Laughter broke out around them. Charlie stole a glance at Sarah. She was sitting slightly withdrawn, a brave little smile playing across her lovely face, but there was something crushed in the way she sat and her eyes were liquid with the suggestion of tears. “Well. Maybe I better try to break it to her gently. Just as a possibility. Peter’s going to have his hands full in Athens.”
“He was looking great today. What a guy. And that broad. You guys have all the fun. Things were really humming between them. You know what? I think I ought to broaden my experience. Take Jeff, for instance. I could almost have had a thing about him. His mouth is like a goddamn jewel. I want to take it and wear it like an ornament. Hey, how’s that for queer? My big problem is, guys don’t seem to go for me.”
“Maybe wearing Jeff’s mouth will help.”
Sid roared with laughter. Charlie smiled and wondered. Humming? It was an apt description of Peter’s euphoric high spirits, but he had never thought of him being like that with a girl. It wasn’t like him to go off without making contact, touching hands, reaffirming their interdependence. Should he go to Athens too? It was important for Peter to be up to date on developments. He didn’t want to look as if he were interfering with Judy, but he was as anxious as Peter to help Costa. Telephoning was out of the question; it took the better part of the day. Peter had said he might come back tomorrow; it would be stupid for them to cross. He didn’t want it to break into his work. No, Peter could handle it.
He took the glass and the little pot of ouzo that had been brought to him and carried them around the table to Sarah. She looked up at him with welcome as he pulled a chair up behind her. She turned in her chair to face him, cutting them off from the others.
“It looks as if the earthquake has shaken us all up,” he said.
“Dear Charlie. I’ve been longing to talk to you. You’ve heard about Jeff? Can you imagine anybody doing such a thing—abducting a boy who’s little more than a child?”
“There may be some reasonable explanation. He didn’t leave any word?”
“Jeff? Just through Sid that we weren’t to worry and that he’d be at Harvard on time. I know George had a talk with him yesterday. Maybe he said something tactless. I’m sure Mike leaped at the chance to take him. I spotted what he was after immediately, but that part of it doesn’t really worry me. Jeff has seen it going on all around him and has never shown the slightest interest. The thought of Mike putting a hand on him makes me quite sick, but Jeff wouldn’t allow anything to happen. Have you ever seen the faintest sign that he might develop in that way?”
“Well, is the idea so loathsome to you? Frankly, yes. I’ve always had the feeling he might.”
“Why? How could you?” Her eyes were more wounded than reproachful. “He’s always been so manly and clean and straight.”
Charlie smiled slightly and held her eyes for a beat or two longer than necessary. “What does that make me, the opposite of all those things?”
“Oh, darling, I’m not talking about you. You and Peter are different. You have Martha and the children.”
Charlie’s smile broadened. “The children? In the beginning, I thought of them as just one more way of making sure Peter wouldn’t stray. Lots of queers have wives and children, if that’s all you’re worried about.”
“Yes, but Mike!”
“I don’t know him, but stop thinking of him as a seducer of children. Jeff’s old enough to know what he wants. Eighteen-year-old boys aren’t turned queer by older men making passes at them. Quite the contrary. You may be right. There may be nothing at all going on between them, but if you don’t want to lose Jeff entirely you’ve got to accept the fact that he might find happiness in ways that could seem odd or even distasteful to you.” He paused and his smoky purple eyes darkened. “I wish somebody had dropped that thought into the heads of some of my female relatives when I was his age.”
Sarah put her hand out impulsively and took his. Her eyes swam with sympathy. “Darling, Charlie. If that’s the way he turns out, I’ll try. Just, pray God, not Mike.”
“I’d probably go along with you there. The age difference is too great, for one thing. What’s all this about George?”
She drew back and folded her hands in her lap and bent her head over them. “It couldn’t be worse, but for some reason I feel more hopeful than I have for a long time. It’s all out in the open at last. We had the most frightful scene last night. He said things I thought he could never say. Ugly. Cruel. He’s apparently off on a binge now. When it’s over, perhaps we’ll be able to talk to each other again. At least he didn’t leave. That’s what I was terrified of.”
“George? Walk out on you? He couldn’t possibly.”
She lifted tear-filled eyes to him. “It’s so difficult to live with a man with strict ideals. He can’t understand that others can’t always live up to them. Haven’t you ever been tempted? You know what I mean.”
He hesitated, arranging the facts to fit the meaning of her words. “No. Not really. I haven’t let myself be. Are you talking about Pavlo?”
She dropped her eyes and nodded. “George can’t possibly know. I just can’t believe I’m so much worse than other people. What about Peter? Did the children keep him from straying?”
“With boys?”
The subject obviously flustered her. “No, of course not. But there was a girl who came here——”
“I know about the girls,” he interrupted. “They’re part of the contract. I know people are naturally promiscuous, men probably more than women. I thought I couldn’t stand living with it, but things work out. I can understand what George has been going through since——”
“He’s made me suffer enough for that,” she interjected.
“When it happened with Peter—with a boy—I thought I could never make him suffer enough. I tore our lives apart and very nearly killed myself into the bargain. That’s when Martha and having the children came into it. I thought having a family would hold us together if the rest of it grew stale with time. George maybe loves less selfishly than I do. I don’t think he’s wanted to make you suffer. If he had, he would’ve fought back the way I did. He’s taken all the suffering into himself. You’ve got to find a way to take it from him. Making eyes at Pavlo isn’t the answer.”
Her eyes darted up to his and dropped again. Her mouth moved. “No,” she murmured. “That’s finished.” She took a deep breath that lifted her breasts, and faced him squarely. “You’ve told me something amazing. I’ll have to think about it before I see exactly what it means. You’re a wonderful person.”
Charlie made a little grimace and looked away. “I’ve looked at myself a lot over the years. There’s nothing very wonderful there.” He felt the coldness hidden away deep within him. Peter was off “humming” with his beautiful girl and he didn’t really mind. For some reason, his indifference made his throat ache. He swallowed. “No matter what we learn, it doesn’t seem to change us much. What it does do is make it possible to act out what we know is right. I try to put on a good act. I don’t mean being in love, loving the family, all that isn’t an act. I think all the civilized, ordered things we bring into our lives—that’s where the act begins. We remain children in lots of ways, bawling our heads off. Gimme this. I want that. Not very dignified.” He watched a hot rosy glow suffuse the houses strung out along the eastern promotory. A silence fell over the assembly as fire sprang up in all the windows. For an instant, every element of rock and wall and tree was sheathed in light and defined with three-dimensional precision. Then the fire was extinguished and the glow began to fade. The sun had set.
Everybody began to talk at once. Charlie turned back to Sarah. “You really shouldn’t worry about Jeff. When Peter gets back, he’ll probably be able to tell you all about it. Why don’t you have Kate stay on with her friend in Athens? Have the house to yourselves for a bit. Make George stop drinking so much. You’re both too intelligent not to work things out.”
“I don’t quite see wha
t I can do about his drinking if he stays with his alcoholic theologian.”
He had always admired her style. There was an astringency in her that cut through the façade of otherworldly nobility she liked to present to the world. He looked into her wide expressive eyes and was briefly reminded of her son. “Something must’ve brought on this new twist. You say he can’t possibly know. There is something he might have found out?”
“I can’t explain it all. I hope you can understand. Yes. Yesterday afternoon. He was with Mike the whole time. I had to get it out of my system.”
Charlie’s expression hardened. “I’ve heard that line before. Christ, Sarah. I don’t know what to say. There’re certain things we can’t get out of our systems but we sure as hell can tie them down, strangle them, even if it means killing something in ourselves. I know you’ve asked him to forgive you for the other time. You can’t go on asking to be forgiven. Make love to him. Make him make love to you. It may sound sort of clinical and calculated, but sometimes it’s the only way to get through.”
“If you only knew how much I’ve longed for it. Why do you think yesterday happened?”
They exchanged a look which, in its recognition of carnality, was as basic as desire. Charlie’s lips twitched with a smile. “Get in there and pitch, baby. Stop acting the model wife and mother. Tear his pants off. Give him everything in the book. You know how to stir a man up as well as I do.”
Their laughter was faintly tremulous with the knowledge they had shared.
“Can you imagine anybody tearing George’s pants off?” she asked. “Where is this unlikely scene supposed to take place, since he won’t come home?”
“If he isn’t home by tomorrow, I’ll go try to reason with him. Peter wouldn’t have any trouble at all.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself. He admires you enormously. Thank you, darling. You’re a great help. I’ll remember everything you’ve said.”
They allowed themselves to be drawn into the group. Charlie stayed on until it was almost time for the children’s supper. His restlessness had passed; Sarah had reminded him that he and Peter had got beyond the petty conflicts that plagued most people.
He laughed and chatted with the children while they ate. He received Peter’s share of kisses when they were being sent off to bed. Little Pete clung to his neck and demanded clamorously, “Daddy, when is Daddy coming home?” as if the child sensed their shared need of his father. He assured the child that this wasn’t to be a long trip and the children were herded off by the young Greek girl who took care of them.
Because they were alone, Martha had Kyria Tula set up a small table on the colonnaded loggia for their dinner. Charlie had a few more ouzos before they ate. Peter had trained Kyria Tula in more sophisticated cooking than that generally known on the island and they had an excellent meal while they gossiped about the gossip gleaned by Charlie on the port. They spoke about Jeff in a way he hadn’t felt free to do with Sarah and they agreed that he might be better off with Mike than he would have been if his infatuation with Dimitri had developed.
They left the table and moved for coffee to comfortable chairs at the outer edge of the loggia so that a vast panorama of star-filled sky and still sea was opened out to them. Charlie carried a bottle of wine with him.
“I’m glad you’ve finally had a serious talk with Sarah,” Martha said. “You think it’s definitely over with Pavlo?”
“Oh, yes, but that’s not much help if George has the slightest suspicion.”
“Can’t you go find him and tell him he’s wrong? She’s not likely to’ve done anything so stupid that he can be sure.”
“Oh, I’ll go talk to him, but Peter would be more effective. I wonder. Peter’ll probably see Jeff this evening sometime. They’re all bound to find each other at the Grande Bretagne. Then he’s got to stir the police into action. The way things work in Athens, he can’t possibly do anything for Costa in less than a day. Plus whatever this Bertin business is. I don’t see how he can be back before day after tomorrow.”
“If then,” Martha said.
“If then?” he repeated. “He said day after tomorrow at the latest.”
“Leave him.” Martha sat back and her body seemed to go slack as if she had performed a heavy chore. She smiled across at him. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Charlie stared at her. He felt the cold steel in his soul. He prayed that she wouldn’t say what she seemed to mean. “I haven’t a clue,” he said.
“Oh, darling.” Her laugh was gay and playful. “You certainly saw it happening last night. I’ve been expecting it for years. He’s fallen in love with her.”
Charlie sprang from his chair and took a turn around the furniture and ended up back at his chair, pouring a glass of wine with hands that trembled slightly. He swallowed half of it in a gulp and felt calm restored. She had said the words and they were completely meaningless. “If you really think that, I don’t quite see what there is to laugh about,” he said reasonably.
“They were so sweet together. It makes me laugh just thinking about them.” A dangerous subject but he seemed in a peaceful mood tonight and she wanted to prepare him for something he would try to avoid seeing for himself. She had never known Peter the way he had been last night. Even in his devotion to Charlie she had never felt in him quite the same electrifying quality. It was doubtless the way he had been way back when he had met Charlie—absurdly young, ardent, aflame. Thinking of him fondly, she said, “Peter really is delicious. And Judy. Her eyes were glued to him the entire evening. She’s fallen for him completely.”
“I told him so myself.” He dismissed Judy with another long swallow of wine and refilled his glass.
“It’s mutual. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have had to know Peter for ten years to recognize all the signs. He’s in love. That’s why I say ‘leave him.’ Give them time to work it out between themselves. Jeff, Costa, Mike Cochran, and those pictures—they’re just excuses for them to get away alone. Maybe he’ll work out some way to include her in the ménage.”
“What ménage? Don’t be ridiculous.” Danger showed through his flat delivery. “Do you think I could live with him if he were in love with somebody else?”
“Don’t say that, darling. We’ve adapted in the past. We accepted a challenge very few people could have managed. We mustn’t lose our flexibility now. Peter finding a girl of his own was to be expected from the beginning.”
“Why? Because he’s discovered it’s fun to go to bed with one occasionally? That has nothing to do with what he really is. Do you suppose I wouldn’t know it quicker than you? We had a talk together while she was here, you know. If you told me he’d fallen in love with—with Jeff, for God’s sake, I might take you a little more seriously.”
“Then you admit you noticed something different about him last night,” she said, still smiling and relaxed and comfortable.
“I don’t admit anything of the sort.” Humming? Running off without coming to speak to him? That in itself proved that nothing was different. If he were going through some big experience, he would have felt bound to come to him. He gripped his glass so hard that he became aware he risked breaking it. Things were happening inside him that he had sworn he would never allow to happen again. He wasn’t with a boy, he reminded himself. “I wish you’d tell me where you’ve got this idiotic idea.” He had expected to hear violence in his voice, but his controls were working so well that it sounded only mildly petulant.
“But darling, it was so obvious. I tell you. I could see it. You must’ve seen it too.”
“Stop saying that,” he shouted. He seized the wine bottle and hurled it across the outdoor living room. It smashed against the wall and a dark stain spread out over the immaculate whitewash. He dropped into the chair and gripped its arms.
“Oh, darling.” Martha rose and hurried to him. She moved in close to him and tried to put an arm around him. He leaped up, pushing her aside roughly, and almost knocked her down. She recovered
her balance and seated herself on the arm of the chair. “This isn’t the way to take it, you know. We have the children to think about.”
“The children!” He turned and faced her, trembling with anguish and rage. “If you don’t know by now that he’s the one who’s kept it all going, you don’t know anything. What would we have without him?”
“We’d have each other.” All the years of making the best of the leftovers hadn’t prepared her for the empty ring of her words. She had always accepted life passively, but now she was seized by unfamiliar anger at being made to feel that she had been given so little. She burst out, “Peter is a man. He’s forty years old. At his age men begin to turn toward youth. Judy’s perfect for him. Beautiful, intelligent, not too feminine in a tiresome way. You should be happy for him. Think what you’d be like in a few more years when the shine of youth is finally gone. Absurd—two aging men clinging to each other.”
“You must be mad,” he said in a strangled voice. “I’m warning you. If you say any more, you’ll finish it once and for all.”
“I’m not saying anything wrong,” she protested defensively, incapable of sustained attack. “I’ve always loved you. I’ve been loyal and done without things that most women think are essential. It hasn’t been a hardship for me. I’ve made the children my life. I’ve always loved your body when you’d let me have it. I remember your saying often enough that sex wasn’t the most important part with Peter. If that ends and you find you want boys from time to time——” She lifted her shoulders slightly. “We can manage.”
“You are mad,” he said, staring at her. “Manage? How do you think we’d look when the shine of youth is gone? An old queen running after boys while his wife tries to cover for him with the children. Children? Do you think Peter would do anything to hurt little Petey? Haven’t you understood anything all this time?”
“Perhaps I understand things you don’t.” The picture he presented so eliminated all care and affection between them that for a moment she floundered. She wasn’t prepared for a fight, but she sensed that if she didn’t fight now there would be nothing left to fight for when he discovered she was right. She said the first thing that came into her head. “You’ve turned yourself into a woman in your efforts to hold him. It’s an insult to your manhood.”
Forth into Light Page 27
