Forth into Light (The Peter & Charlie Trilogy) (37 page)

Jeff pulled himself out of the chair and approached with the new little sensual glide in his walk. “Is it all right now? Do you still mean what you said yesterday, that we’ll always belong to each other a little?”

“Of course, but don’t let me down again. And don’t let Mike mess you up.”

“I
am
a mess. I know that. Mike’s a pretty tough proposition for somebody who doesn’t know much about life, but every time I talk to you I feel as if everything will be all right. I’ll think of you when I feel I’m getting out of my depth. May I kiss you right?”

“Right, yes.” Jeff’s kiss was as chaste as Peter’s had been. Peter laughed and mussed his untidy hair. “Good boy. Which is Mike’s room?”

Jeff led him to it. There was a great deal of luggage about and expensive-looking haberdashery had been dropped here and there on the furniture. Peter looked around the walls where a package of pictures might be propped. He opened closet doors. He was closing one when he caught sight of a flat package on the top shelf of a wardrobe closet. He reached up and took it down. It felt right to his expert hands, stiff and rough and the right weight. The brown wrapping paper had been folded but not taped or tied in any way. Peter looked at Jeff.

“Do you think it would be prying to see what’s in here?”

“If it’s pictures, he was planning to show them to you. Go ahead.”

Peter pushed some silk handkerchiefs out of the way and lay the package out flat on a table. He unfolded the paper carefully and spread it open. Even though he was prepared for them, he felt a little shock at seeing Raoul’s pictures here, looking rather shabby without frame or stretcher. He flipped through them quickly and began to fold the paper around them again.

“Wasn’t that a Modigliani?” Jeff asked over his shoulder.

“It looks like one. I doubt if it is.” He flattened the paper into its former folds and put the package back on the closet shelf. He turned to Jeff. “I don’t think you better tell him I took a peek,” he said with an excited twinkle in his eye. “Tell him I’m here on business and came to see you. I’ll call him in the morning and find out if he still wants to talk to me. Do you know what time he usually gets up?”

“He said we had to be up at ten tomorrow. He wants me to do some errands for him before we go.”

“Right. Let’s see.” He took Jeff’s arm and they returned to the living room. “How about meeting me downstairs at noon? Have those statements with you. You can make them brief and to the point, but I want all the facts in the one for me. I think we can have the other one notarized in the hotel. If you want to change the time, call me when you get up. I’ve got a lot of calls to make in the morning so I’ll be here.” When they reached the door, he turned Jeff to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll see each other tomorrow, but we might not have a chance to talk. Promise you won’t play hookey from school. That’s the important thing.”

“I promise. Try to convince Dad that I’m not a mental case.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be difficult. Your father is a very wise and understanding guy. I don’t think he’ll like its being Mike but neither do I. If it weren’t so nearly time for you to leave anyway, I’d do everything I could to stop you. As it is—six weeks—well, you can get awfully hurt in six weeks. Send me your address. I’ll come up and see you as soon as I’m home.”

Jeff put his hand over Peter’s and pressed it against his shoulder. “I want so much to kiss you,” he blurted. “I don’t think I can do it right again. Say good-bye to Charlie for me. See you at noon.”

Peter nodded and smiled and let himself out. He sped along the corridor and ran down a grand staircase, not waiting for the elevator, and arrived panting in front of Judy’s door. He knocked and she let him in and he took her in his arms triumphantly. “A hit. A palpable hit,” he exclaimed. “Right on the nose. Tim should give you a whopping bonus for this. Did you finish the champagne?’

She laughed at his excitement. “We’d made rather a dent in it.”

He released her to ring for the waiter. When he turned back to her he saw that she was wearing nothing but the dressing gown that made her look so beautifully naked. Her dark hair fell softly around her scrubbed and radiant face. He was supposed to give this adorable creature a baby and think nothing more of it? Beware of scheming females. He threw off his jacket and began to unfasten his tie as he returned to her. There was a knock on the door and he veered off to it and ordered another bottle of wine. He threw his tie on a chair and went to her.

“Tell me everything,” she demanded as she began to unbutton his shirt for him.

“He has five of them,” he said, looking at his fingertips as he touched her face lightly with them. “Braque, Modigliani, and three Pisarros. The Braque is real. I know them all well.” He traced the exquisite curve of her upper lip with his forefinger. He started to lean forward to kiss it. There was another knock on the door and he closed his shirt over his chest to admit the waiter and the wine. When the waiter was gone, he opened the bottle and filled their glasses. He gave Judy hers and took a swallow of his before sitting to remove his shoes.

“What do we do now?” Judy asked.

“I’m going to call him in the morning and see if he still wants to talk to me. If he does, I’ll tell it to him straight. If not—well, we have a choice of saying the word and letting them put him through the wringer here, or turning it over to Tim and the U.S.A. I’m sort of in favor of the latter. It lets us out, so we have our time to ourselves, and Tim can make sure the pictures get back to their owner. God knows what might become of them here.” He pulled off a sock and waved it absent-mindedly while he made sure he had checked all the possibilities. “However it works, I hope Mike is ready with a good story.”

“Unless I’m much mistaken, he will be. How’s the island mystery?”

Peter shrugged and kicked off the other shoe. “All okay. I’ll fix it up tomorrow afternoon.” Barefoot, he stood and pulled off his shirt.

“You’re a very nice man, aren’t you?”

“Who? Me? What do you expect? Costa’s my friend.” He unfastened his trousers and peeled his shorts off with them. His sex sprang out from its confinement. He disentangled his feet and straightened and laughed. “That’s more like it. Take that thing off. I like to look at you too, you know.”

She unfastened the tie of her dressing gown and bared her shoulders and let it fall from her, revealing his ideal woman. He made a slow contented survey of the delights of her body. His loins tingled at the thought of filling it with life, but he knew he couldn’t accept her conditions and that therefore it mustn’t happen. That this was so told him how nearly she had brought his shadow self to life. Nearly, but not quite. If it remained a simple happy romp in the hay, maybe even he wouldn’t be hurt.

Peter was awakened by a knock on the door. In the moment it took him to emerge into consciousness, he became aware that the knock was being repeated in a private familiar rhythm. He twisted his head quickly and saw that Judy was still asleep. He slid away from her without making any abrupt movements and then leaped from the bed and ran to the other room, his erection subsiding as he went. He closed the communicating doors and locked them and hurried to the hall door. He stood behind it and opened it and peered around it. Charlie was standing at the next door. His first thoughts were guilty ones as if he had been caught red-handed. He reminded himself hastily that he had nothing to hide and had a moment to register his astonishment at this new arrival. “Hey,” he called and ducked back behind the door. “What in the world are you doing here?” he exclaimed as Charlie entered. Had something gone wrong at home?

Charlie glanced from the untouched bed to his naked mate and smiled in a way that was immediately reassuring. “You look so beautiful and tousled and sexy. Have you been up all night?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking.”

Charlie’s smile broadened. He closed the door and dropped a small bag on the floor and reached for him.

Peter ducked away. “Just a second, darling. Let me brush my teeth. You’ve just arrived? Is it that late?”

“After ten-thirty.”

“Wicked wicked me. Ring for some coffee, would you?” He trotted off to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “It’s lovely to see you.”

Charlie did as he was told and in a few moments Peter was back, his hair combed, a towel hitched around his waist. He went directly to where Charlie had seated himself and dropped to a knee and kissed his mouth. Charlie drew him closer and made it a real kiss so that Peter could feel his sex stirring against the towel, but Charlie was the first to pull back. Peter remained where he was, propped against the arm of the chair. “Well, tell all. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to help.” He stroked the side of Peter’s golden head and smiled teasingly. “I suspected you might have your hands full. I thought I could take over for Costa.” He reported what Sid had told him about Dimitri’s promise to return the money. Peter was telling about his talk with Jeff when there was a knock on the door and he rose and went to it and admitted the waiter with his breakfast tray. He poured a cup of coffee and sat on the edge of the bed with it.

“So it’s getting straightened out,” Charlie said. “Good. I should’ve known you’d have it all under control.”

“It makes it a lot easier if George has the money back. It’s good to know about that. How amazing of you to take all the trouble to let me know.”

“Sid and I thought I ought to.”

As the coffee cleared Peter’s mind of the last vestiges of sleep, he was able to assess the situation created by Charlie’s arrival. The secret knock on the door had added confusion to the confusion of waking and he knew that for the first few moments he had resisted, even resented, Charlie’s being here but, if anything, it removed any furtive element in his enjoyment of his girl; being together in rooms Peter was openly sharing with Judy confirmed their total understanding. Nothing quite like it had ever occurred before. It made him want to be near him, to touch him, to hold his hand and put an arm around his shoulder as a physical expression of their deep solidarity. Yet not in a sexual way, not while Judy was here. He laughed to himself. He wanted the impossible: he wanted Charlie to be with him and he wanted to be alone. The day promised to be odd and interesting. “I was sorry to run off without seeing you yesterday,” he said, looking across the room into Charlie’s eyes. “I was in a rush and I didn’t want to break up your morning.”

“Of course. I understood. Well, what do you think? Can I help out here or shall I take the afternoon boat back?”

“Oh, no. Just a second.” He drank off his coffee and rose and went to the telephone. He asked for Mike’s suite; after a brief wait, he was told that there was no reply. He hung up and told Charlie about finding the pictures.

“You really do have your hands full,” Charlie said.

It was an innocuous remark but Peter caught unfamiliar vibrations between them. Charlie’s habitual manner, aloof, amused, affectionate, was more positive this morning, sharper, more engaged and purposeful. He sensed a coiled-up power in him; it related to another period of their lives, before the children. He was intrigued and stimulated, as if they hadn’t been together for a long time. They disposed of the topics of immediate concern to them—Costa, Jeff, Mike, Dimitri—in a quick lively exchange laced with private levity.

It confirmed what Charlie had known last night: he was right and Martha was wrong. Nothing had changed. Peter seemed a bit nervy and preoccupied; his eyes kept darting to the communicating doors, but that was understandable. “Well, if I’m going to stay,” Charlie said with decision, “I’d better get another room.” He nodded toward the doors. “She’s there?”

“Yes, I took two rooms for appearances’ sake.”

“So they told me downstairs. Very discreet.” He laughed. “For appearances’ sake, we’d better take a double farther down the hall. Judy can entertain you in her suite. I don’t want her to feel that I’m breathing down her neck.”

“Okay. She’s going tomorrow. We’ll go home together. How’s the family?”

“All in order. Little Pete is furious with you. He says Daddy’s not supposed to go away in the summer. There’s nothing like a day without you to remind us that we’re living with the most beautiful guy in the world.”

“Of course you are.” He laughed into Charlie’s eyes and moved over to him and leaned on his shoulder. “I better wake the lady up.”

“Just a second. Have you thought who could tell us how to get in touch with Costa?”

“I’m going to call old Pericles. He knows all the big guns in the Interior Ministry.”

“Of course. He’ll take care of it. I’ll call him. You and Judy can concentrate on Raoul’s pictures.” He noted the alacrity with which pressure was removed from his shoulder.

Peter circled toward the locked doors. “Wonderful. I better get her moving in case Mike calls. After all, it’s her baby.”

“If Mike cooperates, you’ll have the rest of the day to yourselves. I should have Costa clear during the afternoon. Maybe I’d better call somebody and plan an evening.”

Peter returned to his side and laid a hand on the back of his neck. “Don’t be silly. We’ll all do something together. Judy would love it.”

Charlie looked up at him. Peter’s eyes didn’t meet his with quite the directness they had before. He was obviously anxious to bring this tête-à-tête to an end. Natural. Understandable. The girl was only a few feet away; she must be very much on his mind. “She doesn’t want me around. Her last night and everything. Actually, there’re some people I’d like to see. Pantelis and that crowd.” Everything depended on the degree of conviction with which Peter pursued the point. His insisting on spending the evening together would be as suspicious as his letting it drop. He felt the hand slip from his neck and Peter moved away again.

“Really? Well, let’s see how it works out. As for Judy’s last night, I’m sure she’d find it much more memorable with you along than just with me.”

Pretty good. Should he? Shouldn’t he? He rose and turned to Peter who was hovering near the closed doors again.

To Peter, Charlie seemed suddenly to fill the room. He was dressed for the island, in sandals and shorts and a shirt that was only half-buttoned, exposing the froth of blond hair on his chest. His magnificent lover—for a moment he felt their relationship to the exclusion of all else, but he still wanted to avoid any too-intimate contact. He was afraid of failing in the essential responses so long as Judy had a claim on him. She would be gone tomorrow and they would belong to each other again. Meanwhile, he marveled at the impact his presence had on him, undimmed by familiarity. He saw the devilish smile come up in Charlie’s smoky eyes and was struck again by the purpose and power in him today.