I said, “Hold on,” and put the telephone down. I went into the sitting-room. Curtis was doing his stuff with Ackie’s Spanish dame. I went over. “You’re wanted on the ’phone,” I said.
He looked startled. “You sure?” he asked, getting to his feet.
“If your name’s Curtis, I am,” I said.
He gave me a quick, hard look and then went outside. I saw him shut the door carefully behind him, and I looked around for Mardi. Before I could spot her, the Spanish dame started doing her stuff. At times, women are hell.
By the time I’d got away from her Curtis had come back into the room. He was looking mad all right. He went over to Hughson. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve had an urgent telephone message. I’ve got to get home.”
Hughson didn’t worry a lot. He made sympathetic noises. “You’re not taking Mardi with you?” he said anxiously. “She an’ I are gettin’ on well together.”
I moved a little closer so that I could hear.
Curtis looked down at Mardi. “I’ll take you home first,” he said, “or do you want to stay? I’m damn sorry about this….”
She shook her head. “I’ll stay. You go on. Maybe you can come back.”
He hesitated. I could see he didn’t want to go and he was sore as hell.
Hughson put in: “I’ll see her back. You don’t have to worry.”
“All right, I’ll see you to-morrow,” Curtis said to Mardi.
He went out of the door quickly, not bothering to say good-bye to any of the others. That’s the sort of guy Curtis was. No one was of any interest to him unless he was sure that he was going to get something out of them.
Mardi said to Hughson: “I’d love a gin-and-lime.”
“Sure, I’ll fix you one. Just wait a moment. I won’t be long,” kidding himself that she was going into mourning until he came back.
I stepped up to her as soon as he went into the kitchen. I was hoping that Dawn would hold him for a little while. “I want to talk to you,” I said quietly. “May I take you home?”
She nodded.
I got a swell feeling just standing looking at her. “Mind if we go soon?”
She shook her head. “When you like,” she said.
Hughson came back with the gin-and-lime. When he saw me his face darkened. “On your way, big boy,” he said. “There’s a virgin in the kitchen waiting for you.”
I shook my head. “You’re too late. Mardi an’ me are old friends. She’s just having the drink an’ we’re going home… together and alone.”
Hughson turned to Mardi. “I’ve warned you about this guy,” he said heatedly. “He spends all his time grabbing things that don’t belong to him and wrecking homes.”
Mardi laughed. “I feel like being wrecked right now,” she said. “It’s getting late, Barry, and I ought to go.”
Hughson groaned. “Give me one more dance and I’ll let you,” he said. “You had much better let me see you home.”
I nodded to her behind his back. I didn’t want this to look too sudden. They danced off together and I went over to Ackie. I told him I was moving off.
He was so plastered that he didn’t care if I was going to commit suicide. “Don’t be hard on her,” he said, screwing up his eyes. “She looks a swell girl.”
I signalled to Mardi that I’d meet her downstairs. I didn’t want Dawn to arrive just as we were going. I need not have worried my head about her. She had passed out under the kitchen table.
Five minutes later Mardi came running down the stairs. She wore a perky little hat and a nice fur coat. She looked good.
We didn’t have to wait long before a taxi crawled by. I waved and he pulled up at the kerb. “Where shall I tell him?” I asked.
She hesitated. Then she said: “I—I haven’t got a home any more… do you think I could put up at a hotel or somewhere?”
I gaped at her. “Have you got any luggage?”
She nodded. “It’s at the station,” she said. “I could go there first and collect it, but I want to catch an early train.”
I said: “If I suggest you come back to my place, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything wrong. I just offer you my roof and hope you will accept it.”
She stood looking into my face for several seconds, then she said: “Thank you. It’s nice of you.”
Hardly believing that I had heard correctly, I handed her into the taxi.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ON THE SHORT TRIP from Hughson’s apartment to my place we didn’t say a word. It was incredible to me that she was sitting by my side, willing to share my rooms with me, and I’d only known her for such a short time.
When a girl shows such willingness, I’m usually sure that I’m on to a good thing. With Mardi it was different. There was something about her that built up a surrounding wall that protected her from any mean thoughts that might come her way. I’m not going to say that every guy wouldn’t try to make a pass, but as far as I was concerned she got me like that.
She sat quietly in the corner of the taxi and looked out of the window. Every now and then, when we passed a street light, I could see her clearly. With that perky little hat on her head and the fur collar tight at her throat, she looked swell.
We got to my apartment and I paid off the taxi.
Quietly we crept up the stairs. I was nervous of the guy opposite me, but as it was getting on for two o’clock I guessed he’d be asleep.
We got into my apartment without disturbing any one. I shut the door, turned on the light and tossed my hat on the settee.
“Whew!” I said. “I was sure gettin’ the jitters comin’ up the stairs.”
She stood looking round the room. “But it’s nice,” she said. “What a lot of books you have… and isn’t that cute?”
She went over to examine my miniature bar in the corner. We both kept our voices low like two conspirators. I wandered over and got behind the counter. “What would you like?” I said. “Suppose we have some rye and ginger… it’s grand stuff to sleep on.”
She again looked at me. I could see she was just a little doubtful of me: not scared, but not quite sure.
I grinned at her. “Baby,” I said, “you don’t have to worry about me. I know what you’re thinkin’ but you can forget it. With another dame, yes, but with you, no. I guess you would never have come here if you didn’t want some help bad… well, I want to help, an’ there won’t be a cheque comin’ in.”
When I said that, she relaxed. She said: “Make it a very small rye and a lot of ginger.”
While I was fixing the drinks, she went over and sat in the big armchair. It was one of those chairs that give to the floor. From where I was standing I could see the top of her hat and a lot of her legs. She opened the fur coat and draped it over the side of the chair.
It was chilly, so I switched on the little electric stove I used between the periods when the steam heat was off and the evenings got cold.
I came over with the drinks and gave her one of the glasses. Then, leaning against the mantelshelf, I nodded to her over the rim. “Safe landin’,” I said, and we drank.
She lay back in the armchair, holding the glass in one hand, and for a minute shut her eyes. I didn’t hurry her. I guessed she wanted to get her facts together, and I was happy enough to stand and watch her.
