Fire in the Morning

Chapter 9

• N I N E JARLY after dinner that Thursday afternoon, Elinor stood by the staircase in the hall of Simon Gerrard's house and squalled for Miss Henrietta until the roots of her hair were damp from the exertion . There was no answer. For a minute she stared morosely up the ornate banister and seemed to see beyond the many upper rooms flankingthe little dark halls which ran among them, other stairs into smaller rooms, turrets and the like, how much she could never get straight, nor cared to. She shrugged and poked out her lower lip in a characteristic gesture of dismissal and, walking into the living room, flopped down into an overstuffed chair and kicked off her shoes. When the ash of her cigarette grew heavy she reached out for the smoking stand, but her fingertips just missed the handle and the ashes fell to the floor beside a torn slip, a pair of eyebrow tweezers, two bottles of red fingernail polish, odorous and gummy at the caps, and one white and blue striped play shoe. Shehad lighted another cigarette from the stub when Justin walked in from the hall, barefoot and naked except for step-ins. She had a wad of nondescript clothes in one hand and seemed to have some vague notion of holding it in front of her breasts. She was halfway across the room before she noticed her sister-inlaw . "Oh, Elinor. What are you doing over here?" "Act like you didn't hear me screaming my head off." "I was in the tub." "There's supposed to be a package here for me. Miss Henrietta called yesterday. Said Simon brought it home. Mistake. Too hot to talk even." 137 E "Isn't it?" Justin sat opposite her, dropping the clothes on the floor. "I just took a bath and look." She rolled dirt from her bare shoulder and watched the process reflectively. "Date?" "Uh-huh." "Scott?" "Uh-huh." "Thank God that's one thing I don't have to fool with anymore. Not saying anything for married life, but thank God I'm not having to dress for a date." Justin shot her a glance. "Tell me." "I am telling you. It's what I'm doing." "All right. You're telling me. Gimme a cigarette." She caught the pack and settled deeper into the chair. "God, this stuff is sticking me." She clawed at her back where the upholstery had rubbed, looked about and considered moving, then settled back again. She became fascinated by the sight of her breasts, touched her fingers to them gently and laughed. "Elinor, you remember how I used to run everybody crazy so scared I'd be flat?" "Well, nobody's going to believe that now," said Elinor, caustically . She would have liked an inch or two more herself. "I told Scott last night. He thought it was funny." "Since you discussed your bosom last night, what will you find to talk about tonight?" Justin stretched her lovely, golden tan body, completely unabashed . "Oh, there's enough left, I guess, before we get into politics and the weather." Elinor's eyes went over her, head to toe. "God," she said at last. "Justin, you're acting like a damn fool." "You're just jealousand you know it." "You'll find out who's jealous when that little blue coupe leaves you with dust all over your sun tan oil." "I'll think about that when and if it happens, thank you. Where 138 are you going. Not leaving, I hope." "I came to see about—" The front door banged. "Well." Justin made a motion toward the clothes. "Well, say who it is, Elinor." "Simon. What's he doing home at this hour? Oh, Thursday, of course. And Lance." "Elinor? Hello, Elinor," Simon boomed from the door. "Stay out of here," Justin called over the back of the chair. "Si-mon/" Miss Henrietta's voice streamed down the stair. "Lord help me," said Elinor, in a monotone to herself. "She was here all the time. Let me yell my head off, let him shut the front door — Stay out of here, Lance! Justin's naked as a jay bird." "Elinor, I've seen Justin naked more times than it would do to talk about, and right now I want a cigarette." Elinor called past her husband. "Simon, tell Miss Henrietta I'm here for the package...