1944 - Just the Way It Is (7 page)

Peter took one quick look at her tired, unhappy face and he waved the waiter away. ‘Okay, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Let’s eat. I know how you feel.’

‘Do you?’ Clare said, sharply. ‘I don’t think you do, Peter.’

He put his knife and fork down and stared at her. ‘What’s the matter, Clare?’ he said. ‘Have I annoyed you?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Peter, I’m tired and I just don’t feel like all this. I’m sorry I’m such a bore.’ She looked as if she were going to cry.

‘But Clare. . .’ he began.

Her mouth twitched suddenly, then she jumped up and went quickly out of the restaurant.

Peter was so astonished that he sat gaping after her, unconscious of the curious looks that came from all parts of the room.

The waiter was at his elbow with the check. ‘Something wrong with the dinner?’ he asked in an injured voice.

Peter became aware of the people staring and the waiter. ‘Here, let me get out of this,’ he said, shoving some money into the waiter’s hand. ‘I guess my friend isn’t well.’

He went out and stood looking up and down the street, completely bewildered.

The commissionaire touched his cap. ‘Your car’s over the way, sir,’ he said. ‘The lady’s just gone over.’

Peter gave him some small change and then crossed the street.

He found Clare curled up in the far seat, crying. He stood hesitating, feeling that he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but scared that he might make things worse. He lit a cigarette and stood near the car, feeling low.

‘It’s all right, Peter,’ Clare said, trying to steady her voice. ‘What’s the matter, darling?’ He opened the car door and got in beside her.

‘I feel so low I don’t know what to do.’

‘You’re tired. I’ll take you home. A good sleep’s what you want.’ He wanted to put his arm round her, but he still wasn’t sure.

She held her handkerchief to her eyes and shook her head. ‘Let’s drive somewhere, Peter,’ she said. ‘I want to feel the air on my face. It’s so hot. Let the windscreen down, will you?’

He fixed the windscreen and started the engine. ‘Where shall we go?’ he said.

‘Oh, I don’t care - anywhere.’

He couldn’t understand why she was like this, but he turned the car and began to drive towards Fairview. She didn’t say anything for a long time. She had stopped crying and she sat away from him with the hot wind in her hair, staring at the dancing pools of light from the headlamps.

Peter had never seen her in a mood like this before. It made him uneasy. Usually, she was so self-possessed and confident.

‘I’m sorry about tonight, Peter,’ she said, suddenly. ‘It’s just that I’m nervy and the heat. Do you mind most awfully?’

‘That’s all right,’ he said, dropping one hand from the wheel and squeezing hers gently. There was an answering pressure. ‘I get low myself sometimes. Only, it’s not a bit like you, is it?’

‘I’m afraid it is,’ she said, ‘only this is the first time I’ve let myself go in public. I suppose I’m not right yet after my illness.’

‘You work too hard.’ He eased up on the accelerator and pressed on the brake. The car stopped by the side of the road. He turned in his seat. ‘Listen, Clare, why don’t you do the sensible thing? Give all this up and let’s get married.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her. She didn’t resist, but her lips were cold and impersonal and his kiss didn’t mean a thing. ‘Darling, I do love you so,’ he said, stroking her hair. ‘Can’t you make up your mind? I’ll make you happy. I’ll do anything for you.’

She pushed him gently away. ‘It’s no good, Peter,’ she said, ‘I’m not in the mood tonight. Will you go on?’

‘What do you mean?’ he demanded, making no effort to stem his rising anger. ‘In the mood? I’m not flirting with you, Clare. I’m asking you to marry me. You don’t have to be in the mood for that. You either love me or you don’t.’

She suddenly put her hands on his arms and gripped his muscles tightly. Her strong fingers hurt.

‘Please don’t, Peter,’ she said, in a desperate sort of way. ‘I couldn’t bear to quarrel with you. You don’t understand. You don’t know how unsure I am.’

He still felt a flicker of anger and he took her hands away. ‘I can’t go on like this,’ he said, stubbornly. ‘I’ve been waiting and waiting and I never seem to get anywhere. You either love me or you don’t. If you don’t, then perhaps we’d better not meet anymore.’

‘Of course, I love you,’ Clare said. ‘I think you’re a kind, lovely person and please don’t talk about not meeting anymore.’

‘Then if you love me, why can’t we be married?’ he persisted, frowning at her.

‘Don’t look like that, Peter. In another minute we’ll be strangers.’ She slid into his arms and held him tightly. ‘Oh, Peter, I do love you, but don’t rush me. I’m so unsound. I don’t know where I am going and I don’t ever want to hurt you. Don’t you see? It’s because I don’t ever want to hurt you that I hesitate.’

They held each other for a long time. Distant houses were now black silhouettes as the lights were turned out and the people went to bed.

He said at last, ‘All right, Clare, we won’t talk about it for a while. I’m not going to worry you. I wish we could go away together. I wish we could take this old car and a couple of suitcases and go south for a month. It’d do you good.’

She twisted in the seat, so that her shoulder and head were against him. ‘Perhaps one day,’ she said. ‘It would be fun, wouldn’t it?’ There was a pause, and then she said, ‘Tell me about Harry Duke. How long have you known him?’

The thought entered his head that Harry Duke meant something to her. He remembered how quiet she had been when they first met. He remembered her embarrassment when he had teased her about the telephone number. He remembered her disappointment when she saw that Harry had gone away. And remembering all these little points and knowing the strength of Harry Duke, his heart sank suddenly.

When he came to think of it, he could see Clare with Harry. They’d look right. They were both determined, both good at their jobs, both ambitious.

He said, ‘You liked Harry, didn’t you?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said guardedly. ‘I hardly spoke to him.’

‘Are you glad you met him?’

‘Well, he is a little unusual, isn’t he? But, I suppose he knows lots of girls.’

Peter took out his cigarette case and lit a cigarette miserably. ‘He doesn’t have a regular,’ he said, trying to be casual. ‘Girls fall for him all right. Sometimes he takes them up, sometimes he doesn’t. But if he does, he drops them again after a while. I’m sorry for the girl who falls for Harry.’

There was a long silence, then Clare patted his hand, ‘You think I might be one of those girls, don’t you, Peter?’

‘Why, of course not,’ Peter said, feeling blood mounting to his face. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

She laughed quietly. ‘Oh, I know you better than you know yourself,’ she returned. ‘But, you don’t have to worry. Harry Duke wouldn’t do for me and I wouldn’t do for Harry Duke. You see, Peter, I’ve lived too long among men like that. Newspapermen, gamblers and businessmen. I’m so sick of their hardness. I’m so tired of their eternal quest for money, their willingness to sacrifice everything to get what they want. One time, I could have fallen for Harry Duke, but not now. I’m like Fairview. All I want is to be left alone to stagnate in the little happiness that’s left to me.’

Peter pulled her closer to him. ‘But you don’t know Harry,’ he said. ‘He’s not like that. He’d be swell to you as he’s been swell to me. Oh, I know he’s tough and hard and wild, but not when he’s fond of someone. He’s not like that then.’

‘Are you afraid he’d take me away?’ Clare looked up at him and smiled, but her eyes were worried.

‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out,’ Peter said. ‘I’ll know if he’s interested in you or not.’

She gave a little shiver. ‘Let’s go home now, Peter. Will you forgive me for spoiling your evening?’

‘You haven’t.’ He started the engine. ‘You’ve made me happy. Haven’t you told me that you love me?’

‘You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do. I’m beginning to think you’re a bit of a problem for all that.’

‘Do you mind?’

‘No, I suppose not. Life would be very dull if I could get everything I wanted. But I want you, darling, when you feel less low, I’m going to begin a siege. Now I know how you feel about me, I’m going to pester you until you do marry me.’

When they reached Clare’s little bungalow, Peter switched off the engine and looked down at her. ‘Well, here we are. What shall I do - walk home or bring the car over tomorrow night?’

‘You’d better come in, Peter.’ There was something in her voice that suddenly stirred his blood.

‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a full day tomorrow. I’ll get back, I think.’

‘I mean you needn’t go back tonight,’ she said, in a small voice.

He put his hand on hers. ‘You don’t really mean that, do you?’ he said, feeling his heart beating unevenly.

‘Of course,’ she slid her arms round him, ‘I can’t give you much, Peter, and you’ve been so patient.’

Just for a brief second, it had sounded so marvellous, then when she said about being patient it all dissolved into ashes.

He shook his head. ‘No, Clare,’ he said, ‘go in and get yourself some sleep. You’re a darling and I love you, but I’m waiting.’

She slid quickly out of the car. ‘Good night, Peter,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to make things difficult. You’re right, of course. I think you’re always right, my dear.’

She ran up. the little path and disappeared into the shadow of the house. He heard her open the door and then close it sharply behind her.

EIGHT

W
ithout taking his eyes off Schultz, Harry Duke slid into the room. He put his hand behind him and pushed down the window and adjusted the blind.

Schultz seemed paralysed. He knelt there, his knee still pinning Lorelli flat on the floor, and slack rope still in his thick fingers. Only his eyes were alive and they regarded Duke murderously.

Duke had opened his coat so that Schultz could see the leather gun holster that was strapped under his arm. He was careful not to take his eyes off Schultz. He knew that the fat man could move very quickly when he wanted to.

‘I hope I ain’t in the way,’ he said, leaning against the wall. ‘Anyone but me would think you were going to kill that girl.’

Schultz still knelt there blinking at him without saying anything.

Duke said softly, ‘Get away from her, will you?’

Schultz suddenly expelled a little hiss of breath through his teeth and let the rope slip out of his fingers. He stood up slowly and passed his hand over his fat, sweating face. ‘Hello, Harry,’ he said, in a strangled voice. ‘You quite startled me.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Duke returned, still watching him closely. ‘The next time I’ll give you a ring and let you know I’m coming.’

Schultz waddled unsteadily across the room and refilled his glass. He drank the whisky greedily, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then sank down slowly in his armchair. He sat looking at Duke, his hands shaking and his saucer-like eyes blinking.

Duke moved farther into the room. ‘Look, Paul,’ he said. ‘Don’t do anything dumb. I mean, don’t try and pull a gun or start anything. I’ve had more practice than you and it wouldn’t mean a great deal if I killed you.’

Schultz’s face grimaced into a lopsided grin. ‘I ain’t tired of life yet,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t start anything.’

‘Just thought I’d tell you,’ Duke said. ‘You were being dumb just now,’ and he looked down at Lorelli. ‘You were being very dumb. What did she do to annoy you?’

The fat man shifted his eyes and said nothing.

Lorelli gave a little sigh and moved uneasily.

‘Maybe I’d better take that necktie off before she wakes up,’ Duke said, kneeling down beside her. ‘It’d be a shock for her if she found she had so nearly handed in her pail.’

‘I wasn’t going to kill her,’ Schultz said, hastily, ‘I just wanted to scare her.’

‘You’re a thorough sort of guy, Paul. Nice ideas you’ve got locked up in that skull of yours.’ Duke gently levered the noose loose from Lorelli’s neck and then slipped it over her head. He worked with his left hand only. His right hand rested on his knee.

He tossed the rope across the room and then turned Lorelli gently over on her back. As he was doing this, Schultz’s hand suddenly jerked behind him. His heavy automatic was halfway from his hip pocket when he found himself staring down the barrel of a .38 which Duke produced from nowhere.

‘More practice, Paul,’ Harry Duke said, evenly. ‘Take your hand from behind you very slowly and drop that gun.’

Schultz snarled at him, but the automatic fell on the floor with a little thud.

‘Kick it over here,’ Duke went on, ‘I’ve a good mind to smack you for that, Paul. What’s the matter with you? Gone crazy or are you just tired of life?’

He picked up Schultz’s automatic as it slid over to him and put it in his pocket.

Schultz suddenly relaxed in his chair with a little shrug. ‘It’s a pity you interfered Harry,’ he said. ‘You’re going to upset a lot of people and in the end you’ll be sorry. You’ve only won the first round. There’s a lot of rounds left.’

Duke was looking down at Lorelli curiously. ‘Now, where have I seen her before?’ he asked. ‘Quite a looker, ain’t she? Well, I’m glad I came along when I did. You shouldn’t waste women like this, Paul. There are other guys who could do with ‘em, you know.’

Lorelli gave a little whimper, opened her eyes and put her hand to the back of her neck with a grimace of pain. Then she saw Harry Duke and she sat up on her elbow, her smoky, black eyes opened wide.

‘Take it easy,’ Duke said. ‘We’re all friends together and there’s nothing to be scared about.’

Lorelli looked from him to Schultz and her eyes snapped furiously. She got unsteadily to her feet, holding her bruised forehead. Then she began calling Schultz names. The range of her language shocked Duke.

He said, ‘Don’t get your suspenders in a knot, sister. Paul only meant to scare you. He told me so.’

‘If I had a gun, I’d make a hole in the fat swab,’ Lorelli screamed. ‘He threw a glass at me. He never gave me a chance.’ She ran over to Schultz and stood over him. ‘You’ll pay for this. You’ll be sorry you started something with me, you this and that and so and so.’