I could have struck her. “All right,” I said, “If that’s the way you feel. I really don’t know why I’ve come. I think I’d better go.”
She struggled up from the bed and put her arms round my neck. “Don’t be silly, Clive. Stay . . . I want you to stay.”
You mean you want my money, you rotten little slut, I thought and I pulled her arms away and shoved her back on the bed.
“You are in a state,” I said, stepping away from the bed. “I didn’t think, after the week-end, you could have treated me like this.”
She locked her hands behind her head and giggled up at me. “Do stop pitying yourself. I warned you how it would be if you fell in love with me, didn’t I? Now be nice and come to bed.”
I sat on the bed by her side. “Do you think I’m in love with you? You don’t give a damn anyway, do you?”
She pursed her lips and looked away from me. “I’m sick of men falling in love with me. I don’t want them. Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“You might easily be left alone. If you treat all your men as you treat me, you deserve to be left.”
She shrugged. “They come back. It doesn’t matter how I treat them, they always come back, If they didn’t, I wouldn’t care. I’m independent, Clive. There are plenty of other fish.”
“You’re only independent because you’ve got Jack,” I said, wanting to smack her face. “Suppose something happened to him? What could you do then?”
Her face seemed to sag. “I’d kill myself,” she returned. “Why?”
“That’s easy talk. But you wouldn’t have the guts when the time came.”
“That’s what you think,” she retorted, stung. “I did try to kill myself once. I drank a bottle of Lysol. So you know what that means? It didn’t kill me, but I was bringing up chunks of my inside for months.”
“Why did you do that?” I asked, momentarily shocked out of my anger.
“I’m not going to tell you. Come on, Clive, don’t keep talking. Come to bed. I’m tired.”
Her spirit-laden breath fanned my cheek and I turned away, suddenly revolted. “All right,” I said, anxious now only to find an excuse to get out of this disgusting little room. “I’ll stay. I shan’t be a moment. I want to use the bathroom.”
As I moved to the door, she took off her dressing gown and slid between the sheets. “Hurry up,” she said, closing her eyes and blowing through her lips.
I stood looking at the other pillow. There were faint grease marks on it and it was slightly soiled. So she was inviting me to sleep in sheets that had been used by some other man. That finally decided me. Without looking at her, I went upstairs to the bathroom and sitting on the side of the bath, I lit a cigarette. I knew this was the end between us and my first reaction was of overwhelming relief. I had seen her as she really was. I knew nothing that I did, nothing I said would make any difference to her feelings for me. I was, to her, merely a means of earning money. I might have put up with her heartlessness and her drunkardness, but the soiled bed killed my infatuation for her once and for all.
I remained in the little bathroom for some time and then I went downstairs and softly entered the bedroom.
Eve lay sprawled across the bed, her mouth open and her face flushed. As I looked down at her, she began to snore.
There was nothing in me now except a weak, drained feeling of disgust. I took two twenty dollar bills from my wallet and put them among the glass animals. Then I tip-toed out of the house and drove back to my apartment.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LYING in my bed, with the pale dawn sunlight coming through a gap in the curtains, I marvelled that my association with Eve had lasted so long. She had done everything in her power to destroy my feelings for her. She had behaved with incredible selfishness, and brutal indifference and it was only because I had been so utterly infatuated with her that the association had lasted as long as it had.
I had had a narrow escape. It frightened me to think what might have happened if I had continued to associate with her. And while I thought of this, I took time to consider my past life as a whole and I realized what an unscrupulous, dishonest fool I had been. I thought of John Couslon, I thought of Carol. I thought of Imgram. I thought of the many mean and cruel things I had done in the past and, in something like panic, I searched my memory for some deed that could go on the credit side of my page of self-judgment. I could think of nothing. At the age of forty I had not one single thing to be proud of — except perhaps one. I had walked out of Eve’s life. Since I had been strong minded enough to do that surely there was still time for me to recover my self-respect and my position as a writer.
But I knew that the task was too overwhelming for me to undertake alone. There was one person who could help me. I must see Carol. I experienced a sudden feeling of tenderness and affection for her. I had treated her shamefully and I was determined I would never again hurt or grieve her. It was unthinkable that she should marry Gold. I would see her today.
I rang for Russell.
He came a few minutes later with my morning coffee which he put on the table by my bed.
“Russell,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow, “I’ve been an incredible fool. I’ve been thinking about it half the night and I’m going to pull myself together. I’m seeing Miss Rae this morning.”
He gave me a long searching look, raised his eyebrows and walked over to the windows to pull the curtains.
“I take it Miss Marlow was not accommodating last night, Mr. Clive?”
I had to laugh. “How did you guess?” I asked, lighting a cigarette. “You know everything, don’t you? Well, I did see her last night. I saw her as she really is and not as I’ve been trying to imagine she is. It’s a hell of a difference. She was tight and . . . but never mind the details. My God, Russell, I’ve had a narrow escape. I’m through with her and I’m going to start work today. But first, I’m seeing Carol.” I looked at him. There was a sudden brightness in his eyes and I knew that he was pleased and relieved. “Do you think she’ll have anything to do with me?”
“I hope so, sir,” he said gravely. “It will depend on how you approach her.”
“I know.” I experienced a sudden feeling of doubt. “After the way I’ve treated her I can’t expect it to be easy, but if she’ll only listen to me, perhaps I’ll make her understand.”
It was just after nine thirty when I walked into Carol’s sitting room.
Carol came in after a few minutes. She was pale and there were dark smudges under her eyes.
“I’m glad you came, Clive,” she said and sat down with her hands in her lap.
“I had to come,” I said, not moving from the window, but turning to look at her, suddenly scared that I was going to lose her. “I’ve been an awful fool, Carol. May I talk to you about it all?”
“I suppose so,” she said listlessly. “Sit down, Clive, there’s no need for you to be nervous with me.”
There was something in the flatness of her voice that worried me. I had a feeling that she might not care very much what I was going to say.
I sat down near her.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the rotten things I said to you. I was crazy. I didn’t know what I was saying.”
She held up her hand. “There’s no need to go over that. You’re in trouble, aren’t you, Clive?”
“Trouble? Do you mean Gold? No, that’s all right. I couldn’t care less about Gold. I’ve thought it all out that’s why I’ve come to see you.”
She looked at me sharply. “I thought . . .” she began, but stopped and looked down at her hands.
“You thought I was coming to ask you to plead my case with Gold, didn’t you? Merle wanted me to, but I said no. It isn’t that at all. I don’t care what Gold does. I don’t care if he buys my script or not. In fact, I don’t think now I’ll even write it. I’m through with all that. I’ve come to say I’m sorry for the beastly things I said and to tell you that I’m beginning work in a day or so.”