The Dud Avocado - Elaine Dundy [63]
We stood there in the middle of the street waiting. “Dammit,” he said, fuming, “there’s a film director she knows I want to meet. What got into her anyway? She’s never been so unreasonable before.”
“It’s me,” I said. “It’s because I had an affair with Teddy.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“She’s his mistress.”
“What? Oh no, you’ve got that all wrong. They’ve known each other all their lives; they’re practically brother and sister.”
“Have it your own way. But that was the whole purpose of that charming dinner party he gave for us with Cousin John. It was revenge. He set her on you to get even with me, and it’s just dawned on me she set herself on you to get even with me for Teddy. Don’t you see? Don’t try to figure it out. What’s the difference anyway? They’re just a couple of pimps.”
My summing up must have had a profound effect on him, for he automatically started walking away and then suddenly he let out a shout of laughter. “Gorce,” he said, “you’re dead right. You’re right on the nose. That is just what they are. Now that we’ve got that settled—” I had caught up with him by now “—where shall we go?”
“The Rotonde’s near my hotel.”
“Good. We can walk there.”
He began teasing me about the Lesbian I’d been dancing with. He said he hadn’t put that in his course for Tourists, and he wanted to know what she’d written on the slip of paper he’d seen her hand me. I said it really was sad in a way—although it was funny, too, of course—all this fuss, and all she’d really wanted out of me was to find out how to get over to the States. That was why she’d given me her name and address. I’d told her I’d ask the Embassy about it and let her know. I mean I was all for it. Why not everybody change countries with everybody else?
Larry went into one of his funny furies. “Oh sure let her use you. Let everyone use you. Listen, Gorce, you’ve got to be tough. Which are you going to be—monster or doormat? It’s one or the other. Make up your mind,” and he strode off.
I called out that it was something I couldn’t decide right off like that, and hurried after him, but all the while I was crumbling inside. This race to keep up with Larry was such an Externalization of the problem, as the Stanislavsky boys would have it. I had no technique for dealing with him: only an overpowering, unnerving, irrational, chemical desire to be with him. Yes, all of that. The fear of losing his physical presence was tying my reflexes into such knots that I was incapable of behavior as such. When we got to the Rotonde, I sat in a miserable stupid downcast silence. The invisible thread that had been pulling us closer together all that past week was stretched to breaking point.
“What is the significance of you and the Contessa?” I asked him finally. I could have kicked myself for trying flippancy, but it was the only language I knew.
“The Contessa and I understand each other.”
“And we don’t?”
“No. We don’t.”
“Why?” asked the timid doormat.
“Well that’s a long story and I’m not going to tell it.” A pause. “I’ll bet you can’t guess what my father was. He was the golf pro at Farringdale.”
“What’s that?”
“Exactly. Anyone who knows knows that. Anyone who matters. Anyone of distinction, I mean. I learned my manners and my morals there and when dear old Daddy died I sort of became their mascot and I learned a few more things besides. Do you know what those fine old club members were white enough to do for this poor little orphan? They were white enough to take up a collection to send him to the very best schools. Yes sir, Larchmont High never saw my dust again. Now don’t you think that was petty damn white of them? Only naturally it was understood they weren’t going to be white enough——” He broke off suddenly with a crafty look. “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “I’m not sorry about anything. You don’t get the story of my life, you don’t.” He grinned, making one of his lightning switches back to