Rebel in Time

But it doesn't matter, he said to himself, it doesn't matter at all. He was just going to have to forget that it had ever happened. Even if his suspicions were true there was nothing at all he could do about it. He had to act normal, he must follow routine. There were only a few days to go now. He must not do a thing to draw any further attention to himself. He had to make a positive effort not to vary his lifestyle in any way. It was almost time and he was not going to let any hitches occur at this late date. If all that they had were suspicions, why fine, let them have them. As long as they could be kept at bay until it was too late for them to do a thing.

McCulloch turned sharply away from the window and sat down at his desk. He had a dinner date this evening and he was going to keep it, whether he felt like it or not. But he was going to make one improvement; he smiled at the thought while he dialled the number.

'Marianne, is that you? Right, Wes here. All set for dinner this evening? How's the appetite? It is? Best news ever. Listen, instead of knockwurst at the Old Europe one more time, what do you say to a decent steak at The Jockey Club? You say yes? I thought you would. And I liked that squeak of joy. Of course it's expensive — but have I ever denied you a thing? I'll call now for reservations. Seven on the dot. If I don't call you back it's all set. See you there. In the bar.'

He made the reservations, then spent the rest of the afternoon doing mind-numbing paperwork, keeping doggedly at it until exactly six o'clock. Discipline, that's what made all of the difference. Plus the fact that staying at work filled his mind and prevented him from worrying.

As he went through the offices checking that the lights were all turned off, he saw that most of the staff had gone home. One of the typewriters had been left uncovered, and he called out to the girls who were just going out the door.

'Whose machine is this?'

The three of them turned around, looking at him silently, until Daisy finally spoke up.

'That's mine, that one there.'

That moronic little bitch. 'Haven't I spoken to you before about leaving the machines uncovered at night?'

'Yeah. So I forgot.'

'Did you? In that case there will be five dollars docked from your next pay envelope for causing excessive wear and tear on government property, by permitting it to be exposed to overnight dust. Do you think that will help you remember?'

'You can't do that!' she squealed.

'I've just done it.'

That might make some impression on her dim little brain. She would complain to the union about it, but that wouldn't be his problem. He watched them leave, then turned off the lights and locked up. He hummed to himself as he drove back to the District.

He was just sipping on a second drink when Marianne came in. He signalled to the bartender.

'Another one of these for the lady.'

'Bombay martini on the rocks with a twist. On the way, sir.'

Marianne swept up, smiling, wearing something long and silky, cut fascinatingly low in the front. She put her cheek against his, she knew how he hated the taste and feel of lipstick, then made a kissing sound in the air.

'You look a million in that dress,' he said. 'Something new?'

'No. But this is my super-special, only once-a-year dress. Your call really knocked me over. The Jockey Club, wow! I checked out early and went home, to change. A special occasion, special dress.' They clinked glasses and she took a deep swig from hers and laughed. 'Honestly, Wes, I don't think I'll ever figure you out.'

'Then don't try.'

'We go out, have fun, no complaints. But then all of a sudden out of left field you come up with this.' She waved her hand in a circle. 'And this must be the most expensive place in town.'

'One of them. Don't worry. It goes on the credit card.' He burst out laughing at that, for no reason that she could tell, but she smiled and laughed along with him. This was going to be an evening to remember.

It was, in every way. When she couldn't make up her mind between the steak and the lobster he ordered her a surf-and-turf, then a bottle of French champagne which, as he explained, was the only wine that could possibly go with both dishes. She had a quick look at the price of the wine and couldn't believe it. Maybe she had been wrong about Wes, that he really did like her more than just as a fun date. Stranger things had happened in Washington before. When the crêpes suzette were served she was so full that she could only peck at hers, but watching them being made was exciting, with all the brandy burning and everything.

'Happy?' he asked as he lit one of the black cheroots he had been smoking of late. She laughed and reached out and squeezed his hand.

'That's too tiny a word for it. I don't think I ever enjoyed a meal more. Not since I've been in Washington.'

'Didn't you eat this well back in St Louis?'