The Good Life (46 page)

With a job and a place to live taken care of, he had nothing left to do but wait and hope the time would pass quickly. Henry encouraged him increasingly to take over for him in the studio. He began to get good results with his own camera, and his ideas for unconventional shots were frequently effective. With all the help Henry could give him, he thought he might make a pretty good photographer.

Bet turned eighteen. Bet wrote that December 12 had been finally fixed as the sailing date and that she would be boarding the boat in Holland. A letter followed a few days later saying that December 8 was the definite sailing date from Cherbourg. It was typical of the way the war was going that nowhere in Europe was yet closed to travel. People were beginning to call it a phony war.

Madge became an almost daily companion, and Perry shared all Bet's secrets with her. She arranged for him to be invited to a debutante ball of a friend of hers, and they got all dressed up — Perry in his tails — and went to the Plaza, where the ballroom had been rented for the occasion.

“You might as well see how we socialites amuse ourselves,” she said. “I think debutante balls are a thing of the past. Everybody's beginning to complain about the income tax. They say if we get in the war, nobody will be able to afford anything anymore.”

It was a lavish affair, with Eddy Duchin's band and an inexhaustible supply of champagne and every other sort of drink. He had crashed society.

“Are you bored to tears?” Madge asked.

“Far from it,” Perry said. “In my vulgar way, I was thinking how much it must've cost.”

“The whole point of these things is to show off how much you can spend. You should've gone to Brenda Frazier's bash in the spring.”

“I didn't know her then or have you to introduce me to society.”

November started on a cheerful note when Henry told him that he was going to raise his salary. “You should be getting at least four times what I give you, but I can't do anything above that. You keep the place going and bring in more than half the business. I just want you to know I appreciate it, for whatever that's worth. All I can do about it is put you up to fifty a week. May be when I pay off some debts, I can make it more. I'd like to.”

“Thanks, Henry. What I'm learning is worth another fifty a week. You can count that.”

“If you're going to figure like that, I'll let you do the Wilder job this afternoon and call it an extra-special bonus.”

The subject of money cropped up again when he met Billy for his birthday dinner.

“That's the paper we talked about in London,” Billy explained, handing him a legal-looking document. “The lawyers say that it gives you a valid claim on my inheritance as soon as I get it.” With his head cocked, Billy's eyes widened with self-satisfaction. He looked like a benevolent bird. “Now, shall we have a bottle of champagne to celebrate your approaching old age?” He rang for Laszlo, who was working in the evening now, and the bottle was brought with a bucket of ice. “Bring a glass for yourself, Laszlo. You have to toast the old man.”

“Am I allowed to toast?” Perry asked. “I want to drink to lots more birthdays with the present company.”
And with Bet too
, he thought to himself.

When Laszlo left them, Billy produced the familiar Tiffany box. It contained a heavy chain of chunky gold links. “I wanted you to have one all summer. I noticed the men are wearing jewelry much more than they used to. Gold on your manly chest, especially when you're tanned, will make everybody swoon.”

“It's a beauty, Billy. I can hardly lift it. I'll soon be worth my weight in precious metal.”

December began with a letter in which Bet announced to Perry that she probably wouldn't write again. She expected to board a cargo boat in a few days. “You'll probably hear me coming. I'll be shouting with joy the entire way. I won't even mind if we don't make it for Christmas as long as I'm heading in that direction. Tell Mum her travel arrangements are making me crazy. Oh, darling, you've got to marry me and rescue me from her.”

Arlene took charge of her arrival to the extent that any human power could. She had plans for what they would do if the boat made it for Christmas and a different set of plans for post-Christmas celebrations. They all involved family and excluded Perry. He was amazed that nobody suspected him of taking anything more than a friendly interest.

Christmas was only two weeks away when Billy heard from the shipping line that Bet's boat had reached North Africa, where it would be delayed at least a week. “She's having a winter cruise,” Billy said cheerfully. “Are you plotting anything special for Christmas?”

“Not really. The usual parties. Nothing I can't live without.”

“I know what. Let's have a picnic. I'll get pounds of caviar and a whole foie gras, and we'll gorge ourselves. Would you like that?”

“It's the best offer I've had so far. You can count on me.”

As being with her again approached, Perry began to get nervous. May be it had been a beautiful illusion that would turn out to be too fragile to survive the strain of their long separation.

Only two days before Christmas, Billy reported from the shipping line that the boat was just leaving Casablanca. “At least she's safely clear of Europe. They say the crossing may take ten days.”

They had caviar for Christmas, and Perry decided to go ahead and make plans for New Year's Eve as though he didn't expect Bet to be there. He didn't ask Billy for any more news so as not to appear overeager, and none was forthcoming until the dead week after Christmas was almost over, when Billy volunteered the latest from the line.

“I don't think they really know themselves, but they say it'll be the first couple of days of January. I remind myself that at least she's safe, to keep myself from fretting pointlessly.”

Perry made a round of New Year's Eve parties and stayed up all night, hoping it would be the last evening he would be at loose ends.

He picked up the phone at the studio two days later to hear a voice saying, “I want an emergency appointment to have my picture taken before my hair turns white.”

He stared at the instrument in a paralysis of delight and then let out a whoop of joy. “My God, it's you!” he cried. “I don't believe it. This is an awfully good connection for Casablanca. Where are you?”

“At the Lombardy. I don't believe it either. It's taken me half my life to get here, and then nobody's here expecting me. That stupid boat. They wouldn't take our cables unless they had something to do with somebody being dead.”

“But sweetheart — you're here. I've got to see you. When did you get here?”

“Just this minute. We've been waiting since dawn to be allowed off the boat. They treated us like the fifth column. Mummy has me tied up for the day already — or so she thinks. I'll have to have lunch with her, but then I'll escape. We can talk about the rest of the day later. If you call, don't ask for me by name, or you might get Mummy. Ask for 302. That's the room. I want to see where you're living. My hideaway. When are you going to have your vile man's way with me?”

“Right now. Or do I have to wait for you to have lunch?”

“This is too exciting to be true. Talking to you. Oh, dear, I can't think straight. No, darling, I have to wait till after lunch. Can you be at your place by 4? She can't keep me later than that.”

“I'll be there. Don't hang up. Talk to me. Tell me you're still mad about me. Have you been getting all my letters?”

“I don't think there've been any gaps. You've been very good, much better than I thought men ever were. I don't know what would've become of me if you hadn't been. It was such a shock being without you. Do you realize it's been over four months? Oh, darling, I
am
mad about you. Do you suppose it's still mutual?”

“It must be. I've checked with you every day about everything I've done. You've been with me the entire time.”

“I hope I haven't been a nuisance. Did I make frightful scenes whenever you wanted a girl?”

“I hoped you wouldn't notice, but you didn't let me get away with anything. The beauties in New York think I'm a dud.”

“A likely story. Never mind. I'll find out everything in no time.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you're here, but you're not
here
. This is worse than your being in Casablanca. For God's sake, go have lunch and get that over with. I know you won't be allowed to put off your grandmother tonight, so we're not going to have much time anyway. I want to hear all about everything. I told your mother we arranged in Saint-Tropez for me to show you all the places you'd heard about, so that isn't a secret. I didn't tell her we were writing all the time. She'll be so busy finding presentable men for you that she won't think much about me. Just avoid mentioning me as much as possible.”

“Here we go again, leading our secret life in full view of everybody. Do you think either of us is going to be able to hang up?”

“May be if we both try at once. I love you, sweetheart. I can't wait to hold you while I tell you so. Four o'clock. Don't be late. My name's on the bell. My God. More than four months. I don't expect much in the way of conversation this afternoon, but I think I'll make it clear what I'm thinking. Ready, baby? One, two, three, go.”

He hung up, grinning at the nearest spotlight. There was nothing to worry about there. Everything was back the way it belonged.

He went home well before 4 to make sure the place was ready for her, feeling that life had already been marvelously transformed by her being there. He was resigned to her having to give a lot of time to Arlene and her suitors, and he didn't mind as long as Bet didn't show any signs of taking them seriously.

When the doorbell rang, he laughed out loud with sheer excitement and hurried to let her in. He went blind pushing the entrance button before opening the door, and then she was in his arms. They clung to each other, laughing breathlessly and making incoherent attempts at speech that trailed off into avid kisses. His hands recovered possession of her adorable body, and he began to see again.

She was almost unrecognizable — a chic, citified young woman wearing a pert hat. Her tan was gone and with it the little-girl look. By the time he got her into the bedroom, the hat was gone too. He dropped his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Let me, darling,” she said, pushing his hands out of the way. “What's happening in your trousers makes me as curious as if I'd never seen you naked. What a lovely tease.” She pulled out his shirttails and ran her hands over his chest. “You've got a new chain. Sexy. I think I like you better without a tan. You're more romantic.”

“Let me see how beautiful you are without a tan.”

They sank onto the bed in each other's arms, and more clothes went. He drew back when she was looking scandalously abandoned, her stockings still on and her bra hanging loose, and gloated over her.

“Yes, honey. You're a dream without a tan. So naked. My goodness, baby, you feel good. How did I do without you?” He disposed of her remaining odds and ends of clothing and stood briefly to strip.

“Yes. Stand there a minute and let me look. It's bigger than I remember. Come take me, darling. I thought it was never going to happen again.”

They came together as if they had never been apart. Everything in them met and matched. He could feel the fulfillment she found in his body. She made him proud of it. Everything he had felt during the summer was still there. He wouldn't let her get away from him. He could handle her; they belonged together.

“We're lucky, sweetheart,” he sighed, stretching out luxuriously beside her, feeling physically at peace for the first time since she had left him to go back to school. “I thought you'd never make it, but now that you're here I've already forgotten the waiting and the suspense. I've got a key for you. Is she going to try to run your life?”

“Of course. She's planned some small dinners for an approved list of men. When I get tired of them, I can invent lots of people I went to school with that I have to see.”

“Don't get caught.”

“She can't check up on people who don't exist. I'm learning. The Lombardy's going to be easy. I can go in and out without anybody noticing me. I can do my social duty and then spend the night with you. What time do you go to work?”

“It's fairly relaxed. Around 9:30.”

“Perfect. I'll go back to the hotel when you go out. We'll even have time to get some sleep. Don't go to sleep now. I like what's happening. We have another lovely hour. Do you have a date for this evening?”

“I don't remember. Yesterday's a blank. Your grandmother won't keep you late, will she?”

“Just time for a ceremonial meal. I'll go home with Mum and get something I can wear in the morning. You were brilliant to find this place so close to her.”

“Your father couldn't understand why I wanted it, but it's all I need until we get married and have a place together. I almost told him so by mistake. All these secrets are so silly. When are we having a night out that isn't a secret?”

“I better let Mummy have another evening before I start doing what I want to do. Friday. Is that a gay evening in New York?”

“It will be for us. I'll let Sherman Billingsley know. He's going to roll out the red carpet for you at the Stork.”

“How thrilling.”

“We'll make it a real New York evening. I'll take you to dinner at the Rainbow Room. It's not much of a restaurant — it's more of a show. May be after I've had you here for two nights, I'll be able to take more interest in where we go. Oh, honey, what a joy just to lie here with you.”

“I won't let you lie for long. You have so many points of interest. Climb up here so I can see your cock. I love the way it feels.”