James Chase - Lady—Here's Your Wreath

She nodded.

I got a swell feeling just standing looking at her. “Mind if we go soon?”

She shook her head. “When you like,” she said.

Hughson came back with the gin-and-lime. When he saw me his face darkened. “On your way, big boy,” he said. “There’s a virgin in the kitchen waiting for you.”

I shook my head. “You’re too late. Mardi an’ me are old friends. She’s just having the drink an’ we’re going home… together and alone.”

Hughson turned to Mardi. “I’ve warned you about this guy,” he said heatedly. “He spends all his time grabbing things that don’t belong to him and wrecking homes.”

Mardi laughed. “I feel like being wrecked right now,” she said. “It’s getting late, Barry, and I ought to go.”

Hughson groaned. “Give me one more dance and I’ll let you,” he said. “You had much better let me see you home.”

I nodded to her behind his back. I didn’t want this to look too sudden. They danced off together and I went over to Ackie. I told him I was moving off.

He was so plastered that he didn’t care if I was going to commit suicide. “Don’t be hard on her,” he said, screwing up his eyes. “She looks a swell girl.”

I signalled to Mardi that I’d meet her downstairs. I didn’t want Dawn to arrive just as we were going. I need not have worried my head about her. She had passed out under the kitchen table.

Five minutes later Mardi came running down the stairs. She wore a perky little hat and a nice fur coat. She looked good.

We didn’t have to wait long before a taxi crawled by. I waved and he pulled up at the kerb. “Where shall I tell him?” I asked.

She hesitated. Then she said: “I—I haven’t got a home any more… do you think I could put up at a hotel or somewhere?”

I gaped at her. “Have you got any luggage?”

She nodded. “It’s at the station,” she said. “I could go there first and collect it, but I want to catch an early train.”

I said: “If I suggest you come back to my place, I want you to know that I don’t mean anything wrong. I just offer you my roof and hope you will accept it.”

She stood looking into my face for several seconds, then she said: “Thank you. It’s nice of you.”

Hardly believing that I had heard correctly, I handed her into the taxi.

ON THE SHORT TRIP from Hughson’s apartment to my place we didn’t say a word. It was incredible to me that she was sitting by my side, willing to share my rooms with me, and I’d only known her for such a short time.

When a girl shows such willingness, I’m usually sure that I’m on to a good thing. With Mardi it was different. There was something about her that built up a surrounding wall that protected her from any mean thoughts that might come her way. I’m not going to say that every guy wouldn’t try to make a pass, but as far as I was concerned she got me like that.

She sat quietly in the corner of the taxi and looked out of the window. Every now and then, when we passed a street light, I could see her clearly. With that perky little hat on her head and the fur collar tight at her throat, she looked swell.

We got to my apartment and I paid off the taxi.

Quietly we crept up the stairs. I was nervous of the guy opposite me, but as it was getting on for two o’clock I guessed he’d be asleep.

We got into my apartment without disturbing any one. I shut the door, turned on the light and tossed my hat on the settee.

“Whew!” I said. “I was sure gettin’ the jitters comin’ up the stairs.”

She stood looking round the room. “But it’s nice,” she said. “What a lot of books you have… and isn’t that cute?”

She went over to examine my miniature bar in the corner. We both kept our voices low like two conspirators. I wandered over and got behind the counter. “What would you like?” I said. “Suppose we have some rye and ginger… it’s grand stuff to sleep on.”

She again looked at me. I could see she was just a little doubtful of me: not scared, but not quite sure.

I grinned at her. “Baby,” I said, “you don’t have to worry about me. I know what you’re thinkin’ but you can forget it. With another dame, yes, but with you, no. I guess you would never have come here if you didn’t want some help bad… well, I want to help, an’ there won’t be a cheque comin’ in.”

When I said that, she relaxed. She said: “Make it a very small rye and a lot of ginger.”

While I was fixing the drinks, she went over and sat in the big armchair. It was one of those chairs that give to the floor. From where I was standing I could see the top of her hat and a lot of her legs. She opened the fur coat and draped it over the side of the chair.

It was chilly, so I switched on the little electric stove I used between the periods when the steam heat was off and the evenings got cold.

I came over with the drinks and gave her one of the glasses. Then, leaning against the mantelshelf, I nodded to her over the rim. “Safe landin’,” I said, and we drank.

She lay back in the armchair, holding the glass in one hand, and for a minute shut her eyes. I didn’t hurry her. I guessed she wanted to get her facts together, and I was happy enough to stand and watch her.

“I do want your help,” she said at last, looking up at me.

“All right. You’re goin’ to have it. If you’re in a jam, you don’t have to get scared. We’ll work it out together.”

“Why, Mr. Mason, are you doing this for me?”

With an opening like that I wasn’t going to act the village hick. “Because I’m crazy about you,” I said. “You’re the first girl I’ve met that I can look at and talk to without wondering if I could take you for a ride. You’re the first girl I’ve met who’s got everything and yet… and yet… oh, hell! I can’t explain it… but, you’ve got me jumping through hoops….”

This outburst startled her all right. She tried to struggle out of the chair.

“Now wait a minute,” I said hastily. “You asked me an’ I’ve told you. That doesn’t mean that you an’ I aren’t still on the level with each other. I don’t want you to think I’m just putting on an act. I’m not. I’m being straight with you, so for the love of Mike don’t start thinkin’ up wrong angles to this.”

She sank back into the chair. “Really, Mr. Mason…” she began.

“Listen, could you make it ‘Nick’? I won’t insist if you don’t feel you can, but it would tickle me to death.”

She laughed at me. “You’re crazy,” she said. “But you’re nice. Thank you for saying what you have said. I want someone who will tell me what to do. I think I’m very lucky to find you.”

Can you tie that? She thought she was lucky to find me! Now I ask you!

When I got over it, I said: “Okay, now suppose you tell me what it’s all about?”

She handed the glass back to me. “I don’t want any more.” Then she got out of the chair and took off her hat and coat. She was wearing a dark-green evening thing that fitted her like a snake-skin and spread out into a full skirt. I reckoned that cost plenty of money.

“May I have a cigarette?”

She could have had the moon. I lit it for her and she sat on the arm of the chair. “This is the craziest thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said at last. “Perhaps I’d better start at the beginning. You remember the day when you took me out to lunch?”

I nodded. Remember the day? Why, I’d got it tattooed on my brain.

“When I got back, Mr. Spencer sent for me and was furious that I had gone out with you. I couldn’t just understand what he was talking about. I guess I got mad too and told him I’d go out with whom I liked in my lunch-hours. So he fired me.”