"Picnic At Lac Du Sang" - читать интересную книгу автора (Masterton Graham)

carried her in through the entrance hall. It was stark and brightly-lit,
but it was late now and there was nobody else around. He went up in the
elevator and by the time they reached the sixth floor she was beginning to
feel heavy.
He opened the door and carried her into the apartment. It wasn't much - a
plain, furnished place with two bedrooms, a bathroom and a small
kitchenette. By day it had a narrow view of the Prairies River, partly
blocked out by another apartment building. He took her through to the
bedroom and laid her on the bed. Over the white vinyl headboard hung an
almost laughably incompetent painting of a forest in the fall.
He sat beside her and took hold of her hand. 'Catherine?' he coaxed her.
'Come on, Cathetine. We're here now, sweetheart. We've escaped.'
Her eyes flickered open. She stared at him, first in bewilderment, and
then in horror. She sat up and looked around her. 'Oh God,' she said. 'Oh
God, this can't be true.'
'Come on, it's not that bad,' said Vincent. 'A few flowers, a couple of
loose covers.'
But Catherine ignored him. She climbed off the bed and went directly to
the mirror over the dressing-table. 'Oh God,' she kept repeating.
Vincent stood beside her as she peered frantically at her face.
'Catherine, nothing's going to happen to you. That story that Violette
tells ... it's only a way of frightening you.'
'But I was there. I was there at Lac du Sang in 1924.'
'You couldn't have been. It simply isn't possible. I don't know what
Violette did. Maybe she brainwashed you or something. But no day ever
lasted longer than twenty-four hours and nobody ever stayed young
forever.'
'You have to take me back. I'm pleading with you, Vincent. I'm pleading on
my child's life.'
'You want to go back? Back to what? Back to being a whore? Back to sucking
men's cocks and opening your legs to anybody who can pay the price?'
'Is that your problem? Is that why you took me away? Because you wanted me
to open my legs but you didn't want to pay for it?'
'For God's sake, Catherine, I took you away because I love you.'
For the first time she took her eyes away from her reflection in the
mirror. There was an expression on her face that he had never seen on any
girl's face before. It laid him open right to the bone, as if she had cut
him with a ten-inch butcher's knife.
It was after eleven o'clock. He asked her if she wanted anything to eat or
drink but she said no. He switched on the television in the living-room
but there was nothing on but lacrosse and an old Errol Flynn movie.
Catherine stayed in the bedroom, staring at the wall. In the end he came
in and sat next to her again. 'Listen,' he said. 'Maybe I made a mistake.'

She glanced up at him, and she looked very pale and very tired.
'If you want to go back, I'll take you back. I just thought I was doing
the right thing, that's all. Why don't you get some sleep and we'll make
an early start in the morning.'
She said nothing, but closed her eyes.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'm sorry for being in love with you. I'm sorry for