After she briefly saw her daughter Martha Harding returned to her bedroom which was actually a suite of three rooms.
There was an ante room or sitting room, a room where she slept and a room where she conducted elaborate toilets and where her large wardrobe was.
She lay in the middle of a double, canopied bed, her back propped up by several large, fluffy pillows. She wore silk pajamas and leafed absently through a fashion magazine.
Her daughter had been conceived more to please her late husband than anything else and while Martha didn't actually dislike the child so to put it simply, bad no use for her.
As a result, Samantha had been shuttled from one boarding school to the next until she ran out of schools to send her to.
Then she came home. Hopefully she would find a suitable mate, get married and move out, only to see her mother once or twice a year.
That would suit Martha Harding fine and she fervently hoped that she would be able to arrange a suitable marriage within a reasonable amount of time.
In the meantime however, she knew she had no choice but to put up with her and also to put up with all of the anxieties that went along with being a parent, no matter how much she tried to remove herself from them.
It would be a pain in the neck but Martha marshaled the few resolves she had and was determined not to allow Samantha to totally control her life.
It had been so long since she had been around her, she hardly knew how to act. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do?
Admittedly she had not been the best of mothers but to a great extent that was a value judgment and Martha was not going to allow herself to be trapped that way.
She sipped a large vodka and tonic before sitting it down on the night table. The room was dark except for the Tiffany lamp on the table. The bar was in the sitting room and Martha considered ringing for Caroline so she could make her another drink and then decided against it.
He walked in and was standing at the very edge of the pool of light by the foot of her bed. She never even heard him.
'We've got a problem,' he said.
'Oh, it's you?'
'Yes?'
'You should have coughed or something, you might have frightened me.'
'I doubt it.'
'Want a drink?'
'I've already made myself one.'
'Good.' Martha put down the magazine and looked at the man. 'Now, what's the problem?'
'It's your daughter?'
'And exactly how is she a problem?'
'We took a little detour on the way back from the airport,' said Cordova.
'Sight seeing?'
'In a way. Do you know Rainbow Cove?'
'No.'
'It's on the other side of the bridge, very deserted, very romantic?'
'We must go there sometime?'
'I was there with your daughter?'
'We fucked.'
'She made you?'
'She told me I'd be fired if I didn't.' 'The little slut! She's not even home and she's spreading her legs.'
'That's what I thought, too.'
'Was she any good?'
'Not bad?'
'I assume she intends to work at it?'
'That was the impression I got,' said Cordova as he came around so he could sit on the edge of the bed and stroke her hair.
'And why is that a problem?'
'She wants me to teach her, to satisfy her.'
'My, my we are quite the stud, aren't we?'
'It's a role I'd rather not play.'
'I don't blame you but I'm not sure that you have any choice in the matter.'
'What do you mean?'
'Let's assume that Samantha is determined to find out all about the birds and the bees?'
'I think we can safely assume that.'
'Well, either she finds out here or she finds out elsewhere.'
'I have a name in this town that I'd just as soon keep,' said Martha.
'I don't blame you.'
'It would be difficult if word got around that my daughter was sleeping with everything that wore pants,' she added.
'It would be very embarrassing.'
'So, either she gets it here or she gets it somewhere else, right?'
'Right.'
'Well, I think it would be better for everyone concerned if she got it here. That way we could keep an eye on her.'
'Supervise her.'
'Yes and also keep her under control.'
'You realize that I'm the one who'll have to give her what she wants,' said Cordova.
'I know.'
'And you won't be jealous?'
'How long have you been working here?' asked Martha as she laid a hand over his.
'A couple of years.'
'And how long have we been lovers?'
'A couple of years?'
'And have you bad other women during that time?' she asked calmly. 'Well…'
'Don't bother to lie, I know you have but it doesn't bother me?'
'How do you know?'
'That's my business just like my other lovers are,' she said.
'So there won't be any problems, then?'
'There will always be problems. I just want to keep my daughter's lusts under control.'
'If you can.'
'Good point. Yes, if I can. After all, she's very curious. That's only normal.'
'And she must be satisfied,' added Cordova.
'Yes, and satisfied and satisfied.'
'Until she's no longer curious?'
'No, until she knows how to ration it out and that's what we've got to do?'
'I don't follow you?'
'We've got to educate her.'
'You mean I've got to educate her.'
'Both of us, in our own ways. Samantha has got to come until it's coming out of her ears and then she's got to come some more.'
'Hmmm, it might take a little time?'
'Are you going anywhere?'
