"What if they claim the swim is rigged because Maddy works for Vic, the promoter?" asked George.
"A swim is a swim is a swim," said Phil. "We'll have impartial judges. The first one in at Catalina and out at Point Vicente is the best swimmer and it doesn't matter who she's related to, or works for. It's a fair swim."
"I'm glad you said that," said Flair. "I'm going to swim, too. I'm going to hire my own trainer. And I'm going to win, too."
Having dropped her bombshell, she gave Maddy and the others a dirty look and left the room while the group stared after her in astonishment.
To Phil's sorrow the New Jersey group was broken up now. Flair's sudden decision to enter the swim and compete against Maddy was only the latest blow.
"How can she do in this race?" George asked Phil.
"Flair's a helluva swimmer," said Phil. "With the right training and some luck she could give us a bad time."
"How do you feel about Maddy now that she's… she's…"
Phil felt his face set sternly. "I dreamed up this whole thing for Maddy to begin with," he said. "It makes no difference to me that she's decided to marry Vic. I owe her a good winning swim and I'll give her my best."
Secretly he felt quite hurt. He realized that he'd counted on the old intimacy but it was gone. He had Maddy during the daytime but her nights belonged to Vic. Once the training started he began to scold her for her night time activities.
"You're losing sleep, f-f-fooling around with your fiance too much," he complained. "How can I bring you to top form when you dissipate my work each night?"
She merely gave him a cool, infuriating smile. "Look at my daily records. At this point in my training I'm way ahead of where I was when you and I worked together before. Love makes the difference."
He could've killed her.
Flair disassociated herself from the group. She found her own trainer and paid him from her own funds. When Phil complained to Vic he got practically no response.
"She has my guts," said Vic. "It's good for her to step out on her own."
"She could give us bad publicity."
"Maybe the public will go for my fiance and my daughter competing for the prize I give," said Vic proudly.
They did. The newspaper and radio stations also began to build interest in the endurance swim because it was open to all with no entrance fee, and the prizes were huge. Phil had had a fierce struggle with Vic on that.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars to the winner!" roared Vic. "That's five times too much!"
"Twenty-five, fifteen and ten," insisted Phil. "A channel swim is already thought to be a nutty, useless affair by most people. But nobody thinks twenty-five thousand dollars is silly, not even with Wall Street booming."
In the end he won his point, and it was a wise decision. The newspapers and the public would ignore some ego maniac making the swim to get his name in the papers. Or a small affair sponsored by some athletic club for a minor prize was only of limited local interest. But these days a whole family could live extremely well on twenty-five hundred dollars a year. A comfortable living for ten whole years was important money. Invested properly it could last the winner almost indefinitely.
So the entries poured in, as interest mounted, and the publicity for the Vic Singleton Invitational Swim grew across the nation and stimulated interest in foreign countries. Very soon a snowball effect carried them along to the delight of Vic.
"We've got a legless newspaper vendor from San Francisco, and a seventy-year-old entry from Nebraska," he told Phil. "One of the papers is going to start a daily column on us in December, and I'm almost tired of seeing my name in print. Me, Vic Singleton, a nobody from Jersey City, New Jersey. I got to hand it to you, Phillip."
But Phil could only answer with a dour "Thanks." For him it was afternoons in the training boat following Maddy's daily swims, directing her conditioning on land, watching her diet and worrying, as he spent lonely evenings alone in his hotel room. He was even deprived of the company of Texas Bunny who was lost somewhere inland a few miles in the dusty streets of Hollywood, trying to advance her singing career. Nights she had a job warbling in a small night club, so she didn't come around at all anymore.
By Thanksgiving he grew philosophical about it.
"Love and sex had crumbed up my life every time out," he told George. "At least this time there's no chance to spoil things that way."
"Considering that it almost got you killed with Vic and now you're his fair-haired boy, I'd say it didn't hurt you too much," George responded dryly. As Vic's main publicity man he found life quite interesting, especially when certain female, nubile entrants sought his after-hours company with the mistaken idea that they'd have a better chance if they could get close to an "insider".
The holidays came and went with Phil busy if not happy. He hardly noticed as the swim date of the middle of January rushed towards him.
On the night before the race all the contestants were brought by boat from the mainland to the Avalon settlement in Catalina. Hotels were filled; most camped in tents along the beach. There was a general carnival air to the whole area, with the rising excitement about tomorrow's race. Although more than three hundred people had entered during the long publicity build-up, the actual contestants were down to about a hundred and fifty on the last night before the event. The coldness of the water accounted for most of the dropouts, because in January the temperature ran between fifty-five to sixty-five degrees.
Vic Singleton's yacht had been brought around the canal from Atlantic City a couple of months earlier. On this last night he gave a candlelight dinner party for a select few in the big dining room. His guests included a sports editor, the head of the biggest radio station in the area, a motion picture mogul and officials from the Long Beach and Los Angeles city councils. The guests enjoyed champagne and steak as well as the presence of Flair, Maddy and Texas Bunny, whom Vic invited especially so she could meet the movie mogul.
It was to be a truce for the night but of course Maddy and Flair who had to swim tomorrow could not stay late.
After the dinner was over, Maddy, eyes shining, took Phil by the hand.
"Come to the stateroom," she begged. "I want you to see my wedding gown. It's the most gorgeous creation I ever saw."
Phil had already seen her wedding gown. Flair had dragged him there when he first arrived. It was indeed an expensive affair of white satin and veils, displayed on a dresser's dummy in the big bedroom. To Phil it looked like enough cloth and train to cover three brides. Both the gown and the room left a sour taste in his mouth. It was here that he'd first pronged Flair but it was also here that he'd seen Vic screw the love of his life and change everything.
"Very fine," he murmured to Flair.
"What are you going to do about it!" cried Flair. "Right after the race that slut is going to marry my father!"
What Phil did about it was haul off and slap Flair a resounding smack on the face. His nerves were screwed up to the breaking point, but Maddy was no slut. He stalked back to the dinner, leaving Flair shocked and in silence, glaring after him in rage.
Now with the dinner over, Maddy wanted him to see the dress for a second time and he had to go because he couldn't admit he'd seen it already. On the night before a big race you humored your star athlete. Flair sat with her father, head resting dreamily on his shoulder, monopolizing all his attention. Texas Bunny was involved with the movie mogul, George was making eyes at the nubile wife of one of the city officials, while the husband loaded on the champagne. Phil and Maddy slipped away.