a certain amount of independence, living from day to day in a kind of inert routine that only Jacqueline kept from degenerating to a level of intolerable despondency.
At first, when she left the department store, she had been afraid that it would alienate Jacqueline, that it would mean the end of the sustaining relationship. But later Jacqueline had met her for cocktails and had laughed and said, “Perhaps it’s just as well, everything considered. Of course it need make no difference at all between us.” And so they continued to meet, for lunch, for dinner, for special engagements that Jacqueline arranged, though less frequently recently than before, and through it all the ivory room, and Jacqueline remained a new center of life in its new direction, as Stella and Stella’s house had been before Stella died. While it was going on, while it was happening, everything was fine, everything was justified by the quality of her mood, but afterward, when she returned alone to the small uptown apartment, she began to fall more and more frequently into deep periods of depression and despair and intense self-hatred that lasted longer and longer before they dispersed. So it was that she came slowly and painfully to the conviction that a break was necessary, and that once the break was made, her life would take still another new direction and become better and better after the first bad time. So it was that she came by delusion necessary to existence to Angus Brunn and death and a dozen soporifics.
The pill worked. Slowly, the imagery of her brain blurring and dissolving and running away, she sank softly into a sleep that was for a while undisturbed. Then, as she rose with time nearer the level of consciousness, this imagery returned distorted, unfocused by the waking mind’s eye, and she began to whimper and toss, now and then crying out, and when the strident four o’clock alarm smashed into her brain, she jerked upright in bed immediately, her heart pounding and her body bathed in sweat.
Reorienting quickly, she went into the bathroom and showered and put on fresh clothing. She had a full hour to reach the Bronze Lounge, but she hurried nevertheless, driven by the unreasonable fear that tardiness might destroy all hope at the last moment. Not until she was in a taxi on the street did she take time to look at her watch, and only then did she realize that she had forty minutes remaining for a trip that would require no more than twenty. She could wait in the lounge, however. It would be pleasant to wait there in security, to take her time with a Sidecar and anticipate the coming of Jacqueline and the miraculous dissipation of a nightmare.
The Bronze Lounge was an unimpeachable spot in a reputable section. It took its name from the type of metal with which it was embellished. There was a lot of burnished bronze grillwork and many large bronze planters in which grew green foliage with broad, shining leaves that looked as if they had been rubbed with oil. All the small items like ash-trays and match-holders and candlesticks were also bronze, or convincing imitations. There was a small dining room separated from the bar by a partition of the bronze grillwork. In the ceiling of both the bar and the dining room were many star-shaped perforations through which light was diffused softly so that one might dine or drink under a semblance of heaven.
Kathy found an empty booth at the rear of the bar which provided a clear view of the entrance. She ordered a Sidecar and waited. It was then a quarter to five, and time passed quickly to the hour. After five, however, as the fear developed that Jacqueline had changed her mind and would not come after all, the pace of time was retarded, and it required an age for the minute hand of the lighted clock above the bar to creep one hundred fifty degrees around the circumference. It was then, when despair had reached its maximum growth, that Jacqueline appeared in the entrance, paused for a moment while her pupils dilated in adjustment to shadows, and made her way to the rear where Kathy waited.
She was wearing the hard brown gabardine, and her body moved inside the severe tailoring with strong, fluid grace. She slipped into the booth across from Kathy and leaned forward to caress Kathy’s hand briefly with the tips of cool fingers. “Hello, darling. Sorry to be late. I was delayed at the last minute by an intolerable old bore in Furniture. Seems he’s having difficulty with his sales force. What are you drinking?”
“A Sidecar.”
“Oh, yes. It’s always a Sidecar, isn’t it? I’ll have one, too, I think. Are you ready for another?”
“Yes, thanks.”
Jacqueline gave the order and leaned back to wait for the cocktails. Her smooth black hair caught the light of ersatz stars, and her long, rather heavy face was softened and beautified by shifting shadows. Looking at her, feeling within herself a rising of hope and restoration, Kathy wondered what it was the face of Jacqueline suggested, and she thought immediately that it was like the face of a Renaissance Borgia, strong and dominating and touched from beneath with the mark of potential cruelty. In the atmosphere of irrational hope, there was a chill breath of more reasoned despair.
The waiter brought the Sidecars and went away. Jacqueline lifted her glass by its thin stem and tilted a swallow of the pale drink into her mouth over the frosting of powdered sugar around its rim.
“Now, darling,” she said, “why all the distress?”
Kathy looked down into her own glass, forcing sound through her constricted throat. Her words, formed with difficulty, were aspirate and hoarse. “I’m in trouble, Jacqueline. Bad trouble.”
She continued to stare down into her glass, aware with a morbid sensitivity to externals of the saturated silence that followed her words. After a minute, she looked tip into Jacqueline’s eyes and saw that they were suddenly withdrawn, measuring her from an incalculable distance. “Perhaps you’d better tell me about it,” Jacqueline said.
Now that Kathy had started, it was easier to talk, but she still spoke slowly, her words fashioned with exaggerated care, formed by her lips in advance of sound and spaced too far apart. “It started with a man. His name was Angus Brunn. We met by accident in a bar, and he bought me a drink, and we talked for a little while, and later, the next day, he called me on the telephone, and I let him take me out. We went out together several times.”
For the first time, then, Jacqueline’s ivory veneer cracked. Only for an instant. The cracks healed themselves, the fragments of her expression flowing quickly together and sealing. But her voice betrayed the inner tempest. “Why? In Christ’s name, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s very hard to express. Mostly it was because things kept getting worse and worse. Sometimes everything would be all right, but then I’d get these terrible periods of depression when I felt dirty and defiled and hated myself and wanted to die, and these periods kept happening more and more frequently, especially when I hadn’t been with you for quite a while or had just come away from being with you, and I began to think that I’d have to do something or it would be the end of me, that I just couldn’t keep going on forever the way I was.”
The carefully modulated voice across the booth throbbed with fury and venom. “You little fool! You damned treacherous little fool! So you thought you could change yourself by letting some man paw you, is that it? So you let him violate you and ruin you, and now you come crying to me! Is that it? Damn you to hell, is that it?”
“No, Jacqueline! It wasn’t that way at all. I couldn’t go through with it, you see. That’s what I thought, all right, and I tried to do it, but at the last minute I couldn’t. It was horrible. It made me sick with revulsion.”
“Good! Good, good, good, you stupid, bloody little fool!”
By that time Kathy knew, of course, that she had come to the end of her delusion. No cure, no hope. Absolution denied. But having come so far, there was nothing left to do but to continue as she had started, and so she lifted her eyes and said with a sudden, strange feeling of calm, “I killed him, Jacqueline. I killed him, and he’s lying dead in his apartment right now, unless someone has found him and
