Naxos came in, Flip holding his hand.
'Her,' said Grierson. 'Divine Zenocrate over there. She doesn't seem to like you, Craig.'
Craig thought of the acid.
I'll watch her,' he said. 'You watch him.'*
He nodded to where Lord Byron-Swyven limped over in character and bowed to his host and hostess.
'You have all the fun,' said Grierson.
Craig went over, talked to Naxos and Flip, and asked about Pia.
'Oh, she'll be along,' said Flip. 'You know shell be dressed as my twin sister—The poor darling! When she saw me she wanted to wear something else—but I said no. Houris never come in ones, do they, darling?'
'Anything you say, honey,' said Naxos. 'Some party, eh, John?'
'Fantastic,' said Craig. 'Tou forgot to give me a program for the fun and games upstairs.'
'The happenings,' Fhp said. 'We
Now.'
'No,' said Craig. 'You go up with me—both together.'
'We can't go yet anyway,' Naxos said. 'We've got to get this lot under way.' He nodded at an advancing crowd of guests. 'We'll do as you say, John. Meet us here—two o'clock.'
Craig nodded and went up the stairs to the balcony. There were fifty people in the room already, and the soft sheen of Flip's half-naked body was vulnerable to them aU. Among them he could see a courtier in crimson velvet, talking to a heutenant in the Navy of His Britannic Majesty, George III. He walked through the rooms filled with actors and dancers, half-heartedly flirting, dancing gavottes, exchanging snuff, tapping each other with their fans while Trottia twittered and fluttered in the midst. The two swordsmen were arranging their fight like a ballet, and talking about football. Only the harpsichord player seemed to be absorbed. He was playing a Bach fugue. 'No, no,' Trottia screamed. 'It should be Scarlatti.' The harpsichord player ignored him, and the great structure of sound flowed from his fingers.
Craig went back to the balcony, and evaded a columbine, two gypsies, and three Desdemonas, one of them in
her nightgown. Now there were two hundred people at least, but he spotted Naxos easily enough. This time he had two houris with him, identical in dress. Pia had arrived then. He looked down at the bar and froze. Dominating it was an enormous headsman covered in black. Black shirt, black tights, black boots, black gloves. A black skullcap on his head, and his face was covered from hair to throat in a black mask, but nothing could hide his size. With him were three bravos, chic-looking hoodlums in purple and black, with rapiers and daggers by their sides. The three were drinking champagne, but the black headsman's hands were empty and still. He was watching Naxos. Grierson climbed the stairs, paused by Craig, and lit a cigarette.
'I see we've got company,' he said.
Craig nodded, and stood up.
'Go and watch Trottia,' he said. 'This one's mine.'
* Chapter 12 *
Grierson left, and another crowd of dancers swarmed in, masking Naxos and his girls. When the crowd cleared, one houri stood alone, the other was dancing with Naxos. Craig went down the stairs and through the crowd like an arrow. The woman stood motionless, and the dancers stayed carefully back from her as if Naxos had built an invisible wall around her. Her whole body was posed, carefully, to bring out the smooth curving flow of breast and belly and thigh. From the sleek blackness of her hair to her scarlet-painted toes, she was the great Hollywood sex dream incarnate; Ah Baba's girl friend with the magic carpet all revved up and waiting. And yet, Craig thought, the whole act was quite unconscious. She stood like that because she'd been taught to stand like that. If sue sat down she'd cross her legs exactly to their best advantage, breathe in to lift her breasts from their golden cups, because that was what you did; that was what the people paid to see.
'Come and dance, Flip,' said Craig. 'Okay.'
She came into his arms, sensed the hard power in his hands as he touched her, dry and cool on her naked golden back.
'I'm not very good company tonight,' said Flip. 'Just take it as it comes,' said Craig. 'You'll be all
right.'
'No,' she shook her head. 'I feel terrible.' They danced in silence, and her body relaxed, very slightly, against his.
'How did you know it was me, anyway?' she asked. She paused, then added, 'I might have been Pia.' 'I just knew,' said Craig.
'Oh great. If you work at it hard enough you might pay me a compliment.'
Her body eased to his, supple, yielding. 'Thanks for trying anyway.'
They danced past the bar, where the big headsman stood. Craig felt her shiver. He said nothing.
'I like having you look after me,' said Flip. 'It makes a girl feel so secure.' Her fingers dug into his back. 'My God, you're tough.'
'I do a lot of dancing,' said Craig.
'Go on. Make jokes. You don't know what it's like to need the stuff the way I do,' said Flip. 'You know what I want to do right now? Scream and scream until even these jerks know there's something the matter. But you're so strong —you wouldn't care about that would you?' He said nothing. 'You know something? I think I was wrong about you. I think maybe you're a jerk, too. A good-looking jerk, but still a jerk.'
'Put your accent back on,' said Craig. 'Harry had you disguised as a lady.'
She tried to draw free then, to strike at him, but he held her easily, forced her body to dance. At last she said: 'Darling I
When the dance ended, they stood next to Naxos and the other golden dream girl. Naxos said at once, 'Good for you, John. Flip's too much on her own.'
Craig said: 'My pleasure. Hello, Pia.'
The houri nodded, her eyes lit in a smile. She seemed
shyer than Craig would have imagined, more conscious of her body. Craig moved towards her but Naxos's arms came round her smooth, unblemished shoulders, turned her away from him and drew her back into the dance. They danced awkwardly together, but Naxos was awkward as a charging rhino is awkward, and this was the effect of his dancing.
'She must have gone off you,' Flip said. 'I haven't. I may need you yet.'
'How did you get your skin so brown?' Craig asked. 'Suntan oil?'
The eyes behind the mask went wary.
'Body makeup,' she said. 'The sort strippers use. I used to be a stripper once. Did you know that?'
'Yes,' said Craig.
'And a whore, and a drug addict.' 'And an actress,' Craig said.
T made two pictures and seven cowboy films for TV. The cowboy always got the horse.'
'That's a new twist,' Craig said. 'But I heard you were kind to your friends.'
'It got to be a habit.'
'I mean sincere, generous,' Craig said. 'Compassionate. So why hand out suntan lotion?'
'I don't know what you're talking about,' Fhp said. 'Let's go look at the happenings.'
He shrugged and walked -towards the golden staircase. At once, Naxos steered the other houri towards them, butting his way through the dancers. By the time they reached the crowd at the foot of the stairs, Naxos and his girl were only a couple of yards behind them. The crowd opened to them, then suddenly held. The three masked bravos stood in front of them. Craig let Flip's arm go, and continued to walk, slow, unhurried. At the last possible moment, the middle bravo yielded. Craig stopped, looked first left then right, and the three fell back farther. Craig moved on as Fhp took his arm again. At the top of the stairs he waited until Naxos joined them. Pia had left him. The three pretty killers played round her like piranha fish, urging her to where the massive headman waited. A gallant in crimson velvet and a lieutenant in the uniform of the Navy of George III moved after her. Craig went to look at the happenings.
When Naxos approached, things happened all right.
