The Good Life (48 page)

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Authors: Gordon Merrick

BOOK: The Good Life
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“Wake up,” Perry said. “Bet's here. She wants to meet you.”

“Who? Here?” Timmy's eyes sprang to life, and he rolled instinctively away from Perry as far as he could get. He pushed himself higher in the bed and tried to recover his party manners. “My goodness. I've been asleep. Excuse me. You must be Bet. This is wonderful.”

“Wake up, baby. She wants to come to bed with us,” Perry explained, hoping Timmy wouldn't be outraged.

“To
bed?
With us?” He pulled the covers up to his chin. “How do you mean? I'm naked.”

“So'm I,” Bet said, laughing. “And
freezing.”

“Well, good heavens. I'd better go into the other—”

“Don't go anywhere,” Bet ordered as she threw herself over Perry and snuggled down into the bed between them. “Ooh. That's better. How lovely.” She smiled winningly at Timmy and in a parody of a grande dame said, “How terribly nice to meet you, Mr. Dillingham, particularly under these delicious circumstances.”

Timmy looked wide-eyed and stuck out his hand automatically. Perry grabbed it and pulled Timmy toward him so that he was practically on top of Bet, who roared with laughter.

“And I'm Perry Langham, Mr. Dillingham, and this is Bettina Vernon, who's been dying to meet you and will probably show you something about girls that you don't know.”

Timmy blushed and stammered, “Are you sure that I—”

Bet reached down under the covers and found both their cocks and squeezed them. She looked wide-eyed at Timmy. “I'm
very
sure,” she said, and they all started laughing. Self-consciousness and any worry that Perry had about this arrangement immediately disappeared.

It was so easy to understand why she was so excited by this sort of sexual freedom. As they discovered each other's bodies, barriers were destroyed. They were all able to open themselves completely to each other.

Unlike Sylvain, Timmy was too sweet and lovingly docile to arouse resentment. Perry knew that Timmy wouldn't take the initiative with Bet, and, as always, Timmy followed his lead. Bet's curiosity about men's bodies was so open and appreciative that Timmy's blushes were soon left in the past. Like children playing, they all looked so young and innocent together that Perry was touched.

“Go ahead. Let him,” Perry murmured to her. “He's never done it with a girl, but he's staying hard for you.”

“It's as big as yours,” she breathed in his ear. “His body is lovely.”

“I thought you'd like it. Go on. Enjoy it.” Why not? He could watch her pleasure without being jealous. It was like watching her enjoy anything that he'd given her. It didn't seem so bad for her to want to experiment when he was instrumental in providing the opportunity. There was nothing to worry about. They were an indestructible pair.

The weekend continued on a hilarious plane. They ran around the apartment with little or nothing on. They enjoyed themselves outrageously. When Timmy left to go back to school, he was starry-eyed with love and gratitude.

“I see what you mean,” Bet said after Timmy had gone. “I'm a little bit in love with him myself.”

Suddenly, it seemed, the war was no longer the “phony war.” It was no longer something that people joked about. It had become the center of everybody's attention. Hitler had moved into action and within weeks had become the master of Europe. The dramatic evacuation of the British forces at Dunkerque, France, had everyone holding their breath. Paris had been declared an open city to save it from being bombed. The idea that the superb city could be scarred made Perry's stomach turn. The thought that England might be invaded was a constant fear. Mussolini — taken for a clown at first — tagged along with Hitler, becoming his active ally.

When France fell, Perry felt as though he'd been personally attacked.

“That seems to be that,” Billy said one evening. “I'd been thinking all along that I might yet get back to France for the summer, but it's time to face reality. I've been offered a house I know in East Hampton for the summer. Do you think you might use it for weekends? You don't know what the city can be like in the heat.”

Perry almost asked Billy if he expected Bet to be there with him. “I've heard a lot about East Hampton,” he said noncommittally. “It sounds great. I'll come whenever I can.”

“Good. The trains aren't too ghastly. I'll have to get a car. Laszlo can drive. I might as well take it. I wonder what's going to happen to the
Belle Époque
now? Once that Italian idiot declared war on France, Captain Mario must have been in trouble. He's probably in the Italian navy — if they have one.”

When Bet called him at the studio the next day, he asked her what her mother was planning for the summer.

“I'd forgotten all about summer,” Bet said. “She's sometimes gone to a place called Kennebunkport, in Maine, but usually she goes to Europe. I'll have to ask her.”

Bet's next call, however, was not about summer plans. “Oh, darling. We're in a mess.”

“What do you mean?” His first thought was that she was pregnant, and that gave him a little thrill of anticipation.

“I mean a real mess. Somebody in the hotel — the room maid, I guess — snitched.”

“Snitched?”

“Yes. Somehow or other it got out that I'm not using the room much. At least not for sleeping.”

“Damn. Arlene knows?”

“Lord yes, and she's called out the National Guard. I'm all but a prisoner.”

“You mean I won't see you tonight?”

“Or any other, the way things look. Oh, darling. What are we going to do? Mummy is in a rage. I've never seen her like this. She's threatening me with all sorts of things. Taking away my allowance…a companion to watch me all the time…
banishment…”

“But why? Just because you haven't used your room all the time? That's no crime. Just explain that you've been staying with a girlfriend. One of those girls you made up that you went to school with.”

“Too late. She knows I'm having an affair.”

“Oh, God.”

“Darling, she had me cornered,” Bet wailed. “I had to admit it. But I didn't say with whom.”

“I'm not suspected?”

“Not yet.” Bet's voice was sounding more normal. “She's watching my every move. Full alert. You know I'm no good at lying, so I've just clammed up. She's going mad trying to figure out who it is.”

“Jesus.” Perry sighed with relief. “We'll just have to be very careful for a while.”

“For a while?” she wailed again. “Do you know what she's going to do? She's shipping me off to California.”

“For God's sake, why? What good will that do?”

“Why? To break up my romance, of course, whomever it's with. She figures that distance will kill it and make me come to my senses and do exactly what she wants me to do.” Perry was speechless. “Are you there, darling? What are we going to do?”

“I don't know. Let me think.” His heart was pounding with rage at Arlene. “How long does she intend to keep you out there?”

“God only knows. She's in such a state, I don't dare ask her. I think at least a month.”

Perry groaned.

“Long enough for me to get over this mysterious man,” she giggled. “Thank heavens she hasn't a glimmer who it is.”

“Are you sure? We'd really be in trouble if she had the slightest—”

“No,” Bet was firm. “That's the one thing I'm sure of. That's why she's going crazy. Really, it's ridiculous. I can't go on being treated like a child. I'm a grown woman with a lover. We're going to have to get married.”

“Naturally, but not while they can still break it up somehow.”

Bet made a growling noise of resignation in her throat. “Oh, you're right. Oh, darling, when are we going to be together in our own place so that we can tell them all to leave us alone?”

“Soon, baby. Soon.”

Perry didn't get to see her before she left the next day. “Let's not risk it,” she'd said sensibly. “I'll be staying with friends of Mummy's in Burlingame — whatever that is — and we will surely be able to talk to each other from time to time. Oh, God, I feel like I'm taking the veil.”

They talked about once a week, and by the third call Perry's spirits rose. It wouldn't be long now. On the fourth call, however, he learned that the sentence had been extended to two months.

“Two
months? Why, for God's sake?”

“Because I still won't tell her who it is.”

“Can't you just make up somebody?”

“I've thought of that. I've thought of everything. What do I do with a made-up lover? How do I get rid of him so she knows it's over? Have him run over by a truck? No, there's no way out. I'm stuck, damn it. And damn her.”

Perry reluctantly picked up his bachelor life, seeing more of Madge and Johnny. He put in longer hours in the studio, studying and experimenting, and even allowed himself to admit that he was getting pretty damned good.

Billy had moved to East Hampton into a charming house set on beautiful grounds, and Perry found his company soothing and reassuring. Their fondness for each other had grown deeper, and their understanding of each other's moods made making conversation unnecessary. They spent long contented weekends together reading and talking about everything except Bet. Billy seemed to know that it was a subject that Perry skirted, but Billy brought it up one day with the news of Bet's return to New York.

“When?” Perry burst out excitedly.

“In a couple of days. Arlene called yesterday. I see that you have missed her.”

“Well, yes. We have fun together, as you know.”

“You are not going to have much fun with her this time around,” Billy said with a shake of his head. “Arlene's taking her right on to Cape Cod.”

Perry's heart sank. Another separation. The whole summer lost. He didn't know how he was going to be able to bear it. Arlene and Bet arrived in New York in the middle of the week, and he had two consoling nights with Bet before she was dragged off again.

“I don't see why your mother won't let you stay with Billy,” Perry groaned. “At least I could come out there and meet you on the beach or something.”

“Like in Saint-Tropez? Wouldn't that be lovely, to do it on a beach again? Like the first time. Remember?”

“It's beginning to feel like a dream that never happened.”

“If Cape Cod is as boring as California, I'll kill myself,” Bet declared.

“New York hasn't exactly been a laugh a minute without you. Oh, baby, how much more of this are we going to have to take?”

“Not much. I'm going along with this one last little jaunt — I'm just a lamb being led to slaughter, for God's sake — and then—”

“And then what?”

Bet's eyes narrowed. “Instead of myself, why don't I kill her?”

“I'll help.” They dissolved into hysterical laughter and held onto each other's naked bodies with a painful urgency.

The summer had slowed everything down, even Billy. He had complained about the heat. Even in East Hampton the humidity was bad.

“Dearest boy, I swear it's too hot to even enjoy a drink.”

“I've noticed that your ‘fresheners' are getting few and far between.”

“It must be the heat. It's put me off. Made my stomach a bit odd.”

That was the first mention of trouble — trouble that became worse as the summer wore on.

When Perry asked Laszlo what he thought the matter was with Billy, he replied, “I don't know. He's just not himself. I can't help wondering if he isn't sick.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“Listen, when Billy stops drinking, there's something seriously wrong. It's rather like hell freezing over. Frankly, I'm worried.”

At Perry's insistence, Billy went back to the city with him one Monday to see his doctor. Laszlo drove them in a big Chrysler through the lovely countryside, with the trees already changing colors.

“It looks like summer is over, but it certainly doesn't feel like it,” Billy commented. “It's still stifling.”

As they drove along, Perry tried to conjure up memories of their drives in the south of France, but the trees and rolling green country blotted out the image of red earth and pine trees next to a sparkling sea that was so vivid in his memory. This was now. This was New York. That was then — was it only last year? — and he wondered if he'd ever get back there again.

“Yes, it's muggy,” Perry muttered.
And interminable
, he thought. Without Bet, this summer had been one of endless waiting. The sight of her would bring him back the south of France. Was she becoming as unreal as that long-ago last summer?

After a long session with his doctor, Billy was admitted into the hospital for a few days of observation and tests.

“How do you feel?” Perry asked Billy when he had returned to the 66th Street duplex.

“Quite all right. Of course, they tell me I drink too much, but there's nothing wrong with my liver. There's nothing wrong with anything. I have those funny pains, but they've given me some medicine that seems to take care of that. I'll have a drink with you to celebrate. In my day they would've called it a tummy ache and given me a dose of castor oil. Now they put incomprehensible names on everything. Let's not talk about it again. Too tiresome. Have you seen Bet?”

“I've talked to her.”
Mostly in bed
, he wanted to add. The interminable wait had been cut off while Billy was in the hospital, and Perry and Bet had resumed their clandestine life as before. The hiding was becoming more and more intolerable, but they both had to agree that anything was better than separation. “She said she'd seen you,” Perry said. “She's glad to be back.”

“I'm sure she is,” Billy replied. “Arlene is such an extremist. Very wearing. It's so silly to get into a state about Bet's having an affair. If her young friends are having affairs, she'll have affairs too.”

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