The Good Life

by Gordon Merrick

  “Are you a friend of Moss?” he asked.

  “No. We just met. He doesn’t even know my name.”

  “I do. Perry Langham. It’s a name I’ll remember. I saw you talking to him. I’ve had my eye on you. Will you have dinner with me one night soon?”

  “My God, yes, Mr. Porter. I’d love to.”

  “How delightful. You say it as if you meant it. Please call me Cole unless you want me to call you Mr. Langham.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Cole. The only trouble is, I’m about to go to Europe. If I get too busy, will you remember me in the fall?”

  “I’m quite sure I will. Try to make it before you go if you can.”

  “Don’t worry. I can probably cancel if anything gets in the way.” Perry was pleasantly surprised. He had made an impression after all. He might need somebody to fall back on before the summer was over. “Do you want to sit down? Can I help?”

  “A nuisance, isn’t it? I can manage, although I’m not ready to begin the beguine. I rather stupidly fell off a horse.”

  “I hope it gets well soon. I love the song.”

  “I rather forced that, didn’t I? Thank you for picking up your cue.”

  “I meant it. Can I call you in any case, Cole? I’d like to see you again.”

  “I’m glad. Don’t think for a minute that just because I’m the most successful songwriter in the world I don’t like flattery.” He took out a gold-cornered notecase and handed Perry a card. “Those are my most secret numbers, known only to a few thousand people. Guard them with your life.” He hobbled away.

  Perry circled Gloria Swanson a couple of times, trying to find a trace of the face he remembered, without success. She didn’t look old. She just didn’t look like the same person.

  He noticed the gathering beginning to thin out and wondered how long he was expected to stay. All of a sudden waiters withdrew, carrying empty glasses, and he found himself alone in the big room. He was appalled by the possibility that Clifton thought he had gone too. He wondered if he could sneak out without getting caught.

  He’d started cautiously for the entrance hall when Clifton came hurrying back and took both of his hands in his.

  “Excuse me, dear boy. I was pushing the last ones out the door. Parties like that sometimes seem interminable.”

  “I wasn’t sure I should stay so long.”

  “Of course. I asked you to. It’s divine of you. It’s what I was hoping for. I told them to leave some real sandwiches. Let’s eat them and bitch everybody.”

  He led Perry by the hand to a table against the wall and took a napkin off a platter that was heaped with thick sandwiches. They switched to wine, ate the sandwiches, talked about everybody, and predictably were soon in an elegant bedroom with Clifton’s velvet mouth all over Perry’s naked body.

  Suddenly May belle’s voice shrieked through the apartment.

  “Webb! Webb!” she cried, causing Perry to jump and glance over his shoulder.

  “Bloody parrot,” Clifton muttered.

  “Parrot?” Perry repeated, shaken. The voice seemed to come on cue just as they both were near orgasm.

  “It’s Lily, the parrot,” Clifton explained. “She thinks she’s my mother. I sometimes wish she were. There’s no law against strangling a parrot. Don’t worry. I’ve sent mother to bed.”

  Perry burst out laughing, and Clifton joined in.

  “Such a handsome lad.” Clifton leaned back over Perry and applied his skill with titillating effect, murmuring, “Irresistible. Lovely. Divine.”

  Perry moaned as he was teased and tantalized toward climax, bringing Clifton along with him with his hand and eventually using his own mouth with surprisingly little reluctance.

  Perry lay back and let Clifton caress his body in the lethargic aftermath, listening to the sounds of the city outside. It had become a hospitable sound.

  “You’re a delight,” Clifton said finally. “Boys of your age are so often very selfish. You’re angelic to share your pleasure with me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a hit. I’ll give you a good review.”

  Perry dressed, and Clifton accompanied him to the door. “I’ve had a wonderful evening. Thank you,” Perry said.

  “I’ll be looking forward to good times in the fall. Have a divine summer.” They kissed before Clifton opened the door for him.

  Perry thought Clifton would remember him. He didn’t see how he could hold people’s interest if he didn’t give them a sample of the pleasure he could offer. It seemed to him an advantage that he hadn’t really wanted any of the men he had given himself to. Only a few times had he felt the homosexual urge in him. May be it would develop. Billy seemed to want it to.

  Meanwhile, he was free to find pleasure in the pleasure he could give to others. He loved having something that people wanted. He went home thinking of the glamorous future that was within his grasp.

  He had bought a pocket engagement book at Mark Cross and began to make entries in it. A package from Mark Cross came for him. It was too big to be another address book by mistake. It was a beautifully fitted toilet case from Clifton. “In memory of a happy weekend in Atlantic City,” he had written. Perry laughed. Clifton would remember.

  “I hear you’re getting to be quite a conversation piece,” Billy said one midday when they met for drinks downstairs. “The new stud in town with the big cock. People are beginning to boast about having had you. It’s all very well if they continue to boast, but if you let everybody have you, there won’t be anything left to boast about.”

  “There haven’t been so many,” Perry protested, blushing.

  “I was undoubtedly mistaken, but I understood that boys — men — didn’t particularly interest you.”

  “I’m learning.”

  “I’m glad. I think life generally will be happier if you let your homosexuality prevail, but ours is a delicate relationship, and we must act accordingly. It would be unfortunate for you to convince me that you can do very well without me.”

  Perry’s heart skipped a beat as he heard a note of warning in Billy’s voice for the first time. Unprepared for it, he blurted, “Well, you know I can’t, so there’s nothing to worry about. Who am I? Billy Vernon’s kept boy. Everybody knows it.” Instinctively he immediately regretted what sounded like groveling.

  “You’re a credit to me. I’m very proud of you. I’ll look rather foolish if people get the impression that I’m keeping you as a plaything for the whole town.”

  Perry looked at him levelly for a long, silent moment. He saw him fidget. Perry’s heart began to pound as he prepared to meet the challenge head on. He hated Billy for making him feel threatened. Didn’t he understand that he needed some sense of security?

  When he spoke he kept his voice cold and tried to inject a hint of menace into it. Fear and guilt were his weapons. “You know perfectly well the impression people have. When they look at me, they think of sex. May be they want me so they can find out if I’m worth being kept. I want to feel that you’re determined to keep me no matter what. If you can’t give me that, the rest isn’t worth anything. We both know you can throw me out. Do you think it’s pleasant to live with?”

  “Good heavens, dearest boy. I wouldn’t—”

  “No, let’s get it straight.” Thinking of everything that was at stake, he took a deep breath to calm the pounding in his heart. He knew he had Billy on the run. “You told me you wanted me to make friends. You can’t make friends without some give and take. What do you expect me to do if men want me? It’s nothing new. I can’t pretend to be shocked. May be that gives them the idea that I can be had. Sometimes I can be. Just don’t threaten me. If I were going to beat you for real, I wouldn’t threaten. I’d do it. Remember that if you ever think you might be pushing me too far.”

  “I don’t know what you took as a threat. I simply don’t want you to become known as too easy to get. Again, it’s a question of your gentlemanly instincts. I know I can count on you.”

  Perry looked at him in s
ilence again, waiting for his heart to subside. He finally spoke. “Okay. I’ve been meaning to call Cole Porter. I will now. You can listen if you want.”

  He went to the phone and checked his address book and called a secret number. A man answered, and Perry asked for Mr. Porter.

  “Speaking.”

  “Cole? Hello. This is Perry Langham. Remember?”

  “Of course. I’ve been hoping to hear from you.”

  “I waited to call while I was trying to work things out. It looks impossible. I have only four days left until I sail.”

  “I’m crushed, but I know how things are. Clifton has been raving about you. You’ve quite captured his girlish heart.”

  Perry laughed. “That’s nice to know. Can I count on dinner when I get back?”

  “You sound worth waiting for. I suspected you were even before Clifton took charge of your public relations.”

  “I’d like to give you a chance to find out for yourself. If you don’t ask me to dinner, I’ll ask you.”

  “Even better. That makes two dinners. You’re a lamb to call. Have a heavenly summer and don’t start any wars.” He hung up.

  Perry turned to Billy with a shrug. The storm within him had passed. “That’s one who won’t find me easy to get. May be if you made me feel more that you want to keep me for yourself, I’d stop looking for rich men to replace you.”

  “You’re quite extraordinary, my dearest boy. I may even have met my match. I have a present for you to show you that I never stop wanting to keep you for myself.”

  He rose and went to the desk and handed Perry a familiar black velvet box. It contained a set of black-pearl-and-gold studs and cufflinks.

  “My God, Billy. How beautiful. Nobody else gives me things like that. Clifton sent me a toilet case. Very nice but not in the same class.” They both laughed. “I’ll wear them for Maxine Elliott tonight. That should impress her.”

  He knew that Billy wanted him to make a good impression on Maxine Elliott. He wanted to too. She was a friend of Billy’s in the south of France. She was here, like Billy, for only a short visit. Alexander Woollcott had talked about her on the radio. She had been a famous American beauty and an actress. She was said to have been J.P. Morgan’s mistress, and he had handled her financial affairs. The story was that she had been touring in some play before the World War when she heard that her fortune had gone over the million-dollar mark. She had closed the play and packed up and gone to Europe, where she had become King Edward VII’s mistress.

  A fashionable whore. Perry thought they should have something in common, except that she made a million dollars. He hadn’t learned this trick yet.

  “Maxine’s the perfect person to wear them for. She’ll know they’re real,” Billy said. “Unfortunately, she missed sailing with us by a week. She’ll catch up with us in Cannes.”

  Their thoughts were increasingly focused on Europe as departure time approached. It was actually going to happen. Nothing could go wrong now, although skirmishes with Billy still exhausted him. He had survived another, and it seemed about time for him to be able to take them in his stride. He knew he was always going to win.

  Perry threw his arms around Billy and gave him a kiss to thank him for the gift. “My heart belongs to Daddy,” he exclaimed exuberantly. “We’re going to Europe, Billy. How fabulous. Has Bet said anything about me?” He was aware of a note of apprehension in his voice.

  “What would she say?” Billy asked with a shrug. “She’s looking forward to meeting you. Of course, she’s old enough to know that your being with me is a bit special. I don’t suppose she expects a summer romance.”

  Billy said it with the edge of warning Perry had noticed before when Bet was mentioned, as if he were treading on dangerous territory. It made Perry restless and vaguely annoyed. He didn’t like being warned off people. Particularly Bet. He felt he already had an important relationship with her. The best thing he knew about her was that she was going to be there. That and the fact that she was Billy’s daughter. Family. She was bound to be tempting unless she was actively unattractive in some way. A yacht in the Mediterranean. It was a good start.

  The momentous day of departure came. Laszlo helped them with their last-minute packing, and they had one of Laszlo’s light lunches. The weather was less brilliant than it had been, cloudy with a crisp wind. Billy’s mother was sending the car to take them to the dock.

  “I’m glad it’s afternoon sailing,” Billy said. “Midnight sailings can be wonderfully festive, but it takes the rest of the crossing to recover.”

  Perry took charge of the tickets. The car arrived. It was an incredible old Lincoln town car that looked more like a two-story house with an uncovered outhouse attached to the front for the uniformed chauffeur.

  “Mother and her chauffeur-be-damned car,” Billy said. “Nothing will convince her that she should donate it to a museum.”

  Laszlo and the chauffeur loaded the luggage in a rack on the roof. Billy had only one more piece than Perry. He had left things on the yacht. The luggage stowed, Laszlo joined them again. “Don’t forget your coat, Mr. Vernon,” he said. “I’ve checked your room.” He turned to Perry. “I’d better do the same for yours.” They exchanged a look.

  “I’ll come with you,” Perry said. They ran upstairs together and put their arms around each other in Perry’s room. “I wish you were coming. I’m on the payroll too, so I wouldn’t feel right about tipping you the way you say I should with the help. I’ll bring you a present from France.”

  “You do that, love. You’re going to have a wonderful summer. Have you forgotten anything?”

  “No, I checked. I’ll remember everything you’ve taught me.” They laughed and hugged affectionately, and he returned to Billy.

  “Off we go,” Perry said jauntily, putting on his straw boater. They went out and were engulfed by the car and set off across town. Perry felt very strange driving through the familiar neighborhood on an ordinary summer afternoon in New York on his way to Europe. He peered out from the upholstered depths at the ordinary people going about their ordinary business, and he wanted to shout at them, “I’m going to Europe!”

  As they approached the docks, they were caught in a great bustle of activity. Cars were drawing to a halt, creating a traffic jam in front of a gloomy warehouse of a building. Luggage was being unloaded amid swarming porters.

  The great black wall of the ship towered beside the warehouse. Perry craned his neck. It was enormous. Billy referred to the Mauretania as “one of the small liners.” Perry wondered what one of the big ones looked like.

  The majestic Lincoln inched toward the curb, and they were jolted by an abrupt application of the brakes as a taxi swerved in front of them. From beside the window Billy lifted something that looked like a listening piece of a telephone and spoke into it. “Don’t scratch the heirloom, O’Malley. We’ve plenty of time.” The chauffeur on the other side of the glass partition touched the visor of his cap.

  Billy opened a cabinet in front of him and took out a decanter and two shot glasses. He filled one and handed it to Perry. He filled the other and returned the decanter to the cabinet and sat back. “A restorative brandy,” he said. “Our ancestors had time to think of detail.”

  Stationary, they could hear the chaos of sound outside, shouts, tooting horns, bursts of laughter from arriving passengers, impatient blasts from ships’ whistles in the harbor. It smelled of the sea. There was an intense, poignant gaiety in the air, the excitement of voyages and departure.

  Glass in hand, Perry felt as if he were losing his mind. What was happening to him? How had he managed it? He was disguised as a first-class passenger bound for Europe.

  He reminded himself where he was and how he had got there. He glanced around him at the elegant upholstery and woodwork and shook his head. The ghastly trailer that he’d shared with his mother, father, and adoring younger sister would almost fit in this space where he sat with Billy sipping brandy. How had the Langhams managed,
the four of them packed into that smelly metal cell? Was that sort of existence really over, or could he find himself back in those unbelievable circumstances once more?

  Due to heavy bookings, Perry had been forced to take a first-class cabin instead of a suite for his first trip to Europe. Poor me, he thought and snorted at the incongruity of his life. His family had been lucky enough to make it to California from the Dust Bowl of the Midwest only four years ago.

  PART TWO

  EUROPE, 1939

  The great hearse of a car finally reached the curb. Billy dropped the empty glasses into their slots, and they stepped out after the driver had commandeered porters and opened the door. Through a cavernous warehouse, alongside the tall ship now stretching an incredible distance out toward the river, they passed crisply uniformed officers or stewards, who greeted them respectfully, some remembering Billy from past crossings, and bowed them aboard from the covered gangplank marked FIRST CLASS.

  They entered a palace. Perry had an impression of overwhelming muted luxury — dark paneling, gleaming mirrors, a sweeping staircase, glittering chandeliers, thick carpets. He didn’t see how it could all float. They were escorted along a wide corridor and stopped in front of a door marked D. The steward opened it.

  “I’m George, Mr. Vernon. Remember?” Billy nodded and beamed. “I’ll be here during the day to take care of you. Herbert will be along in a, little while for the evening. Just give us a buzz whenever you want anything, sir. Now, if Mr. Langham will come along here, I’ll get him settled. There are several telegrams waiting for both gentlemen.”

  “Come back as soon as you’re ready for a drink,” Billy said to Perry. “Which is soon, I hope.”

  Perry followed George a few doors along to his cabin. It gleamed with mirrors and paneling. There was a comfortable-looking bed, a mirrored dressing table, a desk where Perry saw a couple of telegrams, a built-in chest of drawers, two armchairs. There was plenty of room to swing a cat. His bags were already there.