovered we were embracing each other with an intimacy that made me throw aside caution.
Her face was pressed directly against the side of mine, and I felt it moving sensuously to and fro. I responded in kind, fully aware that the love and passion I had been suppressing were growing in me at an uncontrollable rate. In the back of my mind I sensed a sudden despair, knowing that later I would regret this abandonment, but I thrust it aside for my emotions were clamouring for expression. Her neck was by my mouth, and without any attempt at subterfuge I pressed my lips to it and kissed her firmly and with great feeling. Her response was to hold me yet tighter, and uncaring of how we dislodged our shelter we rolled passionately from one side to another.
Then at last I pulled myself away, and Amelia turned her face and pressed her lips against mine. I was now lying almost completely atop her, and my weight was on her. We broke apart eventually, and I held my face half an inch from hers.
I simply said, with all the sincerity of absolute truth: “I love you, Amelia.”
She made no answer other than to press my face to hers once more, and we kissed as if we had never stopped. She was everything that could ever exist for me, and for that period at least the extraordinary nature of our immediate surroundings ceased to matter. I wanted simply that we should continue kissing forever. Indeed, by the very nature of her response, I assumed that Amelia was in accord. Her hand was behind my head, her fingers spread through my hair, and she was pressing me to her as we kissed.