times did I sew up that back belt loop on your old trousers? You must have someone very faithful and clever to turn you out like this.”
“Mother, sisters, and Papa’s charge accounts, but I’ve got my trunks in the car—just in case you didn’t recognize me.”
We went to the pool, which we had to ourselves, except for the white-haired custodian who issued locker keys and towels before she disappeared again to the company of her newspaper and never-quite-finished cup of tea.
Lying in the California sun, we talked about the Mediterranean, remembering the beautiful bell we had found in a derelict chapel, a half-wild hunting dog that looked like a deer, an English professor and his mistress who had come to the hotel one night for dinner.
“Where’s Pete now?” I finally asked.
“Back in Paris or in Spain, I suppose. We don’t write.” When I didn’t comment, Andrew propped himself up on his elbow to look down at me. “Did you leave because of Pete and me or just because of me?”
“Neither,” I said.
“I guess Esther’s told you all the humiliating details.”
“None at all, humiliating or otherwise. Oh, I heard about a dinner in Madrid, a show opening in Paris, that kind of thing.”
“That was kind of her, I suppose. After you left—oh, it was comic really, Esther running after Pete, Pete running after me, me running after Esther. It kept us together, anyway, but it was a magic circle before you left, Kate. Why did you go?”
“I had some chasing of my own to do,” I said.
“Did you catch anything?” he asked amiably.
I held up my hands to measure a fish. “How’s the dragon slaying been in Alberta?”
“Bad,” he said. “I want to be at Cambridge next year for my Ph.D. This time the whole family’s against it, but I’ll go finally, after a lot of unpleasantness. Are you going over?”
“I think so, to LSE. Esther wants to go to Slade.”
“What do you plan to do, Kate?”
“Work. Salvation through work.”
“At what, though?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve got to get out of the theoretical and into the real world. It’s teach and write articles, or be a spy and a humanitarian. I’ll have to see.”
“But never a princess.”
“Certainly not,” I said, smiling. “In real life there’s a difference between a bastard and a king’s daughter. Are you going to take me out to dinner?”
“I am.”
Andrew took me out to dinner not only that night but on Sunday night and Monday night as well.
“Now look,” I said as I got into the car on Monday night, “I want no more of this south sea island curry with Hungarian violins at two hundred dollars a martini. Let’s go to the local steak-house.”
“All right,” Andrew agreed, “but in Calgary there’s not much else. It’s nice not to have to struggle to spend money for a change. I’ll go to the steak-house with you tonight if you’ll drive to the ocean with me on Wednesday.”
“I can’t, Andy. I have to work. Aren’t you going to get in touch with Esther? Why don’t you ask her?”
“Canadian social customs,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think it was the thing to date two girls at once, particularly if they were friends. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not. Why should I?”
“I sometimes wonder why you don’t completely destroy my ego,” Andrew said, sighing. “I thought maybe at least I was a status symbol: rich, handsome—”
“Ah, you are, but there never seems to be anyone around to admire you. It’s a pity.”
As if to contradict me, Monk hailed us as we walked into the steak-house. She was on what she called “public mating business” with Robin Clark, her brother’s social worker, “And, of course, my own.”
“Are you Andy… the Andy of Spanish fame?” she asked at once.
“I’m afraid so.”
He and Robin shook hands, Robin at an awkwardly balanced disadvantage behind the table, while Monk and I measured them against each other. I let myself enjoy
“Mother, sisters, and Papa’s charge accounts, but I’ve got my trunks in the car—just in case you didn’t recognize me.”
We went to the pool, which we had to ourselves, except for the white-haired custodian who issued locker keys and towels before she disappeared again to the company of her newspaper and never-quite-finished cup of tea.
Lying in the California sun, we talked about the Mediterranean, remembering the beautiful bell we had found in a derelict chapel, a half-wild hunting dog that looked like a deer, an English professor and his mistress who had come to the hotel one night for dinner.
“Where’s Pete now?” I finally asked.
“Back in Paris or in Spain, I suppose. We don’t write.” When I didn’t comment, Andrew propped himself up on his elbow to look down at me. “Did you leave because of Pete and me or just because of me?”
“Neither,” I said.
“I guess Esther’s told you all the humiliating details.”
“None at all, humiliating or otherwise. Oh, I heard about a dinner in Madrid, a show opening in Paris, that kind of thing.”
“That was kind of her, I suppose. After you left—oh, it was comic really, Esther running after Pete, Pete running after me, me running after Esther. It kept us together, anyway, but it was a magic circle before you left, Kate. Why did you go?”
“I had some chasing of my own to do,” I said.
“Did you catch anything?” he asked amiably.
I held up my hands to measure a fish. “How’s the dragon slaying been in Alberta?”
“Bad,” he said. “I want to be at Cambridge next year for my Ph.D. This time the whole family’s against it, but I’ll go finally, after a lot of unpleasantness. Are you going over?”
“I think so, to LSE. Esther wants to go to Slade.”
“What do you plan to do, Kate?”
“Work. Salvation through work.”
“At what, though?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ve got to get out of the theoretical and into the real world. It’s teach and write articles, or be a spy and a humanitarian. I’ll have to see.”
“But never a princess.”
“Certainly not,” I said, smiling. “In real life there’s a difference between a bastard and a king’s daughter. Are you going to take me out to dinner?”
“I am.”
Andrew took me out to dinner not only that night but on Sunday night and Monday night as well.
“Now look,” I said as I got into the car on Monday night, “I want no more of this south sea island curry with Hungarian violins at two hundred dollars a martini. Let’s go to the local steak-house.”
“All right,” Andrew agreed, “but in Calgary there’s not much else. It’s nice not to have to struggle to spend money for a change. I’ll go to the steak-house with you tonight if you’ll drive to the ocean with me on Wednesday.”
“I can’t, Andy. I have to work. Aren’t you going to get in touch with Esther? Why don’t you ask her?”
“Canadian social customs,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think it was the thing to date two girls at once, particularly if they were friends. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not. Why should I?”
“I sometimes wonder why you don’t completely destroy my ego,” Andrew said, sighing. “I thought maybe at least I was a status symbol: rich, handsome—”
“Ah, you are, but there never seems to be anyone around to admire you. It’s a pity.”
As if to contradict me, Monk hailed us as we walked into the steak-house. She was on what she called “public mating business” with Robin Clark, her brother’s social worker, “And, of course, my own.”
“Are you Andy… the Andy of Spanish fame?” she asked at once.
“I’m afraid so.”
He and Robin shook hands, Robin at an awkwardly balanced disadvantage behind the table, while Monk and I measured them against each other. I let myself enjoy
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