OUIDA WAITED ON THE front lawn. “Is he all right?” she yelled to them. She moved closer to see. Earle sat grinning in the back seat. Then he got out of the car, put his arm round his estranged wife and planted a long kiss on her mouth. She pulled away after a moment, astonished. He had been drinking inside before the jump without any noticeable change coming over him. Now he beamed his new confidence, as if crazy drunk. He sat down and rested under one of the oak trees.
Ouida stood and watched after him until Rinemiller arrived. Alfred came over and talked with Earle for some time, discussing the jump and the peculiar characteristics of the light plane he had piloted. Ouida suggested that Earle go upstairs and bathe, but he continued to sit out under the trees, wearing the mud-smeared overalls like a battle dress.
Willie and Cathryn went to play tennis. One of the men wandered around the grounds, waving the cardboard on which the tournament brackets had been drawn up, stressing the urgency of completing first-round matches before dark. Otherwise, he warned, the next day’s quarter finals would be a mess and there’d be little time for serious drinking.
Roy told George Giffen to wait for him while he went to make a phone call. George walked over to the courts and watched Cathryn’s bosom bounce up and down.
Roy completed his call and wandered down a dark hall toward the front of the house. He met Ouida emerging from the lavatory. She carried a damp towel.
“I thought I’d at least wash that muck off Earle’s face,” she said.
He stared at the towel; he gaped at Ouida; she moved closer and touched his own perspiring forehead with the towel. He was conscious of the profusion of dartweeds and cocklebur that had got lodged inside his trousers during the run across the field. He shifted slightly, scratching his leg. She gave him a great open-mouthed kiss, held on for a minute and then stepped away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding the towel up against his face. She was close to him again; their hips nearly touching; her eyes all soft and wise with understanding; she kissed him again and held the wet cloth to his face. She kept kissing and drawing back a few inches, looking at him and resuming the kiss, her face coming at him, turned to one side and then another. It was like a movie love scene by Hitchcock: all that soft talk going on, mouth to mouth …
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I hadn’t any business …”
“I didn’t know you’d called … That goddam Ellen never …”
“Oh, Roy, I was just so jealous, and everything seemed hopeless, I …” Her hair was gardenia-scented and her fresh mouth tasted of expensive whiskey.
“Things all mixed up …” he said.
“I know … Isn’t it —”
“I should have come on out here last night.”
“God, I wish you had! If you’d only … So ridiculous … I was furious ’cause you didn’t and you were mad at me for being so demanding and we each took it out on the other …”
“I should have driven out.”
“I’ve really no right to pry into your personal life. I shouldn’t care who you’re going to bed with. It’s just that girl I can’t stand. Anyone else …”
“To bed? No, I …”
“Anyone else I don’t think would set me off like it did. God, I’m sorry, dearest … We’re really so much alike, let’s declare a truce. Would you promise me you won’t have anything more to do with her?”
“Sure, I — There’s never … not last night at least … been anything betwee — Not since, Jesus really there —”
“Oh, promise will you, Roy? It’s terrible, what these things do. I hadn’t intended, but last night, after that call, I couldn’t help it … If you’d heard what she said on the phone. I let Alfred make love to me, pretending at first it was you and then beginning to like it and knowing it was him and liking it because it was the worst thing I could think of …”
“Rinemiller? My God, you —”
“He came out last night. That’s why I called. Hoping to get you to come help. He was practically in a state of caterwaul, and pretty soon, after that phone call, I was the same way. Oh Roy, I …”
“Rinemiller? He was here … last night?”
“Yes … It was awful …”
She kissed him again. They were very close in the hallway; piano music had resumed in the main part of the house, and through the windows they could hear the fellow with the tournament card calling off the names of first-round contestants. Her mouth searched his face; the back of her blouse had grown damp against his hand, and the hallway steamed a little.
“I’ll be here again in just a minute,” she said. “Will you wait? Right here? I’ll take this to Earle and be right back. There’s a small bedroom down the other end of this hall. No one knows about it. I’ll take you down there and we’ll lock ourselves in. The hell with all these others … We’ll never have to come out …”
He stood there gasping for an answer. She kissed him once more and then headed toward the front of the house. He stood in the dark for a short time, his face and neck gone sticky with perspiration. He went into the washroom and drew another towel across the flesh under his collar. Then he walked toward the rear of the house to make his phone call. On the grounds in the back, near the courts, he found Giffen.
“Let’s go for a ride in your Alfa,” he said.
Giffen was delighted. He got quickly to his feet and looked around for the car, sighting it at the side of the house.
“I want somebody else to hear your story,” Roy said.
“Listen — I don’t want to get in any trouble …”
“This way,” Roy said, “you can be sure of keeping out of trouble.”
“How’s that?”
“Don’t you want to go visit the Governor?”
“Sure … I always wanted … but …”
“He wants to hear this story,” Roy said. “Old Arthur — him and me, we’re great friends. He’s got a place out here, just up the river, and he wants to talk to you, George.”
Giffen was not yet convinced. He thought about Cathryn’s bosom and the crazy afternoon he’d spent with the lobbyist and bending down to kiss the Archbishop’s hand the week before — all this, the sinful emotions and the righteous ones, nagged at his sense of order. He decided, finally, to go with Roy to see the Governor in the hope that Fenstemaker might in some way relieve him of responsibility. Roy had said earlier he should have told the priest. But what was the point of telling a priest you’d just done the right thing?
They climbed into the roadster and sped toward the main highway.