“IT’S A BAD IDEA,” Raynaud said.
“Bloody hell,” Pierce said.
“Too many people. Too hard to keep track of you.”
“Bloody hell,” Pierce said.
“Anyone would have a dozen opportunities. I would be powerless to stop them.”
“Listen,” Pierce said. “You were hired to protect me, not ruin my life.”
“I’m just telling you, is all. It’s a bad idea.”
“And I’m paying you five hundred a day to look after me. Anywhere I go.”
Raynaud sighed. “How many will be there?”
“Fifty. A hundred. I don’t know.”
“Many people know you’re going?”
“Some.”
“No,” Raynaud said.
“Now look, lad, you can carry this thing too far. I intend to go to the party. Susan Locke is a dear friend.”
Susan Locke was the owner of a new boutique, The Chastity Belt, which was opening on King’s Road in Chelsea. Pierce had been fiddling with the invitation all day, playing with it, staring at it.
“No,” Raynaud said.
“Not only that,” Pierce said, “but I intend that you should have some fun. I want you to take a girl yourself.”
“No. Impossible.”
“It will improve your spirits.”
“It will decrease your chances of survival.”
“Charles, for Christ’s sake, be human.”
“You’ve paid me to do a job.”
“And you’ll do it my way.”
Raynaud said, “I’d feel terrible if something happened to you.”
“Bloody hell. Only because I wouldn’t pay you the rest of the—”
He broke off, snapped his fingers, and wrote a check quickly.
“One thousand pounds,” he said. “A further advance. Now will you go to the party?”
Raynaud took the check. “Yes.”
“And take Pet?”
“Pet?”
“Yes. I think she’s the logical one for you. You’ll adore her. Such a firm pair.”
He grinned and dialed her number.
“Pet? Hello, love, how are you? Yes, I know…Did it go all right? Good…Listen, you free tonight? No, not me. Charles. You remember him? Yes, that’s the one…Right…No, no, he’s not that way at all …Yes, he has one. A Sunbeam, I think. Yes, super. All right….”
He cupped his hand over the phone.
“Listen, Charles. She’s not free for dinner. Can you pick her up at nine?”
“Sure, I suppose so.”
“Good.” He returned to the phone. “It’s all set, love. Nine. Right? See you there.”
He hung up and began to laugh. “You’d better watch yourself, lad. She thought you were a fag.”
“Maybe I am.”
Pierce just laughed, and went into the other room to dress. It was only five in the afternoon; Raynaud said, “Changing already?”
“Yes. I have to go out early.”
“Why?”
“Dominique’s coming in at six-thirty.”
“Dominique? Listen, you’re not thinking of—”
“Of course, lad. She’s come all this way to see swinging London. It’s my duty to show her around. Besides, she needs the money.”
“What about Sandra?”
“What about her?” Pierce said, and laughed. “By the way, it won’t bother you if Dominique stays here, will it? She’ll be in my bedroom.”
“You’re going to keep her here?”
“Sure. Cheaper than a hotel, and more convenient”
“How will you explain that to—”
“I won’t. She won’t ask, and I won’t tell her. She need never know, eh, lad? I’ve got to be at the airport at seven. I’d better change.”
At nine, when he arrived at Pet’s flat in South Ken, she was not ready. She answered the door in her robe, smoking a pipe.
“Come on in. I’ll just be a minute.”
She handed the pipe to him. “Have a drag if you want. I don’t drink, you see. Tried it?”
“Drinking?”
“No. Smoking.”
He nodded.
“Oh, I forgot. You’re from Mexico.”
He sat down and put the pipe on a table. “I think I’ll wait.”
She gave him a quizzical look: “Straight?”
“No. Just tired. It’ll knock me out.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.” She went into the bedroom and he heard her opening drawers. “By the way,” she said, “where did you meet Richard?”
“We’re old friends. From college.”
“Know him well?”
“I don’t know. I suppose. Why?”
“He doesn’t really seem your type, somehow.”
“We get along.”
“Ummm. Was this his idea, or your idea?”
“What?”
“Me, tonight.”
“My idea.”
“That’s good. I was worried.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought he might be planning something with me.”
“That worries you?”
“Yes,” she said. “Come in here and zip me up, would you? And bring the pipe.”
He took the pipe into the bedroom. She was struggling with a short dress in vivid purple trimmed in hot pink. She was staring into the mirror and tugging at the zipper behind.
“Damn,” she said. “I knew I shouldn’t have had lunch today.”
He gave her the pipe and she sucked on it, inhaling deeply. He worked on the zipper.
“I gain weight,” she said, “if I even look at food. Ah. Thank you.”
He pulled the zipper up, and did the snap at the neck.
“Thanks awfully.”
She took another drag of the pipe, and set it on the bureau. Then she started to comb her long, straight blond hair.
“Yes,” she said, looking at him in the mirror, “I was worried. Two years ago, I had a flatmate. Name of Jennifer: Jennifer Olive, her real name, I swear it. She was a secretary at the Swedish Trade Board. A nice girl from Bristol, fresh in from the country. She met Richard and was swept off her feet. Madly in love with him for six months. All she got out of it was three hundred pounds for the abortion, and a goodbye peck on the cheek. He wouldn’t even see her off on the train back to Bristol. I had to do that.”
Pet finished combing her hair, and began collecting lipstick and tissues for her purse.
“She was a very trusting girl, Jennifer. Everybody knew it and tried to watch out for her. She was only bloody seventeen. Richard didn’t care. He got her into that big car of his and she melted. What’d I do with my shoes?”
“Over by the bed.”
“Oh, yes. Christ, this damned stuff’s taking hold. We’d better leave.”
She sat on the bed and pulled on her heels, black patent, T-strap. She stood and twirled for him. “Good?”
“Very good.”
“I always thought I was topheavy, myself. I’ve had these since I was twelve. Shall we go?”
“My car’s in front.”
They got in. He started the car, and they drove in silence for a while. Then she leaned back and sighed. “I always feel amorous,” she said, “when I’m high. Liquor makes me sick, but this stuff…Do you like me?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m glad. I like you, too. By the way, is it true Richard isn’t coming to the party?”
“Who said that?”
“A friend of a friend, who had talked to Sandra. She’s coming, I think. I imagine she wants to see all her friends after a weekend in Wales.”
“Oh.”
“Something wrong?”
“No, no. Nothing.”
She smiled and touched his hand as he drove. “You know what I like about you?”
“What?”
“You didn’t pinch my bottom while you zipped up my dress.”
“Proves nothing,” Raynaud said. “Maybe I’ll pinch it later.”
“Yes,” she said. “Maybe you will.”