Deceptions (45 page)

'But I have no idea how to behave with them.'

'Any way you want.'

'Garth, what do you want? I can be wide-eyed and eager, or cold and disdainful, or cool but friendly-what would you like?'

'Look, my love, you're not playing a role. I just want you to be yourself.'

She looked at him, her lips slightly parted. 'I'll do my best.'

There were three of them waiting in the president's reception room when the limousine pulled up to the executive headquarters of Foster Laboratories in Stamford, a town much like Evanston, some thirty miles from New York. The steel and glass building rose from a marble plaza floating in a sea of grass with fountains, groves of pine trees and undulating chrysanthemum beds lining the half-mile-long driveway.

The women wore wool suits, blue and brown and green. They stood in a row in the huge, rosewood-paneled reception room, sinking slightly into the wool pile beneath their feet. Nearby, massive suede couches curved around a glass table resting on chromium scrolls. Here and there on the expanse of carpet stood illuminated Incite pillars with objects displayed inside them like rare jewels: hypodermic needles, time capsules, packets of pills, bottles of colored liquid.

The women gave Sabrina and Garth time to be awed by the dazzling scene. Garth said nothing. Sabrina knew he was unimpressed by carefully staged grandeur; in fact, he barely noticed it. He was more interested in a well-equipped laboratory, or even the inner workings of their new food processor, than in all the rosewood in Connecticut.

But she knew their hostesses expected the Andersens to be overwhelmed, so she turned her head to take in the entire room. 'Grand,' she murmured. 'Opulent.'

The women smiled and held out their hands to her, with sidelong glances at Garth, who turned out to be younger and far more handsome than expected. When he was whisked away by their dark-suited husbands, they concentrated on Sabrina. 'We meet again,* said one. 'Welcome to Stamford.'

It took Sabrina by surprise. Stephanie hadn't visited Stamford. This woman must have been in Evanston, then.

Why hadn't Garth mentioned it? 'We're glad to be here,' she said, but there had been a perceptible pause.

Too many new faces,' said another of the women casually, coming to Sabrina's aid. 'Of course you remember Irma Kallen—'

'President,' Irma Kallen put in quickly.

'From the time she was passing through Chicago on her way to Los Angeles,' went on Sabrina's savior, supplying details. 'And I'm Freddie Payne, vice president, finance.'

'Angie Warner,' chimed the third, 'vice president, manufacturing.'

This time Sabrina was quicker, understanding that they were identifying themselves with their husband's titles. She smiled 'Stephanie Andersen, professor.' Freddie Payne grinned but shook her head slightly in warning. Bad beginning, Sabrina thought. Try again. 'We've been so looking forward to our visit.'

'Ah,' said Irma Kallen. 'We wondered. It has been postponed so many times.'

'We want you to love our town,' Angie Warner said quickly. Short and plump, she had the angelic face and rosebud mouth of a peacemaker. 'We want you to love us. We thought a short tour on the way to lunch at Irma's, and then a visit to the school and the Women's Club, if that seems all right... if that pleases you ...'

Sabrina bowed her head in agreement. How could she disagree with Angie Warner? Or, at the moment, with any of them? Their husbands earned upwards of three hundred thousand dollars a year; her husband earned thirty-five thousand. On their home ground, using their yardsticks of power and prestige, Sabrina was at a distinct disadvantage. She told herself to remember it.

Irma Kallen led the way to her car, a Silver Shadow that glided through wide, peaceful streets past churches two centuries old and a village green where a battle of the Revolutionary War had been fought. She pulled into the driveway of a three-story brick mansion with newly added rooms jutting out on all sides - like a demented chicken flapping its wings, Sabrina thought. She had uken a strong

dislike to Irma Kallen. But she's the president's wife, she told herself. Show respect.

Irma Kallen was tall and angular, long-chinned, with brown eyes that went in two directions, each unconcerned with what the other chose to look at. This caused difficulties for those around her who never knew which eye to meet in conversation. Sabrina chose the left and foimd herself in focus about half the time. Such a woman, whose looks made others nervous, and whose temper was short, would not take kindly to a visitor who was not only young and beautiful but also made light of her husband's title and, worse, forgot a previous meeting.

But Irma Kallen had a magnificent home, decorated with sophisticated imagination. Sabrina walked through the rooms impressed with the blend of two styles of simplicity: spare Shaker furniture and the more massive but still simple tum-of-the-century oak pieces of Philip Webb, stained with the green that was his trademark and decorated with lacquered leather or raised silver designs. She ran her hand over the delicate tracery on the piano. 'Webb,' she murmured. 'How marvelous.'

Irma looked startled and pleased. For a moment both eyes focused on Sabrina. 'How did you know that?'

'I know furniture,' said Sabrina. 'I work with antiques.*

'Oh,' cried Angie Warner, 'then you'll love Silvermine.' Sabrina looked a question. 'An artists' colony in Norwalk. Just a few miles away. We go there for shopping and lunch at least once a week.'

Freddie Payne chuckled. *I have a feeling Stephanie is way ahead of Silvermine. She probably knows more than anyone there. Even more than you, Irma.'

Sabrina looked alert. A private war. She had seen a skirmish earlier, in the car. 'It's Frederique,' Freddie had said, explaining her name. She was tall and striking, with thick black hair cut bluntly and heavy-lidded hazel eyes beneath dark brows. 'Frederique, firom some unknown French ancestor. But that doesn't go over big in Stamford. One does better as a Pilgrim. Irma is a Pilgrim, aren't you. Irma? Or rather, since even Irma is not that well preserved.

more likely one of her pirate ancestors was.' Irma ignored her.

At lunch, angelic Angie worked at keeping the peace between Irma and Freddie. The women held the rank of their husbands* so Irma, as president, was clearly chief ofQcer of the meal and of their entire social life; but she often allowed Angie to smooth edges made jagged by her temper.

Sabrina ate her broiled grapefruit and turkey Florentine and watched with amusement the same kind of small, swift, daggers-drawn drama she was used to among her circles in London. Of course, she thought, it exists everywhere, even in Evanston. But I never thought about it because I never thought of Evanston as anything but temporary.

Nothing with Garth is permanent.

She felt the familiar stab of pain at the thought. Irma's voice broke through. 'What?' Sabrina said. 'I'm sorry; I was thinking of something else.'

'I said,' Irma rapped out, 'we've planned a small dinner for this evening, at the club, so that you and your husband can meet all of us. You should know that we are a close-knit group. Many of the men in Stamford conmiute to New York, but we feel our duty is here. Foster is Stamford's most prestigious institution, and those of us who are its leaders are also leaders of the community. We strengthen Stamford; we do not take our money to New York. This is a responsibility we bear gladly, but it is effective only if we stay together. Freddie thinks this is foolish - she has a number of strange friends—'

'Whose husbands aren't executives,' Freddie said solemnly to Sabrina.

'But Freddie never wanders too far,* Irma continued. 'Because we all need each other, as you will discover when your husband joins us. And with our help you will learn quickly how to be one of us. The fact that you have much to learn need not embarrass you. Coming from the Midwest you could not be expected to know our ways.'

Sabrina Ustened, wide-eyed and silent, as Irma went on. 'Our way of life filters slowly to the rest of the country. Often, of course, by the time others pattern themselves after us, we have developed new styles.'

Angle looked embarrassed; Freddie winked at Sabrina. Sabrina looked steadily at Irma's precise mouth. 'We take as our model the cultured centers of Europe. We dine later, for example, than you do: eight o'clock; even, on occasion, nine. Six o'clock, of course, is proper for the children. We do not eat in backyards; we do not barbecue our food in clouds of foul smoke. We do not wear one-piece clothes such as jumpsuits and overalls. We support the pubhc schools as essential to our town, but we do not send our children to them. You have children, of course.'

Two.' Sabrina said automatically. She was fascinated* almost mesmerized, by Irma's chant. *A boy and a girl.'

'And you are raising them as good Christians.'

'I think we are raising Cliff to be a soccer forward,' said Sabrina. 'We're not sure yet about Penny.'

Freddie burst into laughter; Angie giggled. Irma seemed frozen, coffee cup raised halfway to her mouth. 'Those of us who are blessed with material wealth uke our responsibilities seriously.'

'It's all right, Stephanie,' Angie said brightly, aware that Irma was making a fool of herself. Angie didn't know exactly what it was- maybe the way Stephanie identified the Webb piano, or her steady, unimpressed gaze on Irma's face, or the regal way she held her head. Or her beauty, which Angie envied simply and good-naturedly, the way she envied one woman's cooking or another's needlepoint. Whatever it was, Angie knew Stephanie was no country girl, and she didn't want her to judge them by Irma's treating her Uke one. 'Irma's always serious with new people, but in our group she's lots of fun. She plays tennis, and I really have to work to keep up with her, and sometimes we get her on the volleyball court. Not often,' she added with sad honesty, 'but sometimes.'

'We don't play too much volleyball in the Midwest,' Sabrina said earnestly, leaning forward and addressing Irma's left eye. 'Though progress has brought tennis right to our doorstep. But we do work hard to learn how to be sophisticated. Some of us occasionally wear Karl Lagerfeld or Peny Ellis designs. Now and then we serve wine with dinner - Montrachet, or perhaps a Brouilly if red seems

appropriate. And lately our more daring hostesses have begun serving the salad after the entree rather than before. Of course we have to work veiy hard at it. But you may be sure we are grateful for all you allow us to learn from you.*

There was a long silence. Angie tried to smile, but her lips were trembling. Freddie said, 'Well, I'll be damned. Over to you, Irma. On second thought, never mind.' She turned to Sabrina. 'Irma told us you were a shy little housewife from the sticks. Irma, love, you must send your first impressions to bed without any dinner. They have failed you badly.* She pushed back her chair. 'Stephanie, let's look at the terrace.*

Sabrina sat still. Damn, Oh, damn. What is wrong with me? Stephanie would have worried about Garth; she would have been quiet and sweet and let the president's wife feel superior. Now I've messed it up, Stephanie would have acted for Garth. I acted for myself. Why in heaven's name did I let this silly woman get to me?

'Stephanie?' Freddie said. Sabrina excused herself and followed her though the folding doors. The two women sat on a low brick wall surrounding the flagstone terrace. Huge redwood planters with late roses and asters stood beside white wrought-iron furniture not yet stored for the winter. Beyond the wall a crew of gardeners raked fallen leaves and planted bulbs for next spring's tulips and hyacinths. Another crew was fitting a tarpaulin over the swimming pool while a third rolled up the nets in the tennis courts. It was a peaceful scene of abundance - so perfect, Sabrina thought, it might have been staged to illustrate the benefits of joining the Foster team.

'She can be harmful, but not regally dangerous,' Freddie said. 'Unless you give her that power. The trick is to understand that she is a fool who must be taken seriously.'

Sabrina shrugged. 'I would only take her seriously if Garth asked me to.'

Freddie was surprised. 'Why else are you here?'

'To look around. To be looked at. Why do you all assume it's settled? Isn't there any room for doubt?'

'Look, sweetie, I don't know what your husband told you, but he is not here for an interview. This is a formal session

for the men to work out the details of the job, and for us to make sure your little heart flutters with delight at becoming one of us. From what I've heard, you're moving here when the current school quarter ends.'

Sabrina felt betrayed. Garth hadn't told her it was decided. Would he really take the job without talking it over with her? They always talked things over.

'Hey,' Freddie said. 'It's okay. Ignore Irma. She's a small piece of the scenery. Though I suggest, to make things easier when you move here, that you revive the act you put on for her in Chicago. You'll have a few required exercises: dinner parties with the correct guests, a few luncheons, sponsorship of a couple of charity affairs and some command appearances at Irma's parties-you do have to get along with her. But the rest of the time you can be yourself. As long as you're discreet, you can be anything you want, with anyone you want. It's not a bad way of life, you know.'

'I know.' Sabrina stood and brushed off her skirt. Stephanie could manage it; she could be what Irma expected, without getting angry but also without sinking into their little group as Angle, and even Freddie, had done. Stephanie could have a good time here.

She thanked Freddie. 'You rescued me twice; I'm very grateful. But now I think I'd better mend my own fences.' And returning to the dining room she made her apologies. 'So rude of me ... too many new impressions ... lunch was delicious... the conversation so pleasant...'

Irma put a hand to her perfectly smooth hair and smoothed it. 'We accept your apology. My husband thinks your husband will be a great asset to the Laboratories. Shall we have our little tour now?'

They drove through the town, inspected the new high school, visited the hospital where Irma was director of volunteers, parked along the shore of Long Island Sound and watched sailboats that made Sabrina think of home. Then they returned to the headquarters of Foster Laboratories and picked up Garth and the husbands of Sabrina's hostesses and went to dine at the club, so Sabrina and Garth could meet the people they were supposed to know.