by Donna Huxley
Tonight Marsh would be late, as usual, so Anna had accepted Debby's invitation to have a drink after work and talk over old times. The two women had not seen each other since Anna's marriage, and neither wanted to stay out of touch too long, since the friendship they had developed at N.T.E.L. was important to both.
'Anna!' Debby exclaimed as the door closed on the night wind. 'How are you, kid? Gosh, it's been a long time!'
'I'm frozen at the moment, to tell you the truth,' said Anna.
'Come on, then,' Debby smiled. 'Let's get ourselves a hot buttered rum or something.'
'How's Barbara?' asked Anna as they sat in a booth towards the rear of the lounge.
'Oh, you know,' Debby sighed. 'The same.'
'Really?' Anna asked miserably. 'Oh, no!' As the waiter took their order, she thought with quiet horror of the situation at N.T.E.L.
'Debby,' she said at length, 'I feel like such a coward. To think that Barbara is still suffering from that…'
'Never mind, Anna,' said Debby. 'You did all you could, and it didn't do any good. There's nothing to blame yourself for.'
'Yes, there is,' Anna insisted, thinking ruefully of Marsh's legal estimation of the situation. 'I should never have let the whole sordid mess run its course behind closed doors. If I'd taken legal action in my own behalf, the spotlight would have been on Deman. As it is, he goes along with impunity… It's infuriating!'
'Don't blame yourself, Anna, You had to get on with your own life. Don't forget, you were the victim, not the criminal.'
Anna had to suppress a wry smile at her friend's words. In recent weeks she had so accustomed herself to feelings of guilt over her misfortune that it was difficult to recall her innocence.
'I don't know if you knew,' Debby interjected, 'that Barbara tried to help you. She went to see Robbins when you were fired. Obviously it didn't make any difference.'
Anna shook her head, contemplating the extent of the damage Porter Deman had done in her life— damage of which Debby could have no inkling, ignorant as she was of the existence of the damning personnel file and Marsh's discovery of it.
'Well,' Debby concluded with an ironic smile, 'at least Deman hasn't got around to me. If he does, he'll get a surprise, I can promise you! I may get fired, but I'll leave him something to remember me by. Maybe a split lip or a bloody nose.'
She fell silent for a moment as steaming glasses of hot rum were placed on the table between them.
'As a matter of fact,' she went on when the waiter had gone, 'we haven't been seeing much of him recently. There's a new girl there now. She's probably getting all his attentions.'
As the glow faded from Anna's cheeks in the warm air, Debby looked concernedly at her.
'You look pale, Anna. Have you been ill?' she asked.
'No,' Anna replied. 'A little tired, I suppose. My job keeps me hopping.'
'How is marriage agreeing with you?' Debby pursued, obviously concealing her concern.
'All right,' Anna answered evasively.
'I still can't believe it. I got a look at Marsh when he was at N.T.E.L. How handsome can a man get!' Debby exclaimed. 'I'm so happy for you, kid. You deserve someone like him. And I guess he came along at the right time.'
'Yes,' Anna agreed, inwardly weighing the absurdity of her words, 'I suppose he did.' She dared not reveal to her friend that her troubles at N.T.E.L. had managed to compromise what had seemed an ideal marriage. If Marsh had entered her life at any other time, her relationship with him would have eluded the rocks on which it was foundering now. Instead, she had met him in the very corridors of N.T.E.L.
'If you don't mind my saying so,' said Debby, her brow furrowed in concern, 'you look downright unhappy, Anna. Are you sure you're all right?'
'Yes,' Anna sighed. 'I'm okay. Don't worry about me, Deb. I'm just trying to get myself straightened out. The last two months have been… well, hectic.'
'Marriage is quite a step, I guess,' Debby observed. 'Of course,' she smirked, 'I wouldn't know, since I haven't been proposed to lately. Or even propositioned.'
With a grateful smile Anna contemplated her friend's accustomed humour. Its self-denigrating aspect never troubled Debby's close friends, for they knew her relative lack of sex appeal was more than compensated for by her irrepressible personality. The dignity and self-respect underlying her jokes at her own expense were never out of sight, and she herself seemed confident that she was not destined for a spinster's life.
'I imagine,' she probed diffidently, 'that a big strong guy like Marsh can be stubborn about what he wants.'
Anna nodded, uncomfortably aware that the other girl's guess was close to the truth.
'So can I,' she smiled. After all, she had her own rigidity to blame as much as that of her wilful husband for her current problems.
'My mother always used to say that one has to let a man have his own way—or at least let him think he does,' Debby laughed. 'Otherwise his pride will make him impossible to live with. Be patient, she'd say, and bide your time until he comes around to your way of thinking. Of course, she was talking over her head, because my father was always impossible, and still is.'
'Maybe he would have been more impossible,' Anna smiled, 'if she hadn't been diplomatic.'
'You could be right about that.' Debby's sparkling eyes were fixed affectionately on her friend. 'But I could never be as passive as she was. When and if I ever get married, I'll probably bring all kinds of trouble down on myself by opening my big mouth when I should be keeping it shut.'
'Nonsense,' said Anna. 'You'll be perfect.' Uncomfortably she reflected that her case was the opposite. It was her silence that Marsh could not forgive.
'Now that you're on the other side of the line,' Debby said in a confidential tone, 'can you tell an amateur like me what it's like? I mean, is it hard to get used to living with a man?'
'Now look who's being diplomatic!' Anna laughed. 'I'll be honest with you, Deb. Marsh is a wonderful man, and I love him. Nevertheless, we're having problems. Sometimes I think it's all my own fault, and sometimes I'm just not sure of anything.'
'That's not possible,' Debby remonstrated. 'I know you, Anna. You're not the type to ruin a good thing.'
'That's what I would have thought,' Anna sighed, 'until this whole… this trouble started. The terrible part is that it hardly has anything to do with us—I mean, with our real relationship. I think I belong with Marsh, but we just can't seem to… to…' She shook her head. 'I'm talking in circles, aren't I? I suppose I just can't bear to go into the details.'
'Don't, then,' Debby smiled. 'I didn't mean to pry. I mean,' she added with a laugh, 'I did mean to pry, but it's none of my business. But look at it this way, Anna: you're still together, aren't you? You're both still committed to each other.'
For how long? Anna wondered miserably while doing her best to return her friend's optimistic smile.
'I know I shouldn't talk,' Debby went on, 'but give it time, Anna. It will work itself out eventually. Just don't give up prematurely. I saw the way Marsh looked at you at N.T.E.L. If a man ever looked at me that way, I'd drop dead of surprise. I know he feels deeply for you.'
Grateful for Debby's well-meaning support, Anna squeezed her hand. She only wished she could take her encouraging words to heart. But there was no forgetting the fragile state of her imperilled marriage.
'I hope you're right,' she said. 'Perhaps somehow things will work out.'
'Just remember, Anna: if you ever need anything, any help or anything, you know where to come. Okay?'
'Okay,' agreed Anna, allowing herself to hope that there was a grain of truth in Debby's assessment of her situation. After all, she reasoned uncertainly, she and Marsh were not separated yet. Despite the bitter gulf between them, they remained married. Perhaps that fact counted for something…
Debby's smile disappeared suddenly as she peered behind Anna to the entrance to the lounge.
'Listen,' she whispered. 'Don't turn around. I think I just saw Marsh come in.'<
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Anna turned paler than before. 'Is he…?'
'He's with someone. That's funny…' Debby's brow furrowed in perplexity.
Anna could not suppress her curiosity a second longer. Turning in her seat, she saw Marsh helping a woman off with her coat by a booth near the door. His companion's back was turned, but her lovely blonde hair left little doubt as to her identity. A glance in the mirror behind the bar confirmed Anna's suspicion. Marsh was with May Reynolds.
Possessed suddenly of a strange alertness, Anna scanned the walls behind Debby. There was a back entrance.
'I'm going to have to go,' she said quickly, pulling on her coat.
'Anna…' Debby's eyes glowed with pained sympathy.
'It's all right,' said Anna, squeezing her hand. 'It's not what it seems. He works with her. But I really don't want to see them right now. Keep in touch, all right?'
Debby smiled, although her features were still clouded by a perplexity which Anna was in too great a hurry to notice.
'Take care,' she said. 'Call me.'
The night wind bit savagely through her coat as she hurried towards the subway. Although Marsh's apartment building was only a pleasant walk away from Ariel in warm weather, the winter wind forced Anna to take the one-stop subway ride home.
She stood on the warm platform in an agony of chagrin and conflicting thoughts. Poor Debby! She would certainly arrive at a conclusion less innocent than Anna's assurances indicated. How embarrassing it all was! Certainly, Marsh did work with May Reynolds in an indirect way, and there was nothing so terrible in buying her a drink before saying goodnight. But the look in May's eyes at the District Attorney's party had indicated anything but indifference towards Marsh.
May might well be perfectly aware that Marsh worked long hours and spent little time with his wife. She might suspect that his marriage was in trouble, and have an interest in being as friendly as possible, in anticipation of the day when he would be free again.
To think that, if it had not been for that rear entrance, Anna might have been forced to greet them, to introduce Debby, to converse with them. The embarrassment would have been too much to bear. Everyone would have seen her confusion…
The train roared deafeningly through the tunnel and screeched to a stop. Anna boarded it and sat down, although she knew she would have to stand up in thirty seconds and prepare to mount the long flights of stairs to the street.
There was no denying it—May Reynolds was a very sexy and attractive young woman. Anna recalled the alert cleverness in May's eyes last night. She was obviously intelligent. And right now she was sitting in a cosy booth with Marsh, chatting about work, perhaps about some mutual interest. Anna had felt May's gaze scan her critically at the party. How uncomfortable it would have felt, she thought, to be appraised competitively by those pretty blue eyes tonight, if she had not made her escape through the back door.
'Made my escape,' Anna thought with an angry shudder as she rushed headlong through the wind towards home. She could not bear the passivity enforced upon her by the predicament that had begun at N.T.E.L. Although she had acted with courageous directness in her responses to Porter Deman, to Charles Robbins, and even to Marsh, she somehow kept finding herself in the position of a furtive, shamefaced victim. She had had quite enough of concealing embarrassing truths, avoiding confrontations, and fearing the actions of others.
Somehow she must regain her independence, however lonely that prospect was.
She had saved most of the money she had earned at Ariel. Before long she would be in a position to strike out on her own. Her new career put the N.T.E.L. disaster behind her. If she continued to save scrupulously, she would be able to pay Marsh back for Sally's tuition. Then there would be only the future to consider. A future without entanglements, without guilt… Without love, perhaps, but a person could become used to living without a lot of things.
Anna had just stepped out of a hot, bracing shower and was combing her wet hair before the bathroom mirror when she heard Marsh's key in the door. As she stood in the steamy air, regarding her own unhappy face in the mirror, the quiet sounds of his habitual night-time activity filtered into the room. The closet door opened and closed; ice clinked in a glass; a rustle came from the bedroom as he changed his clothes. The phonograph in the living room was turned on as he picked out one of the quiet classical records he used as tranquillisers after a hard day's work. As usual, he didn't bother to greet her.
The pathos of standing alone in the bathroom while her estranged husband went about his solitary business only a few feet away seemed suddenly unbearable to Anna.
'This has got to stop,' she thought. The scene she had witnessed in the cocktail lounge, while perhaps not so significant in itself, was the last straw for this troubled marriage. She could no longer bear the expression of intense pain that clouded the green eyes in the mirror. Deciding not to bother blow-drying her hair, she moved deliberately towards the living room.
Marsh was sitting in a chair, wearing jeans and the white shirt he had worn to work. His eyes were closed. The muted strains of a string quartet filled the room with polite restraint. She sat down uncomfortably on the couch opposite him.
'Can I talk to you?' she asked.
'Oh, hi,' he said with an amiability that seemed feigned. His eyes remained closed. 'I thought you might have gone to bed.'
Anna remained silent for a moment, reflecting bitterly that he would not even have said hello had she not spoken to him first.
At last he opened his eyes and regarded her quizzically.
'What's on your mind?' he asked.
'Us,' she said simply.
'What do you mean, "us"?'
'I mean the fact that there isn't any more us,' she said.
'I don't get it,' he sighed irritably, closing his eyes again.
'I think you'd better open your eyes, Marsh,' she said angrily.
'All right, all right,' he sighed, misunderstanding her. 'What is it you want, Anna? I'm tired.'
'So am I. Tired of this whole mess we're in.'
A long silence ensued as they both considered the import of her words. For nearly two months this day had been approaching, and had weighed upon their routine of silent co-existence.
'What do you propose?' he asked with studied calm.
She took a deep breath. 'Divorce,' she said. 'Right away.'
Again Marsh was silent. Although Anna was glad her thought was out in the open, the sound of the word terrified her. These last unhappy weeks had convinced her that her marriage was failing, but had also made it painfully clear that its definitive end would leave indelible scars.
'Is there someone else?' he asked, opening his eyes.
His egotism dumbfounded her. Had he assumed his lovemaking was so bewitching that she would live in total silence with him until another man came along? With an effort she ignored his question and searched for words which would describe her thoughts dispassionately.
'I mean,' he went on cruelly, 'who would take care of your sister? Without me in the picture?'
'I'll take care of Sally myself, thank you,' she began. 'And as for there being someone else, Marsh, I don't think people who live in glass houses should throw stones.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'There's no one else in my life,' she said, her voice trembling with anger. 'Can you say the same?'
He stared at her in perplexity. 'I'd like to know what the hell you're talking about,' he said darkly.
'I'm talking about the woman I saw you with tonight,' she said.
His face clouded with growing anger.
'Don't try to deny it,' she added, struggling to suppress the fear his look inspired in her.
A dry, menacing smile curled his lip.
'Have you been spying on me, love?' he asked.
'Not at all,' she answered. 'If I'd wanted to spy on you, I probably would have found out unpleasant things a long time ago. I met Debby Johnson for a drink tonight, and there you were.'
> Marsh frowned. 'I really don't understand you,' he said. 'Are you talking about May?'
'Who do you think I'm talking about?'
He smiled ironically. 'I think that job of yours, or something, I don't know what, is going to your head, Anna. There's nothing between me and May Reynolds. We're working together. That's all there is to it.'
'That may be your idea of the relationship, but I doubt that she shares it. If, that is, you're telling me the truth.'
'Don't talk to me about truth, Anna,' he growled. 'You wouldn't know it if you tripped over it.'
'Don't try to evade the question!' she snapped.
'My God,' he laughed bitterly. 'You're really full of surprises. One never knows what to expect from you. I never thought you were the jealous type.'
Anna lapsed into frustrated silence. Why, after all, should she be disturbed about Marsh's relationship with May Reynolds? The failure of their marriage had nothing to do with infidelity. In some corner of her mind, Anna herself must be harbouring an involuntary grain of possessiveness towards the man with whom she lived in such torment.
'Well,' he went on blithely, 'I suppose I can indulge your mania, since it means nothing to me. The fact is that we're involved with the D.A. on a difficult and rather exciting case at the moment, and my work brings me into contact with May. I buy her a drink sometimes, at the end of the day, or she buys me one. The lounge where you saw us is near my office and her field location. We're regulars there.'
'What difference does that make?' asked Anna.
'I see,' he said, the same sardonic smile curling his lip. 'I forgot my vocation. Every lawyer knows that the jealous mind will put a negative construction on anything at all. You know, Anna, jealousy is a real sickness. It can be treated.'
'Don't talk down to me!' she shot back. 'I've seen the way she looks at you!'
A short, sarcastic laugh escaped him. 'Women,' he said.
'I wouldn't attribute my point of view to my sex, if I were you,' warned Anna, feeling herself flush angrily at his condescension. 'At least I haven't ordered her personnel file from the District Attorney in order to investigate her past!'