“No, you don’t know a damn thing about it. I’ve got to do it myself. Now go, darling. Be a good girl and go.” And she gave Beth a kiss on the cheek. Beth nearly suffocated for one lovely moment with the urge to pull Vega back into the shadows and tell her how beautiful she was, how unfairly beautiful.
But Vega left her and Beth was soon completely alone in the swirl of frenetic activity. Girls in tulle, girls in tights, girls in skin-fitted sheathes—all so young, all so feather-headed with excitement. Beth watched them a moment, enjoying the practiced movements, the bursts of nervous giggling, the fascinated preening at mirrors. Until she was jostled once too often and felt her solitude in the inconvenience she caused.
Shortly afterward she left. But she spent the whole evening in a misty fantasy of Vega that even Charlie could not penetrate with his grumblings about Cleve.
“I think he was out somewhere swilling booze this afternoon,” he said. “He came in about five and he was loaded. If it happens again I’m going to raise the roof.”
“Why does he do it?” Beth asked vaguely. “He’s happy with Jean, isn’t he?”
“I guess so. At least she never complains. He could shove a knife in her ribs and all she’d do is hand him that same old smile. But that isn’t it. Something is bugging the guy. Always has been, since I first knew him, like he’d committed murder and gotten away with it, and then discovered he couldn’t live with his conscience. It almost seems sometimes like he’s trying to tell you about it. But he just ends up telling you to be careful.”
Beth looked up at this, remembering her afternoon with Cleve. “Be careful of what?” she said.
Charlie shrugged. “Who knows? He never gets it said.”
Chapter Seven
BETH AND CHARLIE BOTH JUMPED WHEN THE PHONE RANG AT one-thirty in the morning. Charlie grumbled, “I’ll get it,” but Beth had a sudden premonition and said, “Oh, never mind. I’ll go.”
Willingly he turned over, muttering, “Probably a wrong number. Some drunk, or something.”
It was Vega and she sounded hysterical. “Beth! Oh, darling, thank God you’re there.”
“Where else would I be at this hour of the morning?” she said, keeping her voice low so Charlie wouldn’t hear the conversation. She was both thrilled and alarmed to hear that cautious smooth voice, charged now with desperation.
“Beth, you’ve got to help me. I’m in a ghastly predicament. I’m just frantic.”
“Where are you?” Beth asked.
“At the Knickerbocker.”
“The hotel?” Beth was relieved; the trouble couldn’t be too serious.
“Yes. It got so late. Some of the girls wanted to stay, so I said it was okay. Oh, I called their mothers and everything. You have to be so damn careful with them, with all these repulsive conventioneers around. It’s like trying to smuggle a hoard of diamonds through a convention of international jewel thieves. And if anything happens to any one of my angels—holy God, it’d ruin me! I’d be run out of town on a rail.” She stopped talking suddenly, as if to catch her breath, as if the tension in her had drained her resources.
“Vega, tell me what happened!” Beth demanded, worried.
“Well, I—we—” For a moment Beth feared Vega would burst into tears. Her honeyed voice broke and Beth grasped the phone in sweating hands, imagining the worst.
“Vega, did some bastard try to—” she began but Vega interrupted.
“No, nothing like that, I just—Beth, darling, would you mind driving over here?”
In the astonished silence Charlie called out, “Beth, for the love of God. Who is it?”
“It’s Vega. And shut up, you’ll wake up the kids,” she hissed at him.
“Vega!” he spluttered. “What does she want?”
“I don’t know. Please shut up.”
“Well, tell her to go cram it, and come to bed.”
“Beth, I need you. Will you come down?” Vega asked, her voice rough and soft and tantalizingly near to Beth. Beth stood in the dark, feeling her heart skip and a queer concentrated pleasure flash through her body. Beg me, Vega, beg me, she thought. Work for me. I want you so. “It’ll take an hour,” she hedged.
“Not at this time of night. Oh, darling, I’m so miserable. Please come to me. I haven’t got a single cigarette and those s.o.b’s at the desk won’t send any up. I haven’t even got enough whiskey for a lousy nightcap. You will come, won’t you? And bring me some groceries?”
And Beth understood then why she was calling. Cleve had already warned her: Vega couldn’t sleep without a bottle by the bed. There was a moment of acute disappointment when she wanted to throw the phone down and smash it. And then it came to her suddenly that Vega could have called somebody else, even Cleve. But she chose her instead.
“I’ll come,” Beth said weakly. “I’ll come, Vega.”
“Bless you, Beth, you’re wonderful. I swear, nobody else is crazy like I am but you. I knew you’d do it. Darling, you make me feel so much less lonesome.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Beth said, and hung up.
Beth tried to find her clothes in the dark without waking Charlie. But he was listening for her. Suddenly he switched on the reading light over the bed. For a second or two they were both blinded: Beth on one foot in the closet, pulling on a stocking, and Charlie leaning on his elbow against the pillow. When he opened his eyes and saw her he got out of bed and went to her without a word. Beth felt him come toward her and she was afraid of him; really afraid. He was a big man with a hard body and a strong streak of jealousy in him. His love for her was still alive but it was uncomfortable and a little the worse for wear and disappointments over
