She didn’t answer. When they reached the car, she threw her bag into the back seat and climbed in.
“You’re from New York,” he said, looking at the licence place. “I am, too. Maybe we met up—”
“No, Mr. Paynter,” She turned on the ignition. “We’ve never met, I’m sure.”
“Look, Miss—Miss—” He gave up waiting for her to supply her name. “I hope you won’t let me drive you away from the beach.”
“You won’t,” she said quickly. “I like it here.”
“Maybe you’ll come to lunch tomorrow then?” he asked, encouraged.
The motor roared as it caught. “Maybe,” she laughed. “Why don’t you ask me tomorrow, Mr. Paynter?” The car moved away.
He stood at the edge of the road looking after it. He scratched his head. Strange girl. She didn’t sound as if she had ever heard of him. He wondered if she was putting on an act. He shook his head as he turned back to the house. Maybe he would find out tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
WHEN SHE GOT to the beach the next morning, she blinked her eyes in amazement. A table stood on the sand, an umbrella over it. It was completely set with food, and Gordon Paynter stood next to it.
He grinned. “You’re ten minutes late.”
“I—uh—” She couldn’t speak.
“I wasn’t taking any chances. I had Tom set us up down here,” he explained.
“It seems to me that you’re goin’ to a lot of trouble for nothing, Mr. Paynter,” she said.
“I don’t think so, Miss No-name,” he said.
“What’d you call me?” she asked.
“Miss No-name,” he answered quickly. “I kind of like it. Makes you very mysterious.”
She smiled slowly. “I don’t think I’m very mysterious.”
“Any girl without a name is mysterious in Miami.” He turned to the table. “I hope you like shrimp. Tom makes the meanest shrimp salad.”
“I love shrimp,” she said.
“Good,” he said, sitting down. “Let’s eat.”
She dropped her robe on the beach. “I’d like to swim first.” “Okay,” he said. He stood up and took off his shirt. He dropped his trousers into the sand beside her robe. He was wearing a bright-yellow pair of shorts. “Let’s go.”
He followed her down to the water. She dived into a breaker and came up sputtering. “The water’s cold,” she shouted back to him, her teeth chattering.
He grinned. “I’ll speak to Tom about it. I’ll see if we can run some hot-water pipes down here for you.”
“Crazy man,” she laughed, her back to the breakers. A big wave broke behind her and tumbled her to her knees. She felt his hands grab her under the shoulders and lift her to her feet. She stood there staring into his face.
His eyes were serious. “Now that I’ve saved your life, Miss, do you think you can tell me your name?”
She caught her breath. There was something about his eyes that reminded her of Mike. They had the same decency about them, the same gentleness in the way they looked at her. She smiled slowly. “I guess it’s only polite,” she said.
He nodded, still holding her. “It’s only polite.”
“Flood,” she said. “Mary Flood.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Flood,” he said. He kissed her cheek quickly and let her go. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Flood.”
“I never ate so much in my life, Gordon,” she said, pushing her plate away from her.
He smiled. “Tom will be happy. He likes people to enjoy his food.”
“You can tell him for me that it’s the greatest,” she said, grinning.
“More coffee?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, thanks, I’ve had it.” She looked at her watch. “Golly! It’s after one. I’ve gotta run!”
“What about tonight, Mary?” he asked. “Have we got a date?”
“Uh-uh,” she said. “I’d like to, but I can’t.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I’ve gotta work,” she said.
“Tomorrow night, then?”
She shook her head. “No night. That’s when I work.”
“What do you do?” he asked curiously.
“My girl-friend and I have a routine,” she said carefully. “We work a different club every night.”
“Where are you working tonight?” he asked. “I’ll come and see you.”
“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “We’re a fill-in. We wait at the agent’s place until we get a call. When some act doesn’t show up, then we rush over and go on.”
“Oh,” he said. “Maybe some time when you know in advance you’ll tell me.”
She nodded. “I will, Gordon.” She picked up the bag from the sand beside her. “Thanks for the lunch.”
“Let me carry it to the car for you,” he said, taking the bag from her.
“Okay.”
They walked slowly to the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
She looked down at her feet in the sand. She had already made up her mind. She wasn’t coming back to this beach. Ever. She would have to find another place to swim. “Sure,” she said.
They were at the car now. He opened the door for her, and she got inside. He put the bag on the seat beside her. “Thanks for everything, Gordon,” she said.
“Thank you, Mary.”
She held out her hand. He took her by surprise. Instead of shaking it, he held it to his lips. “Until tomorrow,” he said.
He let go of her hand and she turned on the ignition. The motor roared. “Good-bye, Gordon,” she said. “You’ve been real sweet. Thanks again.”
She came into the apartment humming. Joe and Evelyn were sitting at the table having coffee. Joe looked up at her. “What do you feel so good about?”
“I just feel good, that’s all,” she said. “Some guy bought me lunch.”
Joe laughed harshly. “He’d better be good for more than lunch. I just got word from my contract. We’re shut down for a couple of weeks.”
Mary looked at him. “What do yuh mean?”
“We gotta lay low. The cops are gettin’ hot.”
“Oh.” Mary sat down at the table. She looked at her fingernails carefully. “What’re we gonna do?” she asked.
Joe shot a quick glance at Evelyn. Without speaking, he got up and went into the bedroom.
Mary looked over at her. “What’s with him?”
Evelyn shrugged her shoulders. “You know Joe,” she said. “He’s such a sensitive guy about some things.”
Mary laughed. Evelyn’s words were even funnier to her because of the seriousness with which they were spoken. “The only thing he’s sensitive about,” she said, “is his wallet.”
Evelyn didn’t see the humour. “Yeah, that’s it,” she agreed. “He’s ashamed to ask you for the dough to pick us up outta here an’ go to New Orleans.”
Mary’s eyes opened wide. “What happened to his dough? He gets half of everything we make.”
Evelyn didn’t meet her gaze. “It’s gone. The track. Other reasons.” She smiled at Mary. “I told him not to worry. That if you had any dough you’d be glad to put it up for us.”
Mary’s face was straight. “I got about twenty-two bucks in my bag. He can have that, if it’ll help.”
A look of disappointment came into Evelyn’s eyes. “That all? What about the rest of the dough? You must have a couple of hundred dollars around. You never blew any of it.”
Mary smiled. “I spent it on clothes. It wasn’t much when yuh go shoppin’.”
Joe’s voice came angrily from the bedroom door. “I tol’ yuh, Evelyn, she ain’t goin’ to give us nothin’. We been treatin’ her too good. There’s only one way to make a broad like that understand who’s boss.”
He came threateningly toward Mary.
Calmly she reached into her pocketbook and took out the switch knife she had bought on her first shopping-trip. She looked up into his eyes steadily as she pressed the button, fli
pping out the blade. Its sharp, shining edge reflected all the light in the room. “Did Evelyn ever tell yuh how come I get sent up to that school?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Joe stopped short, his face flushed. He looked at his girl questioningly.
Evelyn’s face was white. “She cut up her stepfather pretty bad.”
He looked down at Mary. Idly she began to clean her nails with the blade. He turned back to Evelyn. “Fine class of friends you pick,” he said in a disgusted voice. “I thought you said she was a high-class dame.”
Chapter Eight
SHE WENT TO her room early and read awhile before going to sleep. The low hum of conversation came to her through the closed door. She smiled to herself. Joe had taken the twenty-two dollars without a murmur. She wondered what they were going to do next. At last she turned off the light and went to sleep. Time enough to worry tomorrow.
Bright sunlight was tumbling through the open window when she awakened. She rolled over on the bed and stretched. It was great going to bed at a decent hour. She had almost forgotten what it was like. She climbed out of bed and picked up her housecoat from the chair. There were no closets in this small room, only in the big room which Joe and Evelyn shared.
Slipping into it, she walked into the other room. Her brows knitted in puzzlement. The bed was empty. It hadn’t been slept in. She walked over to the window and looked out. The car was gone too.
She went to the sink and filled the coffee-pot, still thinking. They must have gone out last night and not yet returned. She turned on the burner under the coffee and walked to the closet.
It was empty. All the clothing was gone. Quickly she opened the dresser drawers. Everything was gone. She swore to herself silently. The only clothing in the whole apartment was what she had on at the moment. A nightgown, a cheap housecoat, and a pair of mules. They had taken all her clothes, even the bathing-suit.
The coffee was bubbling. She poured herself a cup and sat down to think. Idly she reached for the package of cigarettes that was always on the table. Even that was gone. She went into the bedroom and took the package from her purse.
A knock came at the door. She opened it. The landlord was standing there. “Yes?” she asked.
A short, thick-set man, he looked at her from under bushy eyebrows. “Your friends are gone,” he said.
She stood in the doorway. “Yeah,” she said.
He made a move to come into the apartment. She blocked his way. “They said you’d square the rent,” he said, trying to look over her shoulder and see what was left in the apartment.
“How much do they owe yuh?” she asked.
“Three weeks,” he said, his eyes not meeting her gaze. “Ninety bucks.”
She couldn’t tell whether he was lying. If he was telling the truth, Joe had been pocketing her share of the rent. “He told me he had paid you up to last week,” she said.
His eyes turned shrewd. “Got the receipts?”
“They must be here somewhere,” she said.
He knew she didn’t have have them. When he had heard the motor start in the middle of the night, he had come out of his room in a hurry. He always slept with one ear tuned in on the tenants. You had to be like that in the furnished-apartment business or you’d soon be without your shirt. Someone was always trying to con you out of your rent money.
The man and the girl were putting their bags in the car. “Hey!” he said, trying his bathrobe around him. “Where’re you goin’?”
The man turned to him. “We’re checkin’ out.”
“What about my rent?” he asked.
“Your rent is okay,” the man said. “The blonde is still there. She ain’t comin’ with us.”
“How do I know she’s got the dough?” he demanded.
The man looked over at his girl-friend quickly, then took the landlord’s arm and led him behind the car where she couldn’t hear them. “She’s got dough,” he whispered “You can sock her for a couple of weeks, not only this one.”
Unconsciously the landlord lowered his voice. “But you got the receipts.”
The man chuckled and took a few slips of paper from his pocket. “Now you got ’em back.”
The landlord looked down at his hand. They were the printed rent receipts for the last few weeks.
The man chuckled again. “I gotta get out. You know how dames are. My girl is jealous, an’ the blond won’t leave me alone.” He looked at the landlord as if he had a sudden idea. “You might even—”
The landlord felt his mouth go dry. He had seen her go down to the car in her bathing-suit. “D’you think?” he asked.
The man nodded. “Easy,” he said.
The landlord stood there indecisively. Actually, the rent was only two days behind. “How do I know?” he said.
The man put his hand confidentially on his shoulder. “Y’ can’t miss,” he said.
The landlord took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, stepping back. “I’ll take a chance.”
He watched the car drive off into the night and then went back into his room. Even if the man were wrong, the worst that could happen was that he would pick up an extra few bucks …
He put his foot in the jamb of the door. “Look,” he said positively, “the rent wasn’t paid. I want my dough.”
Mary looked down at his foot, then up at his face. “Yuh can’t get it,” she said. “Not until I go down to the bank and take it out.”
He shook his head. “I’ve had those gags pulled before. You’ll disappear an’ I’ll be out in the cold. I want it now.”
“I haven’t got it here,” she said.
“You got it,” he said, letting his gaze travel meaningly down her housecoat. “All you need.”
She let a smile come to her lips. Understanding came to her in a hurry. “Okay,” she said. “But I’ll need a little time to get ready. I gotta bathe an’—”
He reached a hand toward her. He felt the firm swell of her breast under the housecoat, then adroitly she slipped away from him.
She was still smiling. “Not now,” she said.
He looked at her. The guy was right. “Okay,” he said magnanimously. “I’ll give you an hour.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
“But don’t fool around,” he said. “The cops down here are hell on rent-beaters. Especially when they’re tourists.”
She closed the door behind him and listened to his footsteps go down the corridor. For a moment she stood there, then went back to the table. She picked up her cup and tasted the coffee. It was cold.
Lighting another cigarette, she carried the coffee back to the stove and stood there, thoughtfully looking down at the pot while it was heating. Deep inside her she had always known what would happen. Sooner or later she would have to make up her mind.
When the coffee was hot, she carried it back to the table and sat down. If only she had some clothes in the place, she could get out. But even if she did, the landlord would call the cops. Joe had said the cops were getting hot. Maybe they would recognise her as part of the act. Then things would be even worse.
She sipped at the coffee and lit one cigarette from the end of the other. She smiled grimly to herself. It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose. She was no virgin who had to protect the invisible barrier. And she knew how to take care of herself, too. That business would never happen again. That was another thing she had learned up at the school. There was nothing to worry about. Still, something had always held her back.
She closed her eyes almost wearily. They were always after that. Men were all the same. She knew it. She used to laugh at it. It had been a game to her then to see how far she could go with them and still get away. If only there were something inside herself that could match their desires. Then maybe she could feel differently about it. Only when she was near Mike had she felt something stirring.
Strange that she should think of him now. It seemed as if he belonged to a completely different world. She wondered if it was the love she
felt for him that had made it different. It must have been. She had never felt like that with anyone else.
She finished her second cup of coffee and looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes to go. She got up and rinsed out the cup and saucer. Slowly she dried them and put them neatly back on the shelf. She sat down again and looked at the clock. Ten minutes.
She lit another cigarette and waited, staring up at the clock. She wished she could feel something inside her. Anything. Even fear. But she didn’t even feel that. Only the cold certainty that this had been bound to happen, that it had only been a question of time.
She was still staring up at the clock when the knock came at the door. She got to her feet. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened and the landlord stood there. He hesitated a moment, then entered the room and shut the door quickly behind him. His face glistened with excitement. “Well?” he asked.
Her eyes looked at him levelly. Automatically she noted that he had shaved and put on a clean shirt. She half smiled to herself. “Well?” she answered.
“Ready?” he asked, walking toward her.
“Always ready,” she answered automatically, her eyes still on his face.
His hands reached for her and pulled her to him roughly. He kissed her. She could feel his teeth hard behind his lips. She didn’t move. His hands moved swiftly and the sound of her clothing tearing came almost distantly to her. It was then that she pushed him away.
Regretfully, she looked at the torn housecoat on the floor, then at herself. Now she had no clothes at all. She looked at him.
He was staring at her, his eyes white all around the edges.
She spun him toward the bedroom. Now it was all clear to her. It had taken a long time, but now she understood. It was for this life that she had been born. That was why things had always gone as they had for her. That was what everyone else could see in her.
“In there,” she said calmly, gesturing toward the door.
He came toward her again.
She shook her head slightly. “What’s the hurry?” she asked. “I’m not runnin’ away.”
He hesitated, then turned and walked into the bedroom, stripping off his shirt as he went. She picked up her torn housecoat and followed him into the room.
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