Chapter 10
Between classes the next day, Deedee looked back upon her experience of the night before. It hadn't really been so bad, she mused, although she knew full well it wasn't the kind of thing she'd have sought out for herself-nor, she added mentally, the kind of thing she'd have gone out on with someone strange. Then too, she added defensively, she'd made money. The John had given both of them a good tip on top of the promised fee. It beat giving her body to a strange man. Still, she couldn't remove from her thoughts the sense of having been violated.
She reached the top of the path and looked out at the blue Pacific Ocean. It always had a calming effect on Deedee, and when her conscience began to bother her she usually managed to find time to go to it. She spread her bright jacket on the grass beside the path and sat down on it, staring out at the bright vista before her. I've been watching all the angles, she assured herself. It hasn't been easy, but I've managed to keep my off-campus life a secret from the other Blue Harbour students. You've got to keep that way, Deedee Ryan, she spoke the words softly, to herself.
Suddenly she laughed, an almost bitter sound. An errant thought had forced its way into her mind; one she had been fighting quite often the past few months. She wondered just why she was bothering to continue with college; the original purpose was to get herself into an income group that would allow her to give the baby the best of care. Well, she was in a big-income group, and an education had nothing to do with it. I must be turning it into some kind of a monster, she thought. It's not the end result that matters now. It's getting that college education, come hell or high water!
The ocean failed to have its usual therapeutic value that day.
Almost a week passed, during which time Deedee's call service failed to receive any messages for her. She was beginning to wonder if her short, happy career as a campus call girl had reached an early end when she received the next message from Sandy. She returned the call immediately.
"Hi, Deedee, baby. How's it goin'?"
"Not too good," Deedee confessed quickly. "No action at all the past few days. Has sex gone out of style, or is it me?"
Sandy laughed. "There's a slack period in every business Dee. Don't worry about it. But look, remember that john we did the bit for? He's hot to buy it again. Has a friend he wants to come in and watch with him, and is givin' us double the fee. Okay for tomorrow night?"
"Well," Deedee hesitated, knowing as she did so that she'd give in before the conversation ended, "I don't know. It wasn't exactly the kind of action I-"
"Don't be such a little jerk. The money spends. And I do bathe regularly, you know. Well, Deedee? Yes or nor? In or out? Personally, I don't see how you can pass up the loot unless all that jazz you've been giving me about needing money for the kid and your education was somethin' you just dreamed up. Look, there are plenty of other girls who'd be only too-"
Deedee interrupted her. "Okay, okay, Sandy. I'll make it. What time shall I come over?"
"Make it fairly early. I think our guys are going out on the town after we get them in the mood. See you tomorrow. And sweet dreams."
"The same." Deedee put down the telephone slowly. This his sort of life wasn't nearly so easy as she'd thought it would be when she started. She lit a cigarette, looking slowly around the apartment she was paying for with her favors. She sighed and vaguely wondered how the child was tonight. It had been almost a week since she'd seen her. Walking over to the small desk, she picked up her English Lit assignment for the weekend and, returning to the couch, sat down and started to read. So many things moved before her eyes, shadowing the mimeographed page.
Little Maria. Would she ever find out that her mother was-No, of course not. That would all be over long before the child was old enough to know or understand. And her plans called for moving a long way from the West Coast once she had that all-important piece of parchment in her hands.
Pat. Her brow furrowed at the thought of him. After the birth of her child, after the first year of her schooling, particularly after her entry into this old-old profession, she had consciously tried to force the memory of him from her mind. She had not been very successful. The thought of him often came unbidden to her mind. Was she destroying herself? Was her plan, this wild, impossible dream of hers driving her toward an early end? She shook her head, wearily, trying to dispel the shadowy half-glimpsed thoughts.
In sudden disgust, she shoved the paperwork away from her, went to the kitchen, poured a drink from the bottle that Bradley kept in the cupboard, drank it down and shuddered only a little bit. She had, she realized, been drinking more and more lately. Still, she poured another drink, held the bottle to the light. Judiciously, she turned on the tap and ran a few ounces of water into the bottle of whiskey. Jim would never know. He drank his liquor mixed with soda anyway. She drank the second drink, went into the bathroom, shook two Nembutal capsules from the bottle and popped them into her mouth, then washed them down with a sip of water from the glass she kept there.
She went to bed, her stomach warmed by the whiskey, her head already a little muzzy from the sleeping capsules. In the morning, she thought sleepily, I'll have to take a couple of bennies to get awake in time for my first class. She lit a cigarette, took only a few puffs, and snuffed it out securely. Then Deedee reached up and turned off the lamp. Even with the whiskey and the sleeping pills, it took her almost an hour to get to sleep.
After her last class the next day she hurried home, determined to get a nap before the evening rolled around. She was hungry but couldn't think of anything that sounded tempting to eat. Her mouth felt hot and dry. Finally she poured herself a glass of cold milk, ate a couple of crackers. Sipping the milk, she made her way back into the living room where she decided to nap on the sofa. She kicked off her shoes, drank the last of her milk, and lay back. She'd hardly settled herself when the telephone rang. She picked it up, half-hoping it was Maria needing her presence at the old apartment. It would be a perfect excuse to get out of the call with Sandy. She felt bone-tired.
It was Bradley. "Hello, honey," the rich, whiskey baritone said. "It's the old man. Listen, I'm calling from Santa Barbara. Got a little business to finish up here, then I'm driving on down. I was going to surprise you, then decided it would be better if you could be ready when I get there. So take a beauty nap for a little while, huh? We'll go to one of those fancy sea-food places tonight and live it up a little, hey? How'd you like that? And wear one of your green dresses. They always do me in!"
She thought rapidly. "Good Lord, Jim. I didn't expect you in until sometime next week."
His voice chuckled, heartily and with confidence. "The old man surprised you, huh? I jazzed things up a little, rushed a couple of problems through to give me a reason for leaving Chicago again so soon. Figured we'd have a little more time together this way."
"That's wonderful, Jim. But darling, listen. I have to go to a stupid tea party at the home of one of the faculty members tonight. I'm sorry, but it's a command performance. Think your little girl's in line for some kind of scholarship, and this is their swinging way of breaking the news. I'm sorry it's going to mess us up a little, but it's better than flunksville, no? I don't think I'll be very late, Jimmie. Probably about tennish. I've no classes tomorrow, so if you don't mind having a kind of late date with me, I'll tell you what you do." All the time she was speaking, Deedee's thoughts were one step ahead of her voice. Thank God, she thought. Thank God, he called first! "You have dinner there, then drive on down. You should be getting here about ten, and if you're not too tired we'll go out for a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then a late supper somewhere. Okay, darling?" She crossed her fingers as she spoke, an unconscious mannerism left over from an almost forgotten childhood.
"Well," Bradley sounded like a disappointed little boy, "Sure. I guess so. Okay. Only I had kind of hoped that ... well, the hell with it. And I'm proud of the good news from school." He managed to add a touch of cheerfulness to his next words. "Okay, baby doll! We'll have a late date. You and me. By God, we'll make a night of it. But don't drink too much tea. I want you to have some room left for Martinis, kid! I'll teach you how to bend your elbow tonight! See you at ten. And, Deedee...."
"Yes, Jim?"
"You know I love you? Me, the fat old bastard who's old enough to be your father? And isn't that a laugh! See you at ten." He hung up without waiting for her goodbye.
She looked at the receiver long and thoughtfully. Poor Jim Bradley. He deserved a lot better than he was getting. She hung up the telephone and lay back for her nap.
She reached Sandy's pad shortly before seven. As she dressed, Sandy chattered along. "Hey, these early sessions are all right, you know? I got a late trick tonight, too. Maybe even a double-header. Want me to check it out? Maybe you could make that scene with me, too? Ought to be good for at least fifty."
Deedee shook her head as she smoothed down the hip-hugging satin of her cocktail gown. "No. I can't. Jim's coming in tonight at ten, so I'll have to go straight home."
Sandy took a quick look at her as she turned off the overhead light and started toward the door. "I don't get it, kid. Are you hung up on him or something? Hell, I thought you had to make enough money for your kid. And what're you screwing around that college for, anyway? You got all the education and equipment you'll ever need for your line of work. Hell, us whores don't have to-"
Deedee interrupted angrily. "Pm not a whore!"
Sandy barked a short laugh. "You could have fooled me, honey. You do it for money, don't you? What else would you call it?"
They reached Sandy's small convertible, and drove off in silence. Deedee's anger was still simmering. But, she had to admit to herself, what else could you call it? The only thing she knew was that if you didn't talk about it, it wasn't exactly the same. Hot tears rose to her eyes. She opened her purse and dabbed at the tears with a piece of tissue.
Sandy tapped her on the thigh. "I know what you mean, kid. I get pretty disgusted with myself sometimes. Listen, don't pay any attention to me. You keep right on with that college bit. Someday you'll have enough education to get out of this lousy racket. If I had the brains, maybe I'd do the same thing." She laughed again. "Me," she said, with an edge of bitterness to the words, "Me, the dumb Polack from the South. I didn't even get out of my first year in high school!" Deedee smiled a tearful thanks.
"Hey," Sandy said, "you know somethin'? I think maybe I'm a lesbian, by God! I kind of like this action we're doin' tonight. It might be real kicks if we didn't have those Johns watching. How about you?"
The car pulled to a halt before the house where the assignation was to be held. Deedee put her hand on the door handle. "Nothing," she replied flatly. "It does nothing for me at all. I get more kicks scratching my back."
Their eyes met and held. Sandy grinned first. "Just so I'll understand, huh?"
"Just so you'll understand. Now, let's get this show on the road."
They got out of the car, walked to the door and rang the bell for number seven. The door clicked and they entered, went up to the large, luxuriously furnished apartment where they were to put on their "show" for the edification of the John and his buddy. Two weirdos.
"Come in, come in," the John greeted them. "My buddy isn't here yet. Listen, let's have a drink, hey? How about that girls, a little drinkie-winkie to kind of loosen us all up?"
"Yes," Sandy said, "well, there's just one thing. Let's have the ... gift first, shall we? It's sort of a custom with us."
"Oh, sure. Sure. Just a minute." He disappeared into the bedroom, came back with two envelopes, handed one to each of the girls. "Open it and count it if you like. It's all there. And I slipped an extra twenty in each. Give us a good show tonight, and there'll be a little more. My buddy's never seen anything like it before."
Deedee tucked her envelope into her purse without examining it. "What do you boys do after we leave?" she asked, innocently. "Go to bed together?"
The man flushed, not answering. Deedee made "tsk-tsk" sounds, half-amusedly, then wandered over to the elaborate and well-stocked bar, almost outsized in the apartment. She stood, looking at the many bottles and thought lightly that it might help her get through the evening's performance if she could get a little tipsy first. She poured half a highball glass full of bonded bourbon and downed it in two gulps, poured a bit of water in the glass and chased it. Then she lit a cigarette and sat back, letting the bourbon warm her, soothe her, comfort her.
Sandy and the John were laughing at some private joke, then they came over and joined at her the bar. He stepped behind the bar, rubbing his hands, winking good-humoredly at both girls. "Now for that drinkie-winkie," he said. "Who wants what?"
As Deedee looked up to reply, a bit of anticipatory spittle rolled down the chin of their sponsor. Suddenly she knew that she was going to get very, very drunk.