The Good Life (45 page)

He didn't let money worries spoil his evening with Madge, however. He enjoyed her enormously and almost forgot to miss Bet. They obviously suited each other and agreed to have many more dinners together.

“I'll take you next time,” Madge promised.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“You're not a bonehead about women, are you? What if I feel like seeing you again? Do you expect me to sit by the telephone and hope you'll call? Talk about ridiculous. I'll call you and invite you to dinner if I feel like it. I'll start right now. Do you want to have dinner with me on Thursday?”

“I'd be delighted. It seems sort of strange, but I suppose it makes very good sense. I wouldn't mind if it became a general rule. Let women pursue me. An excellent idea.”

He found Henry Sardou's embryo studio above a shop near 53rd Street on Madison. It was little more than a big bare room with some spotlights standing around it. Henry was getting his darkroom installed and explained to Perry some of the tricks he used on his negatives for special effects.

“George thinks I cheat, but he's a serious photographer. I'm a fashion photographer. There's a big difference. Have you done much photography?”

“None, but I'm interested. I'd like to try.”

“Have you got a camera?”

“I don't know one camera from another.”

“If you feel like spending money, get a Hasselblad and start taking pictures. I'll show you how to develop them.”

“Wonderful. What can I do for you in return?”

“Stick around if you have the time. There's plenty to do here.”

Henry had a restrained, unadorned manner that made Perry feel that he wouldn't let anybody get in his way, so Perry stayed almost two hours, making himself useful and picking up pointers about the work. When it was time for him to go, he offered to come the next morning and stay all day.

Henry accepted gratefully. “With your help I might even be ready to go to work next week. Thanks a lot. There's a good shop in the next block if you want to look at cameras.”

Perry was horrified by the price of cameras — the Hasselblad the shop had was over $300 — but he was excited by the opportunity he hoped Henry might offer and decided to take a gamble on it.

He had it with him when he went to lend a hand the next morning. They spent an hour playing with it, and Henry showed him how to adjust the various knobs and buttons to change the exposure.

When Perry had used up a roll of film, mostly on portrait shots of Henry, they shut themselves up in the darkroom and developed them. Perry felt like a magician. He realized that he liked creating things with his hands. Guided by Henry, he transformed an ordinary picture into something riveting simply by trimming the negative and leaving it longer in the chemical bath.

“This is fascinating, but it's not getting you any closer to being ready for work,” Perry said reluctantly. He would have been happy to take pictures and develop them for the rest of the day.

“It's good having somebody here. It helps me see better what has to be done. All this stuff has to be put away.”

There were stacks of photographs to be filed and bundles of newly printed stationery and billing forms with the Sardou Studio letterhead that had to be arranged in closets. “Are you going to have a secretary?” he asked when he went to work to create some order in the room.

“Yes. She's starting next week. After that I'll pray for customers so I can pay her wages. If you hear of anybody who wants their picture taken, send them along. I'll do anything.”

Perry put in an afternoon's work, taking a break for a quick lunch with Henry at a drugstore around the corner. He was doing something he could take an interest in for the first time since he'd been in New York, and he promised to come back the next day.

When he got home to Billy's he found the first letter from Bet waiting in his room. He ripped it open, grinning delightedly, and took it in at a glance before reading it carefully.

It was just what he wanted from Bet — a scandalously unorthodox love letter, funny and high-spirited and full of her impatience to get to New York. He could feel her presence and wanted her with him more than ever. She'd written it the day she had arrived back at school, just before war had been declared. The letter had taken a day or two longer than Billy had told him was normal, but they were in touch again.

He had started a letter to her that he had been holding back to avoid their letters' crossing; he could finish it first thing in the morning. Everything was all right. Knowing the mail hadn't been disrupted made him feel that he could expect her in no time.

When he went down to have a drink with Billy, a glass was waiting for him. “I've had a letter from Bet,” Billy announced. “I've been dying to tell you.”

“Thank God. That's wonderful. Does she have any news?”

“She's back in school. She wrote only about an hour after war had been declared. She was in a state of high excitement, naturally, already talking about passage home.”

“She mailed the letter after the war had started?” Perry smiled to himself with loving satisfaction. His letter had been written before Billy's.

“Barely two weeks ago. I should be hearing from the school any day now. They sounded so well-organized that I wouldn't be surprised if they've already booked her on a boat.” He drained his glass and held it up to Perry. “Would you, my dearest?”

“With pleasure.” He took it to the drinks cabinet and did the necessary. “Now that you know you're staying, won't you keep Laszlo later in the evening?”

“I must get organized. I'll ask him to get us a cleaning woman and give him some afternoons off, which he prefers. Would you like to take my place in a bridge game? Esther Myerson called earlier and asked me to make a fourth tomorrow, but I'm going to be much too busy with family business for the next few weeks to have any time for Esther. I used to play with her quite often before we went off for the summer. She has quite an establishment at the Drake and likes a weekly game in the afternoon. She usually plays for a penny a point, but you can settle that between you. Are you interested?”

“It sounds like rich pickings unless she's awfully good. Why not?”

“I'll call her. Let her fix the stakes as high as she likes. You have nothing to worry about.”

Billy made the call and, after explaining that he had found a good player, turned the phone over to Perry. He talked to a woman with a businesslike voice and made a date at her hotel for the next afternoon at 4:30. That left the better part of the day to give to Henry.

Perry arrived promptly at the studio for work. He soon had the place so well-organized that he had time for Henry to show him something about the lights before he had to leave for his bridge date. He offered to come again the next day.

“I don't know why I thought I could get started without you,” Henry said. “You're really interested, aren't you?”

“Very much so. I envy you — having a profession that's sort of like a hobby. Of course, you're talented. That makes a difference.”

“I'm not sure. George is a big talent. There's no doubt about that, but you could learn everything I know in a month and go into business for yourself. You have a feel for it. I'd like to see what you do with models. Would you consider taking a regular job as my assistant? I was planning to get started on my own, but I realize I'd work better and get more done with somebody like you to help. I can't pay more than forty dollars a week, at least until I see how things are going. Is there a chance you'd be interested?”

“I'll say.” This was the sort of thing Perry had been hoping for. With no background or training, he had a chance to pick up a profession that fascinated him. Bet would like his being a photographer. “What hours will you want me to work?”

“The usual, I guess. Let's say 9 to 5, with plenty of flexibility to fit in with whatever's going on. I suppose I'll close on Saturdays. This is wonderful. I'm lucky to have found you.”

“I'm
lucky you found me. Shall we call tomorrow my first day at work?”

He had a worthwhile job at last. It made playing bridge seem more respectable. The other three players were well-dressed, self-confident middle-aged women who took the game seriously without being forbiddingly good at it. He won almost fifty dollars.

His partner's name was Nora Angstrom, and she asked him to join a group that met every Sunday afternoon at her place at the St. Regis. Listening to the ladies gossiping, he got the impression that the city was teeming with affluent widows living in luxury hotels who were looking for a fourth at bridge. Not for the first time, he realized it could be the source of a useful supplemental income and accepted Mrs. Angstrom's invitation. He had to have money coming in when Bet arrived, and he didn't like being entirely dependent on Billy when he was going against his wishes.

He told Billy about the job the next evening over drinks before going to meet Madge for dinner. Billy beamed.

“I'm delighted, my dearest. It sounds just like the thing for you, a real opportunity, not just a way to fill the day.”

“Exactly. You've spoiled me for the routine office job that I probably wouldn't be able to get anyway. I'm interested in photography, and I'm friendly enough with Henry for him to show me how everything works.”

“It sounds perfect.”

“I'm thrilled.”

“I imagine the next step is finding a flat. You know I love having you here, but I'm not going to let myself become too dependent on you. Shall I have the office look up some possibilities for you?”

“I don't want much. Something small in this neighborhood. I want a furnished place.”

“You don't want your own furniture?”

“Not yet. I've never really lived here. I'll just take my time.” He couldn't yet tell him that he wanted to wait for Bet before buying anything, and Billy didn't make a point of it.

“Here we are, settling,” Billy said with a shrug of resignation. “You wouldn't have wanted to go back to France now in any case. Once we get Bet here, I'm going to enjoy New York. I'm sure you will too. Everything has a silver lining, as the song says.”

“I hope you don't miss France too much, but I'm glad you can't go. Just in the weeks we've been back, I'm beginning to feel at home in a way I didn't before we left. I've been meeting people I like. I'm being taken to dinner tonight by a lady. It's Madge Constant. Do you know her? She's pretty well-known as a nightclub singer. She's a knockout.”

“You'll know all the people who're doing things. It's exciting to watch you and know I found you first.”

“Found me and gave me a chance to make something of myself, such as it is. Henry thinks I could be a pretty good photographer.”

“This is a big city. It's typical of you to find exactly what you want in it and get right down to business.”

“The trick now is to make the studio a success. Will you come in and let Henry take some pictures of you?”

“I hate having my picture taken, but I'll do it for a worthy cause. Make an appointment for me, and I'll be there.”

Perry began to get used to keeping an engagement book and having engagements to put in it. He was dazzled by having an intimate dinner with Cole Porter in his opulent apartment high in the sky at the Waldorf Towers. The fact that he looked like an absentminded frog and had been seriously crippled by the accident on a horse didn't bother Perry. He had written “Begin the Beguine” and every other song Perry had ever hummed and was the embodiment of all the city's glamour.

He made Perry promise to call as soon as he had a phone number of his own and told him he was looking forward to seeing a lot of him.

He had an elegant dinner at Clifton Webb's, where he met Barbara Stanwyck. After another week he felt as if he knew everybody in town and was beginning to sort them out. Most of them formed part of an attractive, increasingly familiar background.

Madge had a great chum named Johnny Jardine, and they began to go out frequently as a trio. Sex was a hurdle until Johnny began to joke about the effect Perry had on him, and then they forgot about it. Johnny had a big apartment on 70th Street, complete with a manservant named Hillman. It was the way Perry would like to live with Bet.

After looking around and taking his time, Perry moved into two rooms on Madison Avenue at 61st Street, for which he didn't have to sign a lease. It looked clean and freshly decorated, and the furniture was inoffensive.

His new telephone began to ring as Laszlo redirected calls to him. One of the first was from Timmy, just off the boat and still breathless from the excitement of crossing under wartime conditions. He was late for school and had to go right through, but they talked about his coming back for a weekend as soon as school and his funds permitted.

He wrote Bet about the apartment he would be in when she arrived, and she wrote constantly about all the changes in her sailing dates. They changed from one letter to the next. Billy reported regularly on the latest changes, usually a week or so after Perry already knew them.

His bridge games led to others, and he soon took it for granted that he would be able to win between one hundred and two hundred dollars a week, depending on whom he played with. Getting to be known around town as a professional cardplayer seemed to him like a step down the social ladder rather than up. He limited himself to one or two games a week and devoted most of his time to the studio, which began to attract business.

He had a big drinking night with Lucius Beebe, and a few days later Lucius referred to him in his column as “the well-known connoisseur of fine vintages.” He met a mild middle-aged man named Maurey Paul, who wrote a society column under the name of Cholly Knickerbocker. Perry got a mention in his column too. He sent the clippings to Bet to show her that the way was being prepared for her.