Unashamed, The

by March Hastings

  It wouldn't be all pleasure, she was aware of that. And at times she would even miss the girl. In between the miseries, there had been moments of bliss. She would not forget them, she didn't want to. But with Angie, one never dared think of the future. The girl had never known what she wanted, from life, from a lover, even from herself. She lived, not a day at a time, but a moment. Without Angie, there was hope.

  Whistling, she went quickly about the business of sorting, packing some things, discarding others. She did not pause over pictures or theater programs or even the pressed rose from their anniversary. As she moved through the apartment, Bridgit hugged her heels, as though to make sure she would not be left behind.

  Carolyn was thankful now that she had not let Angie force her to get rid of the cat. They'd fought about it more than once. Yet Carolyn had known from the beginning that Bridgit would still be there long after Angie had gone. And it amused her to know that Bridgit would be as happy as she to be rid of the girl.

  She had no idea how long she had been working, but when she stopped to make herself a cup of tea, it was already past midnight.

  Coming back into the livingroom, she was surprised to see Bridgit suddenly scoot away from her and run to hide behind a leg of the couch. Alerted, she strained to hear any sound from the hall or outside.

  Quite clearly, Angie's high pitched, nervous laugh drifted up from the parking lot. Carolyn watched the cat's back arch and the hackles rise along its spine.

  She set the cup down on the table and crossed quickly to stand at the edge of the window, hidden behind the curtain. Carefully she pulled aside the yellow burlap and peered out. Below, spotlighted in the hazy glow of a street lamp, was Angie. She stood with her back to the house, watching Jimmy jot something into a small notebook.

  Realizing she would not be noticed, Carolyn pushed out the window as far as it would go and leaned over the sill.

  She saw Jimmy snap the notebook shut and drop it into the side pocket of his jacket. He appeared to be angry.

  Abruptly, he made a movement to leave. Angie called him back.

  Then Carolyn watched Angie turn on the charm, luring Jimmy as she had so often lured Carolyn herself. It was almost pathetic, watching Angie from a distance, knowing exactly what she would do next. And she knew that Jimmy, like herself in the past, didn't stand a chance.

  Jimmy stood aloof, legs spread, head high, as Angie moved in. The girl stepped close to him, gazing up into his eyes, her hands sliding up the backs of his arms. Carolyn could almost hear the cooing voice. Imperceptibly almost, he began to lean forward like a flower drawn to the sun, till Angie was in his arms.

  Carolyn watched Angie move in still closer, rubbing herself against him. His hands gripped Angie's buttocks. He lifted her off her feet and they clung in a tight embrace.

  Carolyn had seen enough. She backed away from the window, her fists clenched at her sides.

  She remembered this morning, before she got out of bed, how Angie had grabbed her and held her. Even remembering, she felt a shudder of desire go through her. The girl had been more passionate than ever, eager in her love making, demanding fulfillment again and again.

  Priming herself, Carolyn thought, for Jimmy.

  Surely the girl had made arrangements ahead of time. She knew Angie too well to believe that she had stayed out of work on a whim, on the chance that she might be able to see him, Angie didn't work that way. She planned her deceits well in advance. She had probably made the date with him last weekend, before she had talked Carolyn into letting her stay.

  That's what hurt the most, knowing that Angie had used her all week to get herself worked up for Jimmy. She couldn't blame him. He didn't know what was going on. But it was a sure thing that Angie did, every inch of the way. If she hadn't been blinded by her own desire, Carolyn could have figured out why Angie had been so attentive.

  The girl had probably failed miserably in her first attempt with Jimmy. It took a lot to get her aroused and he didn't look like he would waste time on preliminaries. This time, Angie had let Carolyn take care of that. A simple arrangement, to Angie's mind, and probably a successful one.

  She stood for a long moment, staring blindly, hearing the sound of Angie's cooing voice, whispering lies of love.

  Once she had believed her. She had always wanted to. Now she could only wonder if Angie ever had loved her, really. Or had she always been merely used?

  She shook herself free of the mood. She should probably thank Angie for what she had just seen, rather than hate her. For it was the final blow to Carolyn's ego and, she knew, probably the one that would save her life. She could not possibly be tempted to take Angie back again. And one problem that had often bothered her had finally been resolved: she knew that she had not failed with Angie. Angie had been lost from the start.

  She turned and walked quickly into the bedroom, shut and fastened the valises. One at a time, she carried them into the livingroom. Finally she got Bridgit's carrying case out of the hall closet and set it on the floor. She called gently to the cat.

  It was always an ordeal, getting Bridgit into the case. She unzipped the flap of the opening and let it hang. On all fours, she crawled toward the cat, calling it softly, clicking her fingers. Bridgit backed away from her along the wall till she had trapped herself in a corner. Carolyn lunged. Bridgit ducked under her outstretched hand and ran for the closet.

  "Damn!" Carolyn breathed, standing up and brushing lint from the rug off her skirt. She turned toward the closet and found herself staring into Angie's icy blue eyes.

  Carolyn hesitated only long enough to take a deep breath. Then she took a determined step forward. Angie moved to block the hall.

  Carolyn didn't stop. "Excuse me," she said, squeezing past the girl. "I have to catch Bridgit."

  Angie stood aside. She watched Carolyn grab Bridgit by the scruff and lift her out of the closet. She did not say a word but the pointed toe of her shoe began to tap out her irritation.

  Shoving the cat inside the case, Carolyn pulled the flap up quickly and zipped it shut. "There," she said, aloud but to herself. "We're all set."

  Angie spoke with deadly calm. "Are you going somewhere, Carol?"

  "Yes. I'm going to Brooklyn," Carolyn said lightly. "Why?"

  Angie ignored the question. "You were just there," she said. "What's the idea?"

  Carolyn picked up the carrying case and started toward the hall door. "I love my family," she said.

  Stepping quickly in front of her, Angie put her hand on Carolyn's arm. "Stop being funny," she said. "Where do you think you're going?"

  Carolyn shrugged off Angie's hand. "I told you," she said. "Brooklyn." She set the case just inside the door and started back for a valise.

  Angie breathed an exaggerated sigh. "All right," she said. "If that's what you want..."

  Carolyn felt her temper snap. "Oh, just shut up, will you?" she flared. "You've put me through the treatment for the last time, Angie. It won't work anymore. So don't waste your breath."

  Angie smirked and Carolyn could have killed her. But she knew instantly that, in a sense, Angie was right. As long as she was angry and not indifferent, she remained wide open to Angie's mode of attack.

  She had not let Angie trap her that way for a long time and she didn't intend to have it happen now. She had found out a long time ago that she could not cope with Angie when she was angry. And Angie knew it, too. She would provoke Carolyn deliberately, then gradually wear her down.

  She felt the anger fizzle and die. Even now Angie was getting the better of her. If she wanted out of this business alive, Carolyn knew she had better get hold of herself fast. She glanced quickly at the girl. Angie was watching her narrowly, waiting for her to make a move. It felt almost as though the girl were daring her to do something. Carolyn laughed to herself, keenly aware now of Angie's method and prepared to beat her at her own game.

  Instead of picking up the valise, she sat down into one of the sling chairs and calmly lit a cigarette.<
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  Angie watched her restlessly.

  "If you'll just sit down for a minute," Carolyn said, "I’ll give you the vital details."

  She watched the play of emotion in Angie's eyes, the curiosity, the smugness, the contempt. In a way, she couldn't blame the girl for what she felt. She had certainly let Angie make a fool of her often enough. But this time it was going to be different. She had never been so calm nor so sure of herself. Nothing Angie could do would touch her.

  When Angie had settled herself on the couch, Carolyn went on. "The rent's due on the first," she said. "I left you the agent's address. And I would appreciate it if you would forward my mail. I'm expecting..."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" Angie screamed. "I can't pay the rent on this place. Are you crazy?" Her eyes were wide, her face contorted with rage and frustration.

  Carolyn smiled. "Not anymore, Angie. Anyway, I've been trying to get you out of here for quite a while and, for some reason, you never wanted to leave. So I figured I might just as well let you have it." She winked. "Besides, I'm sure Jimmy will be glad to help."

  "Oh, God! You're such a bore sometimes," Angie said in a voice calculated to kill. "How can you be jealous of a man, Carol? Don't you understand that Jimmy has nothing to do with us?"

  Carolyn raised her eyebrows. "You have a strange set of values, old girl."

  "Why? It makes sense, doesn't it? You can love a woman and live with her. Just like we have. But you can't marry her and have children. That takes a man." She gestured impatiently. "It just isn't the same thing at all. I don't know why you can't see it."

  Sadly, Carolyn shook her head. "All I can say is, I'm glad, frankly, that I couldn't marry you. Then look what a mess I'd be in." She stood up and stubbed out her cigarette. "Well, that's it, Angie. I'm sure you can take care of yourself without any help from me."

  She walked to the valise and bent to pick it up.

  Suddenly the cushion off the couch hit her squarely in the back of the head. Off balance, she jerked forward and grabbed at the valise for support. Leaning heavily on one knee, she swore silently and waited till she got control of herself before facing Angie.

  "You asked for that!" Angie screamed. "You're a bitch, walking out on me like that. You're a bitch!"

  Fists clenched at her sides, Carolyn approached her slowly, stalking her down as she had done with the cat. Like Bridgit, Angie backed away.

  "Angie, it's time you learned a lesson," Carolyn said quietly. "I'm tired of you pushing me around."

  When Angie reached the corner, she knew she was trapped. She began to panic. Angie, in panic, always got sly.

  Carolyn could almost hear the wheels clicking in Angle's head, she knew her so well. And, finally, she understood how to stop the girl completely.

  As Angie advanced, Carolyn deliberately allowed herself to be wooed by the crooning voice, the pleading eyes. She let Angie move them out of the corner, into the center of the room.

  "You know it's you I love," Angie murmured. "Always."

  Carolyn listened but did not speak.

  "I was just saying goodbye to Jimmy. Like you promised to do with Walter. I thought you'd want me to. That's all, Carol. Saying goodbye."

  Carolyn felt the couch against the backs of her knees and braced herself for the final play.

  "Baby, haven't I been good to you? Haven't we been happy all week?"

  This time, as Angie's hands moved to caress her, Carolyn felt no response. There was neither pleasure nor pain in Angie's touch. Angie's hands were only hands, no longer needles pricking her with desire. She closed her eyes in secret relief and joy.

  Angie, taking her lowered eyelids to signal the final bursting of passion, pushed Carolyn gently onto the couch and began the ritual of seduction. Knowing her weaknesses, she used Carolyn's body expertly, tickling her neck with her tongue and fondling her breasts.

  Carolyn did not even pretend to be aroused. She didn't have to. Angie was so positive of her power that she did not need to be encouraged. Carolyn opened her eyes just wide enough to see the triumph on Angie's face. Then, as the girl's mouth lowered to meet her own, she laughed, hard and cruelly.

  Shocked, Angie sat upright and stared at her.

  "I have news for you," Carolyn said lightly. "It didn't work this time."

  She watched the shock become sickness as the girl's composure disintegrated. She did not know what demon she had unleashed in Angie's mind, but she knew with brutal certainty that she had done more damage than she realized. She felt the perspiration break out across her back and her hands trembled, yet she did not reach out to comfort the girl. She simply stared at her, horrified at what she had done, knowing it was already too late to help Angie.

  Angie opened her mouth and tried to speak but the sounds that came out were not words. They were shrill squeaks, cries of pain like a dog makes when its tail gets stepped on. And then she was beating on Carolyn's arms and head and shoulders with her fists, crying, screaming hysterically, wanting to kill.

  Carolyn twisted away from her toward the edge of the couch, covering her head with her arms. As she rolled, Angie shoved her and she pitched off the couch. Her head hit the floor. For a second she was too numb to move.

  She heard Bridgit cry out in terror as Angie kicked the carrying case out of the way. The hall door slammed. Then there was silence.

  Carolyn got to her feet slowly, blinking, rubbing her shoulder where it had crashed into the coffeetable. Every muscle ached. She felt like she had been beaten with a club. Still dazed, she stood looking at the closed door, angry, wanting to hit back. The scene on the couch came to her. As she remembered the wild, wild look in Angie’s eyes, she felt the terror growing inside her. She started after the girl.

  She stopped just long enough to right Bridgit's upturned prison and open the flap. Then she banged out into the hall.

  The elevator door slid shut in her face. She watched the numbers click through the dial. Going down. Stopping at one.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. At least Angie wasn't going to throw herself off the roof. But still… She went back inside for the keys to the car.

  CHAPTER 11

  When Carolyn reached the corner, she searched frantically for a glimpse of Angie. The sidewalk appeared deserted in both directions as far as she could see. She had no idea which way Angie had gone but she knew she couldn't have gotten far. Without her purse, which she had left in the apartment, Angie would have to walk wherever she was going. And that was no problem. Angie had never willingly walked three consecutive blocks in her life.

  But, worried as she was about the girl's state of mind, Carolyn was even more concerned about Angie wandering alone through the neighborhood. Hovering as it did on the edge of a crime-ridden slum area, it was no place for a woman to take an early morning stroll. The development they lived in had round-the-clock guards. Yet she knew that Angie, who rarely stopped to consider anything, had never questioned why the guards were there. Her mind already filled with visions of stumbling across Angie's raped and mutilated body, Carolyn hurried up the block to the little Renault.

  She drove down Columbus Avenue slowly, peering ahead and into the shadows on both sides. At Eighty Sixth Street she stopped for a red light.

  On her left, running out in the street, turning as she ran to look behind her, was Angie, apparently headed for Central Park. As a cab came up the street toward her, Angie waved. The cab made a sharp U-turn and halted beside her. Angie climbed in.

  Carolyn couldn't be bothered waiting for the light to change. She veered around the corner and took off after the cab.

  They did not go into the park but turned right on Central Park West, heading downtown. The street was empty except for a bus and an occasional cab and, lagging two blocks behind, Carolyn kept the green and white vehicle easily in sight. She could see Angie's curly head silhouetted against the back window, rigid, staring straight ahead.

  At the Museum of Natural History, the cab slowed and pulled over to the co
rner. A block behind, Carolyn drew in to the curb but left the motor running, not knowing what the girl might do next.

  Angie leaped out of the cab on the park side and, without looking, ran across the street and disappeared into the tree-shaded entrance to the drive. The cabbie leaned out the window and shouted to her. If she heard him at all, Angie did not stop. The driver got out and stood beside the cab, peering after the girl.

  Carolyn eased the car away from the curb and drove up beside the man. She leaned across to the far window, a dollar bill in her hand.

  "Here," she said, shaking it at him impatiently. "It's for her."

  He stared at her for a second, scratching the bald spot on top of his head, then smoothing a few hairs to cover it.

  "Bunch of queers," he muttered disgustedly. He took the bill.

  Carolyn turned into the park and onto the drive beside the lake. It was dark under the trees. She glimpsed the pale pink of Angie's cotton dress as the light of a street lamp touched it. She moved in just close enough to keep the girl in full view.

  Angie walked rapidly, as though she had been used to doing so always. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, not hesitating once in her headlong course. Finally, at the very end of the lake, she turned off the sidewalk and strode into the brush. She vanished into the darkness as though into a cave.

  Afraid that if she left the car beside the road it would attract attention, Carolyn speeded up around the bend and into the parking lot a hundred yards further on. She leaped out of the car and ran back towards the lake. From the top of a huge rock jutting out over the water, she peered into the moonlit shadows until she found Angie just stepping out of the woods.

  For a moment she stood indecisively, then crouched down to watch.

  Angie stepped deliberately out onto a broad, flat stretch of ground, right down to the edge of the water. She posed there dramatically, her face turned to the starlit heavens, hands clasped to her breast. Then, instead of hurling herself into the lake, she sat down on a stone and began to take off her shoes.