Brett Halliday - She Woke to Darkness

Doris was a short, plump blonde with rounded features that normally wore an all-embracing smile for the world to see. Now, her eyes were stormy, her full lips compressed with anger. She wore a blue robe belted tightly around her waist, and pink satin mules.

Aline stepped inside and said swiftly, “I’m sorry, Doris. Truly I am. But I had to talk to you. Look, if you’ve got a man in your bedroom, don’t mind me. I’m not on the vice squad, and God knows I’m not interested in your morals.”

Color flamed in Doris’ cheeks. “What a horrible thing to say. What ever made you think that?”

Aline shrugged and looked around the small, disordered sitting room. “I couldn’t think of any other reason why you kept me locked out.”

“I told you I’ve got a hangover and am dying for sleep,” wailed Doris. “Can’t you wait till morning?”

“No. This can’t wait.” Aline twisted her hands and her eyes were forlorn. “I’m frightened. I did it again tonight at Bart’s. Sort of. Passed out, you know. Not completely, but there are a few blank spots. I want to know everything I did. Was I pretty awful towards the end?”

Doris sighed and sat down at one end of the shabby studio couch and motioned Aline to a chair nearby. “Not too awful, I guess,” she said judicially. “How much do you remember? Having the fight with Ralph?”

Aline looked at her sharply, wondering whether Doris suspected that she knew Ralph was in the bedroom listening. Or didn’t she realize that Aline had recognized his car parked outside?

After carefully considering several responses, Aline said weakly, “A fight with Ralph? What did we fight about? I don’t remember it at all.”

“About you and Dirk, I guess.” Doris’ voice was barbed. “You certainly remember Dirk being there.”

Oh, yes. Aline remembered Dirk, big and blond and boyishly handsome. It was the first time she had seen him at a party without his wife. She remembered sitting on a window seat with him, a little removed from the others, who milled around with drinks in their hands. She recalled Dirk’s twisted smile as he explained that he was a misunderstood husband who needed comforting. So, she had comforted him a little. It hadn’t been anything important. Pleasant at the time, but not important. Dirk kissed easily and well, and his big hands were gentle and knowing in their caresses.

She said, wonderingly, “Why would Ralph want to fight with me about Dirk? He doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Doris shrugged. “You’d better ask Ralph that. I’m sure I don’t know why he’d be upset.”

Anger stirred in Aline and her eyes narrowed. “All right,” she said viciously. “I will ask him, since you suggest it.” She came to her feet in one lithe movement and swung out through the hall leading to the closed bedroom door before Doris could stop her.

With a choked cry of protest, Doris ran after her, caught her just as she started to turn the doorknob. She twined her fingers in Aline’s brown curls and jerked her back before she could open the door, sobbing hysterically.

“You stay out of there. You’re crazy. I won’t let you…”

Aline twisted around and slapped the pudgy, tear-wet face resoundingly. Doris released her hair and fell backward against the wall, her lips working in and out soundlessly, her eyes round with fear and surprise.

The bedroom door opened. Fully dressed and completely unruffled, Ralph smiled quizzically and said in his quiet, rich voice:

“Now, now, girls. Mustn’t fight over me. I’m really not worth it, you know.”

Aline faced him, stiffly erect and her eyes filled with scorn. She said bitingly, “I couldn’t agree more. Why don’t you come in and be cozy instead of skulking in the bedroom?”

Ralph smiled at her. He had dark wavy hair and the blandly handsome features of a man of small intellect. He said smoothly, “Just doing the gentlemanly thing, my dear Aline. Now you’ve discovered our little secret, we will be cozy.”

Doris was still leaning against the wall, sobbing. Ralph went over and put an arm around her shaking shoulders, drew her close and kissed her lips, then turned her to follow Aline who had stalked back to the living room.

Ralph soothed Doris: “Don’t take it so hard, my sweet. I’ve told you over and over that Aline has no reason in the world to care what you and I do together. Isn’t that right, Aline dear?”

“Perfectly right.” She sat stiffly erect in her chair and watched Ralph lead Doris to the couch and settle her beside him with a protecting arm around her shoulder and her face snuggled against his chest.

How could she ever have been taken in by him, Aline wondered bitterly? How could she have thought him charming and sophisticated?

“So why,” she demanded, “did you give one little damn what Dirk and I did at Bart’s party?”

“But I didn’t,” he protested. “What on earth gave you that idea? Were you so tight you don’t remember?”

“All right, so I was tight. Doris told me that you and I fought about Dirk.”

“Dear Doris,” he murmured, smiling down at the blonde head against his chest. “She invariably gets things wrong. I told her I wasn’t in the least concerned about whom you played around with. You started the ruckus, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” she snapped. “I’ve admitted I was tight. I’m just trying to make some sense out of what happened at Bart’s. When did I leave the party? Where did I go?”

“Oh, oh.” Ralph’s tone was smug, knowing. “You mean you pulled another of your famous blackouts?”

“Not exactly. Not like last time.” Did Doris know all about last time, she wondered? She knew about it, of course, but she was aware that Ralph was the man Aline had waked up in bed with the next morning? Aline didn’t think so. But Doris might have heard rumors… might have guessed the truth.

“I was drunk,” Aline went on candidly. “I vaguely remember all sorts of things. Like our fight, but I haven’t the foggiest idea how it began… or ended.”

“Then I shan’t disillusion you,” Ralph told her heartily. He was making like a big brother now. “It really wasn’t important and you’re better off not remembering too much. What else comes through?” he ended with a sharpened note in his voice.

“There was some man,” Aline faltered. “Someone I’d never seen before.”

“There was, indeed. A Mr. Torn, wasn’t it? Didn’t I hear him being introduced as Vincent Torn?”

“I don’t know. Describe him.”

Ralph chuckled. “After all, my dear Aline, who should be better able to describe him than you?”

“But I tell you there are gaps.”

Ralph shrugged his broad shoulders. “He wasn’t the type who lends himself to description. Mediocre, that’s it. Nondescript. What you can see in a fellow like that…” He shook his head sadly over the vagaries of women.

“Did I leave the party with him?” Aline asked fearfully.

“I’m not sure, but I’m positive you did if you were able to drag him away.” Ralph put two fingers under Doris’ chin and lifted her face. “Did you see Aline leave, sweet?”

“I thought she went with you.” Doris’ voice was husky. She cleared her throat and added, “You both disappeared about the same time.”

“But you can’t be positive?” Aline asked her.

“No, but I asked two or three people and they told me not to worry about you… that Ralph could be trusted to take good care of you,” Doris gave a short, harsh laugh.

Ralph smiled indulgently. “Which I could be, of course, if I had escorted you home, Aline. But I left the party alone, while you were still there. You can ask Bart,” he went on swiftly. “He argued about my leaving so early. I couldn’t tell him that you and I,” he gave Doris a squeeze, “had plans for later on.”