Valley of the Dolls (21 page)

“Anne, I know you had something to do with it,” Neely gasped when Anne went back to congratulate her. “Helen told me about it today. Oh, Anne, I love you so much. You’re really like a sister. Oh . . . this is Mel.”

Anne turned toward the young man who had been standing in a corner trying to look inconspicuous. He darted forward, shook hands and receded back against the wall. He was tall, too thin, and his alert dark eyes were fixed on Neely with naked adoration. His warmth hit Anne right away, and she was suddenly very glad for Neely.

“Wasn’t she sensational?” Mel said proudly.

“Just wonderful,” Anne said warmly.

“And next Monday in Philly I get the ballad back and the love scene,” Neely burbled. “And Helen Lawson said she’ll see to it I get a new set of costumes for New York. She thinks Terry’s costumes are too sophisticated for me.”

Helen was enthusiastic about Neely. “Wasn’t your girl friend just great!” she shouted when Anne stopped by her room.

Anne was surprised. Neely had been adequate, but Helen’s enthusiasm was way overboard. “She made that whore look sick,” Helen continued. “Neely’s just what the part calls for—a nice, innocent kid. You watch, when she sings the torch song on Monday, it’ll really hit home. An innocent-looking kid, torching, gets to them.”

Anne started for the door.

“Hey, where the hell you rushing to?” Helen demanded.

“Lyon Burke is waiting downstairs.”

Helen looked at her peculiarly. “Listen, I saw you holding hands at that party last night. If you want to ball it up in New Haven, okay. But just remember, that hunk of ice on your finger is the real thing.”

“I’m giving it back.”

“Whaaat?”
Helen shouted. “Listen, Annie—for God’s sake don’t go taking a one-night stand seriously.” Anne turned away. Helen softened immediately. “Look, angel . . . you’re young. I know how it is, and Lyon is a real hunk of man. Have a ball, you only live once. But don’t give up Allen for a quickie romance.”

Anne smiled weakly and started for the door.

“You going back to New York now?” Helen asked.

“I think so.”

“We’re going to Philly tomorrow morning and rehearse. Put back the ballad, tighten a few things up. I think by Monday night we’ll have a real slick show. And your girl friend will have herself a good part. I already told Gil Case not to look for anyone else for New York. I’m satisfied with Neely.”

“Good luck on Monday,” Anne said lamely.

“I’ll see you then, when you come with Gino and Allen. Remember, we have a big date after the show.”

Allen! The opening! Gino!

“See you then,” Helen called gaily.

Lyon was waiting outside. “Paid all your duty calls?”

She nodded. He slipped her arm under his. “I’ve gotten us a pass,” he said. “We can take the next train back. I was afraid we might have to stick around, but Henry is remaining. He’ll go on to Philadelphia and we’ll meet him there on Monday.”

She felt a sudden surge of exuberance at Lyon’s easy assumption that she was quite naturally “with him” from now on. But her spirits sank again at the thought of facing the inevitable with Allen. For the first time in her life she understood the value of a “Dear John” letter. How simple it would be if she could just drop him a note and say:
Dear Allen, Enclosed find ten-karat diamond ring. I think you’re awfully nice but I’m in love with someone else. It happened during our long separation of forty-eight hours.

They had dinner on the train and without discussion went directly to Lyon’s apartment. She felt a slight shudder when she entered. The apartment seemed almost familiar to her.

As if reading her thoughts, Lyon said, “This really is your apartment. I’ve always thought of it that way.”

“You mean you actually thought of me . . . before . . .”

He took her in his arms. “Anne, do you think I suddenly saw you for the first time in New Haven?”

“1 don’t know . . . it never occurred to me that you were ever aware of me.”

“Well, I can’t seem to recall you leering at me, either,” he said.

“I think I loved you all along,” she said. “I just wouldn’t admit it. Not even to myself.”

“Think of all the wasted time . . .”

“It’s your fault. After all, what is a girl supposed to do? She can’t walk up to a man and say, ’By the way, even though we’ve just met, I think you’re the man I’ve been waiting for.’”

“I think it’s a marvelous idea. Believe me, the first girl who does that sort of thing will certainly make an impression. Especially if she looks like you. Now you settle down on the couch and I’ll fix us a drink. I’m going to give you a light Scotch. It will help you relax.”

“Do I seem jittery?”

He handed her the drink. “Not a bit. But you must be feeling some nerves. Everything is so new . . . I’m new . . . sex is new . . .” He sat beside her and stroked her hair gently.

She snuggled against him. “I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt to anyone in my life. I want to know everything about you . . . I don’t want us to have any secrets. We’re one, Lyon, part of one another. I belong to you.”

He moved away and sipped his drink thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can measure up to that kind of love, Anne. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t hurt me, Lyon. You’ve given me so much already. If nothing more ever happened after today, I’d still be grateful for the two most wonderful days of my life.”

He smiled gently. Then he took her hand and patted the finger with the large ring. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

“That’s over. I’m returning the ring.”

“Anne . . . the way I feel about you . . . it’s very real. I want you to know that. But I’ve given all I might ever be able to give you. I—”

“And it’s enough! It’s all I want—your love. I don’t love Allen. I never have. I never really intended to marry him. It just happened so fast and I was carried along. But even if you hadn’t happened, I could never have gone through with it.”

“I’d like to believe you, Anne. My conscience would be easier.”

“Your conscience? Lyon, don’t you love me?”

He looked into space as if searching for an answer. He saw the quick tears spring to her eyes. “Anne!” He grabbed her shoulders. “Yes, yes, I do love you. I love you and want you. But your kind of love frightens me—and I wonder if my love will be enough for you.”

She closed her eyes in relief. “Oh, Lyon, you scared me. Of course you can’t love me like I love you. I don’t expect it. No one could love anyone that much.” She looked at him closely. “Just love me, that’s all I ask. Love me as much as you can. And let me love you.”

She woke up in his arms the following day. She lay there, not moving, looking at his strong profile. He was beautiful in sleep. Sex had been painful again, but she had reveled in the satisfaction she had given him. And for the first time she felt she belonged to someone. All the things she had never even discussed with girls—things that seemed too personal to talk about, even with Neely, she had talked about openly and freely with Lyon. The rhythm system, all the precautions . . .

She eased herself out of his arms and went into the kitchen. She had coffee going and eggs in a pan before she looked at a clock. It was after noon.

He was awake when she placed the eggs on the table. He praised her cooking—the eggs were perfect, the coffee a work of art. After breakfast he settled down with the
Times
while she showered.

He looked up in surprise when she appeared, fully dressed, her coat on her arm.

“Walking out on me?” He pulled her down on the couch. “You are the most fleeting romance I’ve ever had.” He kissed her neck, and she felt herself go limp. She forced herself to pull away.

“Lyon, I can’t go to the office tomorrow in the same clothes. I need a change of stockings . . . underwear . . . I’ve got to get home.”

He looked at his watch. “Fair enough. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll have dinner. And be prepared to go to the office from here.”

She kissed him gratefully. She had been momentarily frightened that he wouldn’t ask her to return. She took the luxury of grabbing a cab; it was already three o’clock, and she had so much to do before seven.

The moment she walked into her room, the world closed in on her. There was a large vase of flowers on the bureau. The card was from Allen.
Hope you missed me like I missed you. Call me the second you get in. I love you. Allen.

Until Friday, this room had known another life. Now she felt like a stranger. She had shed the room like she had shed Lawrenceville. She looked at the roses. It couldn’t be put off; she was going to Philadelphia tomorrow with Lyon, and Allen expected to go—and Gino!

She dialed Allen, but stopped halfway and hung up. Maybe she could send a wire. But she had to return the ring. It hung lifelessly and heavily on one side of her finger.

She dialed again. He answered on the second ring. “Well, how was New Haven and your girl friend, Old Ironsides?”

“The show is a hit.”

“I know. Gino ran into some people at Morocco last night who had been to New Haven.”

“How was Morocco?”

“I wasn’t there. Remember me? I’m an engaged man. I sat home both nights with a good book, waiting for my girl to get back.”

“Allen . . . Allen, I’ve got something to tell you.” She rushed on, knowing it had to come in a burst or she’d lose her nerve. “Allen, I’m not your girl and I’m not engaged to you and I want to give back the ring.”

There was a long silence. Then he said, “Anne, I’ll be right over.”

“No, Allen . . . I’ll meet you somewhere . . . I’ll give you back the ring.”

“I don’t want the ring. I want to talk to you.”

“But there’s nothing to talk about.”

“There isn’t? Good God, Anne, for three months I’ve been in love with you. Now you want to wash the whole thing up with a phone call. What happened? Did someone talk against me in New Haven? Look, I’ve done a lot of crazy things in the past. Sometimes I wasn’t a very nice guy—but that was before I met you. You can’t hold anything I did then against me now. Nothing meant anything until you came along. Someone’s scared you off me and I’m going to see you and find out. I won’t give up just like this. I have a right to present my side.”

“Allen, no one spoke against you in New Haven. And talking to me won’t change things.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“Allen, don’t come!” She shrieked it. “I’m in love!”

This time the silence was even longer. Finally she said hesitantly, “Allen? Do you understand?”

“Who is he?”

“Lyon Burke.”

His laugh was unpleasant. “You mean the homeless cockney who’s in my old apartment? Well . . . glad to have provided you with a decent honeymoon cottage.”

“Allen, it just
happened.”

“Sure, just like that. And it just happened you fell out of love with me.”

“I never told you I loved you. Remember that. You were the one who insisted on being engaged.”

“Okay, Anne. Good luck.”

“How do I get the ring back to you?”

“I’m not worried about it. Why are you?”

“But I want you to have it back.”

“You mean Lyon Burke gets offended seeing it on your finger. Or has he already replaced it? From what I’ve heard about him, the only ring you’ll get is one through your nose.”

“Allen, let’s not part this way.”

“What do you want? Shall I send you a singing telegram? Boy, this is really the prize. The first time in my life I treat a girl on the level and I get it in the end! But I’ll see you around. With Lyon Burke it will be a long, long walk to the altar.”

“Please, Allen . . . may I see you at lunch tomorrow and return the ring?”

“No, my little iceberg, keep it.”

“What?”

“Keep it! You bitch . . . I don’t need the ring. I can buy a lot of them. But you’re going to need it. It’s very hockable. Or better yet, wear it! Let it cut into your finger every time some guy screws you like you’ve screwed me. I have a hunch Lyon Burke will be the first!” The receiver slammed in her ear.

She dialed him back immediately. “Allen, I know you’re furious at me—and the things you’ve said, you’ve said in anger. I want us to remain friends.”

“I like men for friends,” he said coldly.

“All right, but I can’t keep the ring.”

“If that’s what you called about, forget it!”

“Allen, wait!” She knew he was going to hang up. “I want to remind you about Gino. He promised to go to Philadelphia tomorrow.”

“You mean that’s still on with us?” There was a sudden tinge of hope in his voice.

“Well, not with
us.
I can’t go with you now. But there’s no reason for Gino not to go. Helen is expecting him.”

“Oh, no! You must be kidding!” His laugh was almost a groan.

“Why? Helen’s reserved a room for him. He operates independently of you. I see no reason for Helen to be disappointed because of us.”

“You don’t? Well, now I’ve heard everything. Do you think Gino wanted to go? Do you think it’s a thrill for him to wrestle with Old Ironsides?”

“Stop calling Helen that! She’s darned attractive, and your father should be thrilled that she wants to be with him. She’s a big star and—”

“And a big brassy bore! My father can have any girl in town. This is a man’s world—women only own it when they’re very young. You’ll find that out some fine day. And your Helen Lawson may be the biggest star on Broadway, but she’s still a bloated, loud-mouthed broad the moment she steps off stage. Sure, he was coming tomorrow . . . and don’t think he didn’t try and get out of it. But I forced him. Isn’t that a laugh? I made him do it for you. And I spent all weekend trying to figure out how to keep him there overnight. He agreed to come but swore he was driving back right after the show. I finally said it would be like a wedding present to me if he’d give in to Helen, just for the night. Can you imagine that? A guy compromising his own father just to please his girl! All weekend I’ve been working on Gino. And all weekend you’ve been . . .” He stopped; his voice had almost broken. “Well, at least one good thing has come out of it. Gino is spared. And now I’m tossing the ball to you—and to Lyon Burke. Let
his
father hump your girl friend!” The receiver clicked.