The Whiskey Tide (31 page)

     
Rupert Cass whizzed past her. Woody's lower lip crept out.

     
"I'll bet he never comes back. He does cheat, Kate, and I don't really like him much, but he's the only friend I have. I wish I went to school like other kids. That's what I wish!"

     
The visiting ladies were getting into their automobiles by the time Kate descended the stairs.
 
"Mama, Woody needs to go to school so he can be with other children," she announced shortly. "He's desperately lonely. We could get Billy or someone to help get him in and out of the car, and Aggie and I could take turns driving him."

     
"Don't be ridiculous." Her mother's voice sounded strained. "Do you want him exposed to every cold and case of measles that comes along? He isn't strong enough to shake it off like you and your sisters did."

     
"He won't
get
strong enough if we keep treating him like a hothouse plant, either!"

     
"How dare you tell me what to do!"

     
Her mother turned on her heel.

     
"She didn't need you at her too," chided Rosalie. "She's beside herself trying to find some sort of work, even answering advertisements from the newspaper. Just before Rupert came down saying he had a stomachache, she'd asked those women she’s known forever if they'd make inquiries for her. Beastly Mrs. Forsythe told her the only sensible thing for a woman in her position to do was to find a new husband!"

     
Kate was too upset over Woody to feel the indignation she knew she ought to feel for her mother. She went into the back parlor and stood staring out the window at the bare old wood of the lilac bushes. Was Woody doomed to grow up a sissy and a perpetual invalid, loved too much by all of them for his own good? She stood, unaware of time, until Peg called them to lunch. They were just sitting down when Aggie burst in.

     
"Guess what?" Aggie bubbled sliding into her chair. "I have a job! Three afternoons a week in a dress shop. They're paying me twenty-five cents an hour, and all I have to do is fetch things for customers and look stylish myself. And if I want to buy anything, I get a discount. Isn't it the berries?"

     
"How nice," said Rosalie, too discomfited to look at their mother.

     
"Yes. Lovely." Mama's face was pale.

     
"And flatter the old girls into imagining they can look as good as you do if they only have the right dress?" Kate teased.

     
"Yes, I believe that's part of the plan."

     
Woody was glaring at his vegetable soup and toasted cheese sandwich.

     
"Woody, whyever the long face?" Mama asked, noticing.

     
"I hate being sick!" he exploded. "I hate stupid Rupert being my only friend! I'm going to clean my plate and I'm going to get muscles like Mr. Santayna showed me. Then I'm going to punch Rupert!"

     
"Woody!"

     
"He said Santa won't bring us anything for Christmas this year because we're too poor."

     
Mama's spoon cracked down on the china plate.

     
"That little
vermin!"

***

     
"You ought to have more clothes. More dresses. Show yourself off more." Felix lighted a cigarette. "I like heads to turn when you're with me."

     
"I haven't had time to look at clothes," Aggie lied nervously. "I started a job last week."

     
For nine days she hadn't heard from him. She'd hardly been able to eat. Then he'd called as if nothing had happened.

     
"What kind of job?"

     
"In a dress shop." Feeling smart now, and more sure of herself, she gave details.

     
He laughed. "For a quarter an hour? I could get you a hat check job that paid better than that. You've got the legs. But why, with all that booze money rolling in?"

     
"My father made some bad investments."

     
"Let them slide. Only chumps use fistfuls of money to pay off debts. Use it to make more."

     
Her pleasure in her job was trickling away. The way Felix's gaze was wandering made her feel worse. She watched it linger approvingly on a platinum blonde. Was he losing interest? He was restless tonight. She could feel it.

     
"I wouldn't like being a welsher," Aggie said with a toss of her head. "They're weak and despicable."

     
"Are you saying I'm weak?"

     
"You wouldn't borrow in the first place."

     
But Felix had his attention fixed on the door now. He stood abruptly and began to melt away between the tables.

     
"Felix? Felix, where are you going?"

     
The gents' lavatory was in the other direction. He didn't even look back. Most times when they were out he left her alone a few minutes, but he always consulted his watch first or someone came for him; she knew it was business. This felt different.

     
As she stared after him, hurt and puzzled, a whistle shrilled. Aggie gasped and turned. Policemen streamed in the front door. Men were looking panic stricken. Girls started to shriek. Once before Aggie had almost been caught in a speakeasy raid, but she'd been with Peeley and they'd wiggled out the back door. She tried the same maneuver now, shouldering through other frantically moving bodies that were pressed together like a wall. Her eyes were on the spot where she'd last seen Felix. If she could get there, she'd be okay. She could find a way out.

     
"You're all under arrest," a voice boomed through a bull horn. "Everybody stay where you are."

     
A hand closed around Aggie's wrist like a handcuff.

     
"You too, missy. We're going downtown."

Twenty-three

     
Two of the women in the cell with Aggie were drunk. One had vomited and now slept in the stench of it. The other, reeking of gin, snored happily. In the bottom bunk a prostitute with dirty hair sneered at Aggie, who stood huddled against the iron bars in the gray, cold dawn.

     
"He ain't comin' for you," the prostitute taunted. "You're gonna be stuck in here like us working girls."

     
Aggie tried to ignore her. She felt soiled and frightened. Two other girls caught in the raid had been in the cell, but had been bailed out by their families before the night was half over. She'd thought Felix might send someone for her, but he hadn't.

     
At half-past five she'd told the jailer she wanted to make the telephone call she'd been promised. She'd called Pierce, Theo's chauffeur, who lived above the garage and had his own phone. If he didn't rouse Theo, she wasn't sure what she would do. Kate had sailed for Saint John this morning. If she tried to reach Rosalie she might get Mama instead.

     
"I know one hoity-toity girl like you got tossed out by her family when she got arrested," the prostitute said. "Works the street now, like me."

     
Aggie's head ached and she was shivering in her yellow silk dress. She couldn't bring herself to wrap up in the thin blanket from her cot. She was too afraid of the things it might harbor. Gripping the bars of the cell she stared at the distant door through which deliverance might come and felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She had never felt so alone in her life.

     
The door at the end of the hall clattered open.

     
"Whirly... Whirly-something-or-other?" snapped a jailer checking a list in his hand. He came toward the cell. Eyed her. "That's you, I bet. Have a good time with us, did you, Little Miss Flapper?"

     
Keys clanked against metal. He swung the door open.

     
"Ain't it great what money does?" sniffed the prostitute.

     
Theo stood in an anteroom in front of a wooden counter. His fine hair lay smoothly against his head and he was impeccably dressed in spite of the hour. Worry loosened its hold on his features as he caught sight of her.

     
"You have the most extraordinary adventures." He kept his words nonchalant as her arms flew around him. He felt solid and safe in his gray overcoat. "Are you all right, Agatha Ann?"

     
"Of course." Aggie made the effort of tossing her hair back and giving a bright smile. She didn't want lectures, nor did she want to admit how frightened she'd been. "Parts of it were rather a lark, actually. But I'm ever so glad to be out. Thanks awfully. And I am sorry I got you up so early."

     
The arm not required for his cane gave a welcome hug. "That's what cousins are for. I'm afraid Pierce had a devil of a time waking me. Oh, well. All's well that ends without broken bones."

     
They both chuckled at the swaggering motto he'd coined in their youth.

     
"Come on," he said guiding her toward the door. "Let's get out of this place. There's a little cafe around the corner. Let's get something to eat."

     
"I'm not hungry."

     
"Coffee then. You look terrible."

     
"You're not supposed to say things like that to ladies."

     
"Ladies don't get arrested."

     
Aggie gave him a quick look, but Theo was smiling. He stopped at the car and took out one of the heavy white dusters used for protecting passengers' clothes.

     
"Put this over your dress. You look a bit gaudy for daytime. You're shivering, too."

     
Aggie nodded miserably and buttoned the duster. Now that she was safe she felt humiliated and stupid and unable to face her family yet; unable to face anyone, even Theo. His non-judgmental goodness was like a warm fire. They walked half a block through air that overnight held the threat of winter.

     
The cafe they turned into was deeper than it was wide, with booths along one wall and a long counter down the center. Grills sizzled with bacon and eggs and huge containers dispensed steaming coffee. Few of the customers wore suits. They slid into a just vacated booth and waited while a waitress cleared dishes.

     
"Order pancakes," Theo urged. "They always made you feel better when you scraped your knee. This isn't much different."

     
Aggie fought the moisture blurring at the corner of her eyes. Theo slid her a paper napkin.

     
"Oh, Theo. I feel such an idiot. I know it's my own fault. I do run around a lot."

     
"It's hard to live up to Kate."

     
His words startled her. She eyed him uncertainly.

     
Theo's smile twisted. "She's a paragon. Smart. Capable. Certain of what she wants out of life. I feel nothing short of inferior next to her. I shouldn't like to be her sister."