1979 - You Must Be Kidding Read Online Free Page A

snapped off and the green light came on.
    ‘I’ll be glad to help out,’ he said, aware his voice was husky. ‘How about tools? Maybe I had better go home and . . .’
    ‘I have everything,’ she said. ‘No problem. Let’s go.’
    They got in his car.
    ‘It’s a godawful drag,’ she said, as she settled herself beside him. ‘Last week, I got caught speeding for the third time, and the fuzz have taken my licence away for a month. Last night, I had to take a taxi to the cabin.’
    ‘The cops here are sharp,’ Ken said, as he set the car in motion. ‘Where do we go?’
    ‘Paddler’s Creek. Know it?’
    Ken registered surprise.
    ‘That’s the hippy colony.’
    ‘Right. My cabin is about half a mile from them. When I get bored, I visit them. They visit me.’ She laughed. ‘I dig them.’
    ‘That’s a pretty tough quarter.’
    ‘It’s fine.’
    Ken stopped at the end of the lane and waited for a break in the Sunday traffic to move onto the highway. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be doing this. He should be heading for Fort Lauderdale, but when the break came, he turned left, away from Fort Lauderdale, and drove along the busy highway.
    Very aware of Karen as she sat by his side, he found nothing to say. His heart was thumping, and his hands on the steering wheel were moist.
    Karen seemed content to relax, humming under her breath, one long leg crossed over the other.
    After a mile or so, she said, ‘Take the next turning on the left.’
    Ken slowed, signalled, and then, as other cars whizzed by him, he turned onto a narrow sandy road that led down to the sea. Ahead of him, he saw a thicket of Cypress and Mango trees.
    ‘Park here,’ Karen said. ‘We walk the rest of the way. It’s not far.’
    He parked in the shade of the trees, and they both got out. The evening sun was still hot. As he locked the car, Karen walked into the thicket, following a narrow, sandy path. He stood for a moment, watching the swing of her well-rounded, provocative hips. Her walk really turned him on.
    In the far distance, he could hear faint shouts, the sound of guitars and the thump of drums. The hippy colony was expressing itself. This part of the sandy beach was deserted. The citizens of Paradise City kept clear of Paddler’s Creek. Following Karen for a longish walk through dense thickets and flowering shrubs, watching the movement of her body, his heart now slamming against his ribs, Ken threw all caution to the winds. He knew he was going to be unfaithful to Betty. As he walked after Karen, he tried to assure his conscience that most men were unfaithful to their wives. He told himself he loved Betty, and no other woman could replace her, but this girl, walking ahead of him, had set him on fire. Betty would never know.
    They came out of the thicket into a clearing. Ahead of them was a small pine wood cabin with a veranda.
    ‘Here it is,’ Karen said. ‘All mine!’
    He followed her up three steps and onto the veranda.
    Taking a key from her bag, she unlocked the door. Together, they moved into one big room, and she closed the door.
    The air conditioner was on. The sunblinds were down and the room was dim and pleasantly cool.
    He stood by her side, looking around.
    Simply and comfortably furnished with a big settee and three lounging chairs, a T.V. set, a cocktail cabinet, an oval table with four upright chairs, and in the far corner, a king’s sized divan, the room presented itself as a relaxing love nest.
    His voice unsteady, Ken said, ‘Nice . . . well, to work. Where do you want your shelves?’
    She laughed.
    ‘Come on, Ken! You know as well as I do there are no shelves. I want you. You want me.’ She unzipped the back of her dress and let it drop around her feet. She had on only a pair of white panties. She held out her arms to him.
     
    * * *
     
    Ken woke with a guilty start, finding himself in darkness. For a moment or so, he didn’t know where he was.
    He thought he was at home and in bed with