Читать книгу Аэропорт / Аirport онлайн | страница 17

“You knew perfectly well that tonight was important to me, and a week ago you made a definite promise.”

“A week ago I didn’t know we were going to have the biggest storm in six years…”

“You’ve people working for you, haven’t you? Or are the ones you’ve chosen so incompetent they can’t be left alone?”

Mel said irritably, “They’re highly competent. But I get paid to take some responsibility, too.”

“It’s a pity you can’t act responsibly to me.”

Mel sensed that Cindy was getting close to boiling point. Without any effort, he could visualize her now, clear blue eyes flashing, and her blonde coiffed head tilted back in that damnably attractive way she had when she was angry. In their early years of marriage, his wife’s temper outbursts seldom dismayed him. In the past, when his eyes had made their appreciative assessment, some two-way physical communion sprang into being, prompting each to reach out, to touch one another, impulsively, hungrily. The result was predictable. The origin of Cindy’s anger was forgotten in a wave of sensuality.

It was, of course, not a way of resolving differences which were fundamental. As the years passed, and passion lessened, accumulated differences became more sharply accented.

Eventually, they ceased entirely to use sex as a panacea and, in the past year or so physical intimacy of any kind had become more and more occasional.

“Most of the time I go along with what you want, even though I don’t think the things we go to are all that important. What I would enjoy are a few more evenings at home with the children.”

“That’s a lot of crap,” Cindy said.

Perhaps she was right, to an extent. Earlier this evening he had been reminded of the times he had stayed at the airport when he could have gone home—merely because he wanted to avoid another fight with Cindy.

But apart from that, tonight was different. He ought to stay on at the airport.

“I do know you’re my wife, which is why I intend to get down there just as soon as I can.” A thought struck him. “Incidentally, what’s the occasion tonight?”