The Good Life

by Gordon Merrick

  “It’s high time, Billy,” Jeremy said. “The season can begin now. Did you get our note?”

  “I read it just an hour ago. Bet’s coming. We’ll be available for invitations as soon as she gets here. You remember her.”

  “Of course,” Jeremy agreed. “A perfect brat. I adored her. Then you’ll be three? Shall we say dinner on Friday?”

  “Lovely. Tell the boy what you want to drink.”

  They did so. Michael watched Sylvain’s retreating back. “A dish. You’re outdoing yourself this season, Billy. What finally happened to Jean-Marie?”

  “The less said about that the better.”

  “Poor Billy. You do lead a fraught life. Have you seen Marlene?”

  “Is she here?”

  “Yes indeed. Right along there on a dear little boat.” Michael pointed in the direction where Perry thought he’d seen people on a couple of the boats. “She’s with one of those French cinema stars with only one name — Raimu or Fernandel or one of those.”

  “It must be Gabin, although he has two names.”

  “It’s immaterial. He doesn’t utter. She came out to the house the other night and charmed every single bird out of our trees. We ran into her yesterday, and she as good as cut us dead. I’ve given up thinking of her as a human being. She’s a kraut. You don’t expect krauts to act like human beings. I do hope we don’t have to shoot her if there’s a war. But still—” Michael appeared to contemplate the possibility with a certain amount of relish and made them all laugh.

  They drank and chatted, and Perry, looking up at the stars that were beginning to appear and hearing the faint slap of water against the hull, felt touched by magic. It didn’t seem possible that life could be like this for long, but the two visitors seemed to take it for granted. They had a house here and had lived together in it for a number of years, another self-declared male couple.

  The attitude toward such arrangements was evidently different in Europe than at home. European homosexuals didn’t isolate themselves in all-male communities but took part in a mixed social life. Perry could understand why Billy preferred to live in France. He already felt much less self-conscious about being with a man. Bet would probably think nothing of it.

  The guests excused themselves in due course with an exchange of affectionate welcomes all around and references to the dinner in a few days. “Give Bettina a peck on the cheek for us,” one of them said.

  “I daresay she’s quite a young lady by now,” said the other. “She’ll be married before we know it. Dear me. Are you quite ready to be a grandfather, Billy?”

  They embraced Billy again and then Perry. He responded, assuming that it was the accepted thing. They were in full view of the port, not to mention Sylvain. Nobody could see the special little pressures that were applied to his body as the two let go of him.

  When they were gone, he and Billy agreed that they were entertaining and attractive. Billy rattled his ice in his glass. “Shall we freshen these for the road? I’m about ready for dinner.”

  “Me too. I can even do without a freshener if you want to go.”

  “Let’s not do anything hasty.” He waved his glass at Sylvain, who hurried across the deck to them. Perry avoided his eye. He didn’t want to share any knowing or conniving looks with him. He hoped Billy would let them keep their distance from the handsome cabin boy.

  A sizable crowd in gay holiday attire was spread out along the quay at café tables. The air was lively with music, most notably in front of a place called the Pirate next to the more crowded Senequier’s. Moving into the scene after observing it from the lofty isolation of the deck turned it into a different place. People looked as if they were having fun. Bursts of laughter erupted around them. Perry could feel a festive tension building up as if the evening were just beginning.

  Billy frequently exchanged waves with seated customers at the cafés they passed. Several times men rose and came out through the tables to shake hands.

  “You’re a celebrity, Billy,” Perry commented.

  “You see why I like to be back. They make you feel welcome. I doubt if any of them know my name except possibly the manager of the bank. I’m known simply as ‘l’américain,’ as if I were as famous as Marlene. It gives me a simple-minded kick.”

  “I like it. I like everything here. I like having a party waiting for us when we get off the boat. If we get bored, we can go back on board. It’s perfect.”

  Billy led them to a tiny restaurant up a side street, where they ate what Billy insisted was “the best simple French family cooking” he’d ever found in a restaurant. If this was simple family fare, Perry wanted to be adopted.

  They had something called morilles, which Billy said were a kind of mushroom served in a pie covered with cream that made Perry forget his love affair with caviar. The cook was Madame Didine, who leaned comfortably against their table and gossiped with Billy while they ate. After a superb fish stuffed with fennel, a liquid Camembert, peaches that made Perry wonder what the things generally called peaches really were, and a great deal of wine, both red and white (which Billy claimed were local vintages known only to Madame Didine), Perry sat back with a sigh and sipped his café filtre.

  “Right. You have to go back to New York,” Perry said. “I don’t. I’ll wait for you right here.”

  Billy smiled at him fondly. “Are you planning on a tour of the local hot spots?”

  “I thought of it, but I’m not sure. I was up pretty early, and it’s after 11. How about you?”

  “I think not tonight. To tell you the truth, there’s something on board that rather interests me. Do you want to look at it with me? This isn’t a very good place to talk about it.”

  “A mystery. You can’t send me off to the hot spots now.”

  “You must have guessed that Alexis brought me something this morning, didn’t you?”

  Perry smiled slyly at him. “I thought you gave him a fish.”

  Billy uttered a hoot of laughter. “You noticed that, did you? You don’t miss much. He had a package for me under his shopping. The fish tried to escape when he was getting it out.”

  “Fascinating. Shall we go home so you can tell me all about it?”

  Perry rose and abruptly sat down again, narrowly missing his chair. He giggled. “Well. That seems to require a little thought. I did have quite a few drinks before dinner. You do it, Billy. I’ll watch.” Billy rose smartly and stood smiling down at him. “It looks quite easy. May be I forgot to do something the first time. We’ll give it another try.”

  He got slowly to his feet with a prudent hand on the table while he adjusted to the shift in equilibrium. He nodded as confidence returned. “There we are. It’s really quite easy. I don’t think I’ll fall in port. Catch me if my feet develop a will of their own. Off we go.”

  They made their way back to the boat without incident and found Sylvain waiting for them at the top of the gangplank, holding up a piece of paper. He handed it to Billy as they stepped onto the deck. “Your daughter, sir. She told me to give it to you,” he announced importantly.

  “My daughter? Where is she? Is she in her cabin?”

  “No, sir. She went. She says she explains in that letter.”

  Billy unfolded the sheet of paper and held it up to the light from the port. He muttered something and handed it to Perry. “When was she here?” he asked Sylvain.

  “Soon after you left, sir. She stayed only to write that. She returns tomorrow.”

  “So she says. Very good. You’d better give me a drink. How about it, dear Perry?” He headed back to one of the chairs on deck. Perry read the few words scrawled on a torn sheet of paper. She had come and found no message for her. She would stay with Paul and Belinda and would be back the next day around noon. Perry sat beside Billy and handed back the note.

  “She’s being very naughty,” Billy said crossly. “She knows perfectly well she was supposed to come directly to me from Monique and was not to make any other plans without my permi
ssion. Who in the world are Paul and Belinda? More to the point, where are they?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. They haven’t entered the picture before?”

  “I’ll think hard, but I’m quite sure not. Dear me, I hate to play the indignant parent the minute she arrives, but what can I do? I do hope she hasn’t eloped. Arlene would never forgive me. Thank you, Sylvain.” He looked up at the sailor as he took the tinkling glass that was offered him. “My daughter didn’t say anything about where she was going?”

  “No, sir. That is, I heard her say to the young lady, ‘We’ll be there in no time. It’s not too late for dinner.’ Something like that. I may not have the words exactly right.”

  “Thank you, Sylvain. That’s very sharp of you. Now bring Mr. Langham a drink. We’re both under a severe strain.”

  Perry suppressed a giggle. Billy wasn’t as worried as he looked. “I must say, these dramatic events have sobered me up,” Perry said. “Does anybody ever have brandy with ice and water?”

  “The French don’t approve, but it’s not unheard-of. Quickly, Sylvain. To the rescue.”

  “It doesn’t sound very wicked, Billy. After all, she wasn’t supposed to be here today.”

  “Exactly. Why is she? I never expect to be right when I’m coping with the young.”

  “Well, you can’t do anything tonight, so you might as well—”

  Billy cut him off by turning to Sylvain, who returned with the brandy and water. “Was there a young man with the young ladies?”

  Unaccustomed to losing Billy’s attention, Perry took the drink and withdrew from the conversation while he gave the competition a guarded inspection. Big long-lashed eyes. Short, straight nose. A sexy mouth. His skin was a beautiful, rich dark honey color. The kind of looks that transcended distinctions of gender. Sylvain was obviously enjoying his moment in the spotlight, convincingly playing the part of devoted retainer. The arrogance was gone in favor of attentive deference. Perry could see that Billy was already enchanted by the boy. A clever whore. It took one to know one.

  “I didn’t see much of the man,” Sylvain said. “As far as I know, he stayed in the car.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “I didn’t particularly notice, sir. A big car. It was carelessly parked across the way as if it wasn’t going to be left there long.”

  Perry had the impression that Billy was prolonging the interrogation for the pleasure of talking to the young man. Perry was too pleasantly insulated by his drunken haze to care much, however.

  “Thank you, Sylvain,” Billy said finally. “You’ve been very helpful. I won’t forget.” He turned back to Perry. “Let’s go below. I want to show you what Alexis brought me.”

  “I’m fascinated, Billy. Have you stopped worrying about Bet?”

  “I have to go through it for form’s sake, but as you know I wasn’t deeply concerned. I don’t always agree with Arlene’s attempts at strict surveillance. Bet can take care of herself.”

  “You’re very sensible, Billy. I don’t guess mothers usually are. I was lucky.”

  “Mothers usually are more careful with their sons. Come along. Let us break some more rules.”

  “So that’s what we’re going to do.” He pulled himself to his feet without much difficulty and touched the back of a chair for a moment to make sure that everything was in working order before setting off across the deck at Billy’s side. He was determined not to show any signs of wear and tear in front of Sylvain.

  Billy closed the door of his cabin behind them. From one of the built-in cupboards, he took out a number of unfamiliar objects — two long, straight carved wooden pipes with ornate metal bowls at the end, something that looked like a small burner, a decorative bowl, and a silver spoon.

  “What’s all this, Billy?”

  He opened a drawer and took out what looked like a child’s shoe-box. He opened it and held it out to Perry. Inside there was a block of something dark and slightly oily-looking. “There it is. According to Alexis, half a kilo of the best.”

  “The best what?”

  “Opium.”

  “Opium? You mean opium as in opium den? You smoke it?”

  “Less than I used to. A few years ago I began to overdo it. I had some difficulty breaking myself of the habit. Nothing to worry about now. Alexis bought some for me because he thought I might like to have it waiting for me. Most considerate of him. Of course, he makes a little something on the deal. I’m delighted to be able to help him. We might enjoy sharing a pipe from time to time.”

  “What’s it do to you? It won’t turn me into a drug fiend?”

  “You don’t strike me as the sort who would become easily addicted, but we’ll take care. If anything, you might be disappointed in it. It doesn’t generally do anything particularly dramatic, no lurid dreams and all that sort of thing. Just an extraordinary sense of well-being and total inner peace.”

  “It doesn’t sound like marijuana. I go wild on that. It’s an aphrodisiac too. I wanted to make love to the entire world.”

  “Opium is more subtle — a sensation for the discriminating. For the rich I might add. It’s expensive. Most men say it makes them temporarily impotent.”

  “I don’t think I want to be that discriminating,” Perry said.

  Billy’s eyes twinkled. “It would be an interesting novelty for you. Shall we try a pipe? I’ve been looking forward to sharing it with you.”

  Perry was touched. He moved to Billy and put an arm around his shoulders. All his little burgeoning resentments of the cabin boy were ridiculous. Why shouldn’t Billy be attracted to beautiful young men? They were a dime a dozen. He was Billy’s chosen companion and confidant. Irreplaceable. He had nothing to worry about.

  “Okay, Billy. I’m ready for anything. It’s against the law, isn’t it?”

  “Very much so. That fish wasn’t there for nothing. I’m going to put on a dressing gown. Why don’t you? It’s better if you’re not wearing binding clothes. You should be able to float free.”

  “Especially if the police are after you. I’ll be right back.”

  When he returned to the master cabin, naked except for his dressing gown, Billy was busy with the pipes. The burner was lit, and Billy was holding the bowl over the flame. He pushed at the lump of thick dark gum in it with a delicate silver scalpel. He looked up at Perry with a welcoming smile. “Stretch out, my dearest,” he said. “It’s almost ready.”

  Perry stretched out on the bed and pushed a pillow up behind his head. “Tell me what you’re doing, Billy. I don’t want to become a drug addict without knowing what’s going on.”

  Billy waved the bowl and scalpel at him. “I’m melting a lump of the stuff. When it’s ready I’ll shape it into a neat little ball and pop it into the pipe. When you draw on it, take a deep breath and hold the smoke as long as you can. It’s the same with pot.”

  “I can’t wait to find out what it’s like.”

  “I doubt if you’ll feel much of anything at first. It’ll probably take a second pipe to give you the extraordinary feeling of…elation isn’t quite it. Something quite blissful that you might not connect with the opium until you get used to it and expect it. We’ll see.”

  He deftly transferred the drug from the fire into the pipe and took a long pull on it. He smiled beatifically as he held the smoke in his lungs and let it go with a chuckle.

  “How lovely to indulge myself again. Bless Alexis. He can be counted on to know the right people.” He dropped onto the bed beside Perry and handed him the pipe.

  It was slender but over a foot long, heavily embossed with antique silver decorations. Perry drew smoke deep into his lungs and held it while Billy took another turn with it. They lay still beside each other, letting the smoke seep through them.

  Billy was right; there was something very companionable about peacefully breaking the law together. They were genuinely committed to each other. This was life, lolling on a yacht on the Mediterranean, practically naked and s
moking opium. A rich man’s vice. He had come a long way in a month. What next?

  They took turns on the pipe until it was finished, then simply lay in a state of mindless inertia. Billy stirred eventually and sat up.

  “How good it is,” he sighed. “We’ll have another. Are you enjoying it, my dearest?”

  “I think so, Billy, but I can’t be sure. I was pretty plastered after dinner. I think I’m almost asleep, and yet my mind is working after a fashion. My legs and arms feel so heavy. Is that part of it?”

  “I imagine so.” He lit the burner and sliced off another piece from the block of opium into the heating bowl. “We’ll see how you feel after a second one. That should be enough for the first time. I know I’m better off if I don’t go over three.”

  “Is it very habit-forming?”

  “Very insidious. I didn’t think anything of it at first. Little by little I began to crave it. Breaking the habit can be a nightmare. I won’t let us be careless about it. I’ve learned my lesson.” He wielded his scalpel and took a draw on the replenished pipe before handing it to Perry.

  Perry tried to pinpoint his reaction, but his mind kept tilting and spinning off into an abyss. He had to make a constant effort to pull himself back from the edge of unconsciousness.

  After a few more turns, he became aware of unprovoked lust beginning to ruffle the surface of what had seemed his perfect tranquillity. His cock stirred and acquired vigor. No erotic visions intruded on the innocent blank of his drifting mind as his erection locked into position on his belly.

  “Did you say impotent?” he asked, throwing back his dressing gown and lifting his hips.

  “I might have known it would have quite the opposite effect on you. What a splendid creature you are. I’d like to watch a beautiful boy making love to you.”

  Perry stretched voluptuously, smiling with vague benevolence, and pulled himself to his knees. It required more effort than seemed reasonable. He let the dressing gown slide off him and straightened, making an indolent display of his potent nakedness. He wondered if Billy were providing an imaginary lover to complete the picture — he had a pretty good idea who it would be.