Nightwork

I went down to the bar. I needed a drink. Luckily, there was no one I knew there and I sat on a stool in the dim light, staring into my glass. I had thought I could live by accident, taking everything that was offered as it came along - the long tube on the floor of room 602; Evelyn Coates in Washington; Lily in Florence; the outlandish proposition of that not quite certifiably sane man. Miles Fabian, slightly bloodied from where I had broken the lamp over his head; buying a racehorse; investing in a dirty French movie; dabbling in gold and soybeans; saying, 'Why not? ' When Fabian had suggested inviting an unknown British girl to join us; venturing into Swiss real estate; backing him for half, even as I sat there, in a head-to-head poker game against a rich and vengeful American gambler.

But there were limits. And Didi Wales had reached them. I told myself I had behaved honorably - no decent man would take advantage of the freakish, adolescent passion of an unhappy child. But I was nagged, in the quiet of the midnight bar, by a small, disturbing doubt. If Eunice hadn't gone into the room with me to discover Didi lying there, would I be in the bar now? Or still in my room? In retrospect, sitting alone staring into a glass, I had to admit that the girl had been marvelously attractive. Regret played in a little scudding cloud at the outer reaches of my conscience. What would Miles Fabian have done, confronted with a similar situation? Chuckled good-naturedly, said, 'What a charming visit'? Thought, this is my lucky year, and climbed into bed? No doubt.

I resolved not to tell him a word about it. His scorn, tempered only by pity for my scruples, would be unbearable. I could just hear him say, mildly, paternally, 'Finally, Douglas, one must learn the rules of the game.'

Eunice. I broke into a light sweat as I thought of the next morning's breakfast/with Lily and Miles Fabian, and Eunice saying, over the orange juice and coffee cups, 'The most extraordinary thing happened last night when old Gentle Heart and I got back from the party..,'

I finished my drink, signed for it, and started toward the door. Just as I reached it. Lily came in with three enormous men, not one of them under six feet four. I had noticed them at the party and had seen Lily dancing with one of them. This seemed to be her night for size and quantity. She stopped when she saw me. 'I thought I saw you go off with Eunice,' she said.

'I did.'

'And now you're alone?'

I am.'

She shook her head. There was an amused glint in her eye, 'Peculiar man,' she said. 'Do you want to join us?'

'I'm not large enough,' I said.

The three men laughed, their laughter resounding like bowling balls off the bottles behind the bar. 'Have you seen Miles?' Lily asked.

No.'

'He said he'd try to make it for a nightcap by one.' She shrugged. 'I guess he's so immersed in stripping that desperate oaf Sloane of his last penny he can't be bothered with poor little me. Did you like the party?'

'Smashing,' I said.

'It was almost like being in Texas,' she said ambiguously. 'Shall we drink, chaps?'

'I'll order the champagne,' the tallest of the men said, lurching among the tables toward the bar like an ocean liner pulling out of a slip.

'Night, Gentle Heart,' Lily said. 'Persist.' She leaned over and kissed my cheek. Instant memories. I bowed a little and went out.

Ripe for havoc," she had said about Didi Wales. How right she was.

A minute later I was at the door of Eunice's room. I listened, but there was no sound inside. I didn't know what I expected to hear. Weeping? Laughter? Sounds of revelry? I knocked, waited, knocked again.

The door opened. Eunice was standing there in a lace dressing gown. 'Oh, it's you,' she said. Her tone was neither welcoming nor unwelcoming.

'May I come in?'

'If you want.'

'I want.'

She held the door wider and I went in. Her clothes were piled haphazardly all over the room. The window was open and a cold Alpine breeze was whistling in. I shivered a little, my resistance to the elements weakened by the events of the night. 'Aren't you cold?' I asked.

'Remember, I'm English,' she said, But she closed the Window. Full-bodied, bare footed, rustling of lace.

'May I sit down?'

'If you wish.' She indicated a little upholstered chair. Throw those clothes anywhere.'

I picked up the silk dress she had worn at the party. I imagined it was still warm from her skin. I laid it gently across a little writing desk. I sat down on the chair and she lay back against the piled pillows on the bed, her legs revealed as the dressing gown fell away. She had long legs like her sister, but fuller. Shapelier, I thought. I smelled lightly scented soap. She had scrubbed her face when she undressed, and her skin glowed in the light of the bedside lamp.

I mourned for the evening.

'Eunice,' I said, 'I came to explain.'

'You don't have to explain. Somebody got their appointments mixed, that's all.'

'You don't think I asked that little girl to come up to my room, do you?'