'You do that,' shouted Hutchmeyer, 'and I'll sue for non-fulfilment of contract. I'll take him to the cleaners. I'll goddam...'
'Pay up,' said Sonia taking a seat and crossing her legs provocatively.
'Jesus,' said Hutchmeyer admiringly, 'I'll say this for you, you've got nerve.'
'Not all I got,' said Sonia, exposing a bit more, 'I've got Piper's second novel too.'
'And I have the option on it.'
'If he finishes it, Hutch, if he finishes it. You keep this sort of pressure up on him he's likely to Scott Fitzgerald on you. He's sensitive and '
'I heard all that already. From Baby. Shy, sensitive, my ass. The sort of stuff he writes he ain't sensitive. Got a hide like a fucking armadillo.'
'Which, since you haven't read it...' said Sonia.
'I don't have to read it. MacMordie read it and he said it made him almost fetch up and MacMordie don't fetch up easy.'
They wrangled on until lunch, happily embroiled in threat and counter-threat and the financial game of poker which was their real expertise. Not that Hutchmeyer paid up. Sonia had never expected him to, but at least it took his mind off Piper.
The same could not be said for Baby. Their walk along the shore to the studio after breakfast had confirmed her impression that at long last she had met a writer of genius. Piper had talked incessantly about literature and for the most part with an incomprehensibility that Baby found so impressive that she returned to the house feeling that she had undergone a cultural experience of the most profound kind. Piper's impressions were rather different, an amalgam of pleasure at having such an attentive and interested audience and wonder that so perceptive a woman could find the book he was supposed to have written anything less than disgusting. He went up to his room and was about to get out his diary when Sonia entered.
'I hope you've been discreet,' she said. 'That Baby's a ghoul.'
'A ghoul?' said Piper. 'She's a deeply sensitive...'
'A ghoul in gold lame pants. So what's she been doing with you all morning?'
'We went for a walk and she told me about her interest in conservation.'
'Well she didn't have to. You've only got to look at her to see she's done a great job. Like on her face.'
'She's very keen on health foods,' said Piper.
'And sandblasting,' said Sonia. 'Next time she smiles take a look at the back of her head.'
'At the back of her head? What on earth for?'
'To see how far the skin stretches. If that woman laughed she'd scalp herself.'
'Well all I can say is that she's a lot better than Hutchmeyer,' said Piper, who hadn't forgotten what he had been called the night before.
'Hutch I can handle,' said Sonia, 'no problems there. I've got him eating out of my hand so don't foul things up by making goo-goo eyes at his wife and blowing your top about things literary.'
'I am not making goo-goo eyes at Mrs Hutchmeyer,' said Piper indignantly, 'I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.'
'Well she's making them at you,' said Sonia. 'And another thing, keep that turban on. It suits you.'
'It may suit me, but it's very uncomfortable.'
'It will be a lot more uncomfortable if Hutch finds out you didn't get hit with a frisbee,' said Sonia.
They went down to lunch. Thanks to a call for Hutchmeyer from Hollywood which kept him out of the room for most of the meal it was a lot easier than breakfast. He came in as they were having coffee and looked at Piper suspiciously.
