Chapter 10
THEY left the studio, stopped at a nearby bar. Greta had put on a dress, heels and lipstick. The conversation dealt largely with people Al did not know.
Greta said, "Did you hear that the Nolans and the Aliens have fallen out?"
Alice said she hadn't. "What happened?"
"Well, it was during a trip to Las Vegas-" Greta turned to Al. "Bob and Amy Nolan are in their late twenties. Jeff and Marge Allen are nearly twice that old. They were very close, mostly because they are next-door neighbors and it was handy for them to arrange things at any time." Then, to Alice again: "They planned this trip to Vegas and flew out for a week. The idea was to swap partners and stay at different hotels. They agreed that each couple was to keep to itself-not see the other until the day to come home.
"What happened was, Amy free-dated. Jeff let her, probably because, at his age, she was a bit too much for him. She would have gotten away with it but for a stroke of bad luck. Bob and Marge came out of a casino late one night and saw Amy getting into a taxi with two sailors she'd picked up. Bob blew his top. He went to the hotel where Jeff and Amy had a room, Marge tagging along. He raised Cain with poor Jeff, whose only defense was that he couldn't stop Amy from free-dating since she wasn't his wife. Bob made Amy pack her bags as soon as she got back. They flew home the same day-and now the Nolans and the Aliens aren't speaking. Bob still blames Jeff."
Alice said, "That's too bad. But I'd have thought it would be more Marge's style to do the free-dating. She's so gone on men."
"Who isn't?" Greta said, with a smile that was almost a grin. Then, soberly: "It is too bad they've quarreled. But Amy must have had a ball before Bob caught on."
Al asked, "Is free-dating against the rules?"
Mike nodded. "With most of us. Greta and I don't go in for it. Alice does-but her situation is different. Her husband doesn't belong to our group. The idea, Al, is for husband and wife to share experiences. Free-dating is cheating, in a way."
"Then I can date Greta when you date Alice," Al said, "but not any other time?"
"That's it, pal."
Winking at Al, Greta said, "Just call me some time and we'll see."
But she obviously did not mean it.
She finished her drink, looked at Alice. "Shall we leave the boys now?"
"If you like," Alice said, seemingly less enthusiastic than the dark-haired girl. She turned to Al. "I'll go with Greta in their car. You bring Mike in mine."
They left then and Al, new to this game, was a little confused. He looked questioningly at Mike.
"We'll give them an hour," Mike said easily. "That should satisfy that double-standard wife of mine. You're a novice at this, aren't you?"
Al nodded. "And I seem to have a lot to learn."
"Nothing to it, really," Mike told him. "A few convivial couples without stuffy notions about conventions have decided to streamline what generally happens when people go through serial marriages-you know, divorce and remarry over and over. The system saves most of us from ill-feeling and legal fees-it also saves time and some marriages. Greta and I have a more solid life together than before we formed our group. In fact, we had quite a bit of trouble and our marriage was heading for the rocks. Most of the other couples have saved shaky marriages or been rescued from boredom by our little friendship club. Alice's case-as I said-is different. She's not a full-fledged member. She isn't in all our activities, and she is free to date as she sees fit. But Greta and I get together with her regularly. It would be different for her all around if she stopped playing the field and stuck with one guy-with you, for instance. I'd like to see her do that. You and she would make a good team. The whole group would welcome the two of you."
Still a little confused, Al said, "I'm surprised at that. I'd think Greta and you wouldn't want me in on it-wouldn't want to share Alice."
"When you go into a thing like this deliberately and with your eyes open-you never get deeply involved with casual partners," Mike said earnestly. "It seems the more variety a couple has the more it craves. Some couples go to great lengths to find more and more variety. Take for example Clyde and Ginny Bennett-he's a surgeon. Makes a mint. The Bennetts take the game seriously. They recently jetted down to Miami Beach to meet a new couple-a Cuban couple. Had a wonderful time, Doc told me." Mike grinned suddenly. "This doesn't shock you, does it?"
"You haven't-yet." Al grinned. "I'm actually playing the game, myself, although I hadn't heard the rules. My wife is having an affair with Jay Bolton. That's how I came to meet Alice."
"Jay Bolton is having an affair?" Mike was genuinely surprised. "Now I've heard everything."
They had a couple more drinks, talked some more, and then Mike said they might as well be on their way. "We've given the girls their hour."
In the bedroom of her duplex apartment, Alice Bolton submitted to Greta Ransome's love-play with an indifference that slowly gave way to a feeling of pleasure. Long minutes passed before she was titillated by the dark-haired girl's fervent kisses and eager caresses. Her enjoyment of deviate love was limited. Even when sensation was touched off in her, she found it merely pleasant-not wildly exciting, as Greta did.
A strange creature, Greta.
Or perhaps fortunate. To be able to enjoy both sexes fully must be something. A full adult life-all bets covered. Some people were even able to fit kids into the scene-but for Alice the occasion afforded only an enjoyable sense of being appreciated-with only the mildest of climactic ecstasies.
But Greta could not get enough, could not find enough ways of manipulating Alice's body against her own to satisfy her own strange desires. At last her passion soared and, while Alice tried to attain the same heights, Greta's frenzy exploded to completion. Alice knew only a tiny explosion of sensation.
Afterward they lay apart; their emotions quieted and their senses grew calm. At times Greta talked like a lesbian. She did so now.
"You're wonderful, darling. I love being your butch. Do you like being my femme?"
"Of course, I like it, dear," Alice said, not untruthfully. Love in any form was pleasant to her, enjoyable. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have started my affair with you."
"Sometimes I think you don't like it-you hold back so."
"I simply can't go as far as you, Greta. I wish I could."
"Just don't ever stop liking me as much as you do."
"I won't, I promise."
"I'd die if I lost you." Greta kissed her on the mouth at the same time exploring her body. "What's this new man of yours like?"
"He's a regular stud, believe me."
"He must be extraordinary for you to say that," Greta said, laughing. "I can hardly wait to try him out."
"Don't get any ideas about free-dating him," Alice said, not joking. "If he can keep up the pace, I'll probably keep him as a pet."
The door chimes sounded.
"There are the boys," she said. "Let go of me, so I can let them in."
She had told the doorman to let Mr. Kirby and Mr. Ransome come up without being announced. That they were here so soon surprised her. The hour with Greta had been a short one indeed. Maybe she did enjoy Greta's kind of love-making more than she had realized.
She put on a robe and slippers, went downstairs to open the door to Al and Mike.
"Did you really wait an hour," she asked, "or did you cheat?"
"I cannot tell a he," Mike said untruthfully. "We gypped."
He put an arm about her as the three of them walked from the foyer to the living room. "A drink, anybody?"
"Not for me, thanks," Mike said. "Nor for me," Al added.
He watched Mike run his hand over Alice's hips and felt again a thrust of jealousy. He was doubly jealous, of Greta and of Mike. Alice's session with Greta had left her with tousled hair and smeared lipstick-and a loosely wanton look. He wished that he and not Mike were staying here with her. A strange thing, his being jealous because of Alice when he had been able to accept Janice's involvement with Bolton without a twinge.
Mike sat with Alice on the sofa. Al seated himself in a chair, feeling out of things. He tried not to look disgruntled. He had to play the game their way.
Greta came down shortly, dressed and freshened up. She did not sit down but looked expectantly at Al.
"I'm ready if you are, lover."
He got up reluctantly, looking at Alice. She smiled at him.
"Have fun," she said. "See you later." Then she turned to Mike, who was pulling her to him.
Greta sensed Al's mood. As they left the building and walked toward Alice's car, she said, "Cheer up. You can go back to her later. I'm not going to keep you prisoner. Besides, I'm every bit as good as she is."
Al looked at her. At least she was good to look at. Different from Alice, from Janice, from the recently errant housewife he had visited until Janice had learned about her-subtly different from any woman he had ever known-even in appearance. Black, rigidly coiffed hair, violet eyes, ivory skin. Outwardly hard-but burning with some inward flame visible in an inviting, challenging smile. A slender body, gently curved. Small, widely spaced breasts, pear-shaped under a tight bodice. Lovely long legs. Al looked at her and wondered what he was feeling displeased about.
He grinned suddenly. "You're right, of course."
He kissed her in the convertible.
"Yum-yum," Greta said. "Tastes like more."
He kissed her again. She thrust her tongue into his mouth. It was warm, alive-and had a curious strength and agility. It did suggestive things.
Abruptly she drew away.
"Home, James," she said. "And hurry."
Starting the motor, he said, "Where is home?"
She gave an address. He drove to it.
The neighborhood was old, but time had merely mellowed the tall, narrow row houses. No dry-rot of slums had infected it, nor had the dubious progress of commercialization. The stately houses had been kept up properly. They had the look of money. Obviously, photography paid off.
Al found a parking space between a Continental and an Imperial. He followed Greta up stone steps to a varnished door with stained-glass insets. A light burning in the vestibule made the glass glow softly in a half-dozen colors.
Greta gave Al her key. He unlocked the door, pushed it open. The vestibule was tiled. He opened the inner door, and they entered an attractively furnished foyer.
"Let's go right upstairs," Greta said and took his hand.
She seemed in a hurry now.
On the second floor, she switched on lights and led him along a hallway to a sitting room that had a bar in one corner.
"Fix a couple of drinks," she said, "and bring them back to the bedroom."
She left him and Al, gripped by a sense of unreality, went to the bar. It was well stocked and had its own refrigerator. He dropped a couple of cubes in each of two tall glasses, selected a bottle of whiskey and made the drinks doubles.
He found the bedroom. Its furnishings featured an oriental motif, the color scheme red, black and gold. Bronze and jade ornaments stood on low tables. The bed seemed intended more for romping than sleeping. His gaze was drawn to a large mirror set into one wall. He eyed it suspiciously.
Greta came from an adjoining dressing room. She had changed into a Chinese shift, slit up each side so that each of her legs was revealed as she walked. The garment was black and embroidered in gold with a dragon design.
"A thing with me," she said, gesturing to indicate the room and her costume. "I think my mother must have been frightened by a Chinese when she was carrying me. Maybe one raped her."
She struck a match and lit a brass incense burner on a table.
Then, taking one of the drinks from him, she asked, "Would you still rather be with Alice?"
He shook his head, grinning. "This is better than a slow boat to China."
She said, "Quicker, anyway. I don't sleep here with Mike. This is just my playground. If you're all Alice says-I hope you and I romp here often."
"That mirror," Al said. "Is it like the one at the studio?"
She nodded. "My darling husband is something of a voyeur. We put guests into this room. He's taken some very interesting pictures through that mirror."
"I'll bet he has. By the way, why did you want pictures of yourself posing with Alice?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, really. Having pictures of yourself and your playmates seems to be a part of the game. After all, each relationship, each moment of pleasure is transient. Would you like to see some of my collection?"
"Sure," Al said. "I've reached the point where I'm game for anything."
She shook her head. "On second thought, no. You're too new. We have to be careful."
Al said, "I'm curious about something. How did you and Mike get started on this kick?"
"It was because of something that happened to me," Greta said casually. "I became pregnant soon after Mike and I were married. I was seven months along and terribly clumsy. One day I fell down a flight of stairs.
They had to take my baby from me at the hospital. I had serious internal injuries. Worse, I ended up unable to have another child. I'd wanted children desperately, and what with losing my baby and being told I couldn't have another, I cracked up-had a real breakdown. I wouldn't accept the fact that I was now unable to become pregnant. I put the blame on Mike. I made life a living hell for him. He put me in a private mental hospital. I got out after two months by faking that I was better. I started quarreling with Mike again-accusing him of being sterile. Oh, I was a real bitch. Want to hear the rest?"
"You haven't come to the point."
"At the time we were close friends with Jeff and Marge Allen, the couple I was talking about earlier tonight. Jeff had given Mike financial help to set up his business. And we also lived next to them then in the suburbs, in the house Bob and Amy Nolan now own. Jeff and Marge would come over every evening, trying to help Mike with me. One evening Marge had a girl-to-girl talk with me. She said that if I didn't snap out of it Mike couldn't take much more. Then she asked if I would accept the fact that I couldn't have a child if I failed to become pregnant by a man other than Mike."
Greta paused, took a long pull at her drink. The memory seemed to pain her.
She went on, "Somehow, Marge got through to me. She offered to let her Jeff sleep with me, if I would have him. She pointed out that I knew Jeff wasn't sterile-she'd had four children by him."
Greta smiled bitterly. "I guess I had all three of them desperate. They had talked it over and agreed that anything was worth trying. So Jeff slept with me that night-and a whole lot of nights. Two months passed and I still wasn't pregnant. Poor Jeff, he tried so hard."
"But you became convinced?" Al asked. "You snapped out of it then?"
She nodded. "Somehow it got through to me that there was a lot of love in this world-beyond rigid conventions. Mike's love for me-his willingness to hold our marriage together at any cost. Marge's friendship-Jeff. We decided to share what we'd all learned. Other people-with their own problems-joined us. We decided never to be afraid of love in any form-conventional or otherwise."
"That's not exactly the pitch Mike gave me-but it fits."
Greta smiled. "Mike wouldn't talk about the problem he had with me. At least not to a stranger. But we have, I believe, a better marriage than most couples. Another drink?"
Al shook his head. "I want to make love to you," he said.