Rich Man, Poor Man (97 page)

But the week on the sea had been so healing, the wedding so gay and optimistic, that he had consciously put it all from

his mind. He was sorry that the sight of Wesley at the wheel, brown and agile, had made them both, inevitably, think about Billy.

‘Look at him,’ Gretchen was saying, staring at Wesley. ‘Brought up by a whore. With a father who never got past the second year in high school, who hasn’t opened a book since then and who’s been beaten and hunted and knocked down and lived ever since he was sixteen with the scum of the earth. And no questions asked. When Tom decided the time was right he got his kid and took him to another country and made him learn another language and threw him in with a whole group of ruffians who can barely read and write. And he’s made him go to work at an age when Billy was still asking for two dollars on Saturday night to go to the movies. As for the amenities of family life.’ She laughed. That boy sure has his share of elegant privacy, living in the next room to a little English peasant girl who’s bis father’s mistress, with his father’s illegitimate child in her belly. And what’s the result? He’s healthy and useful and polite. And he’s so devoted to his father Tom doesn’t ever have to raise his voice to him. All he has to do is indicate what he wants the boy to do and the boy does it. Christ,’ she said, Ve’d better start rewriting all those books on child care. And one thing that boy is sure of. No draft board is going to send him to Viet Nam. His father will see to that. I’ll tell you something - if I were you, as soon as Enid is big enough to walk around this boat without falling overboard, I’d send her over here to let Tom bring her up for you. Lord, I could use a drink. Tom must have one bottle of something stashed away on this Woman’s Christian Temperance Union vessel.’

‘I imagine he has,’ Rudolph said. ‘Ill ask.’ He got up from his chair and went forward. It was getting dark and Wesley was putting the running lights on. Wesley smiled at him as he passed him. ‘I guess the excitement was too much for the old man,’ he said. ‘He hasn’t even been up to check whether I’m heading into the Alps or not.’

‘Weddings don’t happen every day,’ Rudolph said.

‘They sure don’t,’ Wesley said. ‘It’s a lucky thing for Pa they don’t. His constitution couldn’t stand it.’

Rudolph went through the saloon to the galley. Dwyer was washing lettuce in the sink and Kate, no longer dressed for celebration, was basting a roast in the oven. ‘Kate,’ Rudolph said, ‘has Tom got a bottle hidden away down here somewhere?’

Kate closed the oven door and stood up and looked

troubledly at Dwyer. T thought he promised you we’d be bone dry all the time you were on board,’ she said.

That’s all right, Kate,’ Rudolph said. ‘Jean’s in the cabin with the kid. It’s for Gretchen and me. We’re up on deck and it’s getting nippy.’

‘Bunny,’ Kate said to Dwyer, ‘go get it.’

Dwyer went up forward to his cabin and came back with a bottle of gin. Rudolph poured the gin into two glasses and put some tonic in with it

When he returned to Gretchen and gave her her glass, she made a face. ‘Gin and tonic. I hate it’

‘If Jean happens to come up on deck, we can pretend it’s just plain tonic. It disguises the smell of the gin.’

‘You hope,’ Gretchen said.

They drank. ‘It’s Evans’s favourite drink,’ Gretchen said. ‘Among our many points of difference.’

‘How’s it going?’

The same,’ she said carelessly. ‘A little worse each year, but the same. I suppose I ought to quit him, but he needs me. He doesn’t want me so damned much, but he needs me. Maybe needing is better than wanting at my age.’

Jean came on deck, in tight, low-waisted pink denim pants and a pale-blue cashmere sweater. She glanced at the glasses in their hands but didn’t say anything.

‘How’s Enid?’ Rudolph asked.

‘Sleeping the sleep of the just. She asked if Kate and Uncle Thomas got to keep the rings they gave each other.’ She shivered. ‘I’m cold,’ she said and snuggled up against Rudolph’s shoulder. He kissed her cheek.

‘Fee-fie-fo-fum,’ Jean said. ‘I smell the blood of an Englishman.’

The tonic hadn’t fooled her. Not for an instant

‘One drop,’ she said.

Rudolph hesitated. If he had been alone, he would have held on to his glass. But Gretchen was there, watching them. He couldn’t humiliate his wife in front of his sister. He gave Jean the glass. She took a tiny sip, then handed the glass back to him.

Dwyer came out on deck and began to set the table for dinner, putting out little weighted brass hurricane lamps with candles in them. The table was always tastefully set on board, with the candles at night and straw place mats and a little bowl of flowers and a wooden salad bowl. Somehow, Rudolph thought, watching Dwyer work, neat in his pressed chino pants

and blue sweater, somehow among the three of them they had developed a sense of style. The candles winked in their glasses, like captured fireflies, making small, warm pools of light in the centre of the big scrubbed table.

Suddenly, there was a dull, thudding noise against the hull and a chattering under the stern. The boat throbbed unevenly and there was, a clanking below decks before Wesley could cut the engines. Dwyer ran to the after rail and peered at the wake, pale in the dark sea.

‘Damn it, he said, pointing, ‘we hit a log. See it7’

Rudolph could see a dim shadow floating behind him, just a bare two or three inches protruding from the water. Thomas came running out, barefooted and bare chested, but clutching a sweater. Kate was on his heels.

‘We hit a log,’ Dwyer said to him. ‘One or maybe both of the screws.’

‘Are we going to sink?’ Jean asked. She sounded frightened. ‘Should I get Enid?’

‘Leave her alone,’ Thomas said calmly. “We’re not going to sink.’ He pulled on his sweater and went into the pilot house and took the wheel. The ship had lost way and was swinging a little in the light wind, bobbing against the swell. Thomas started the port engine. It ran normally and the propeller turned smoothly. But when he started the starboard engine there was a metallic clanking below and the Clothilde throbbed irregularly. Thomas cut the starboard engine and they moved forward slowly. ‘It’s the starboard propeller. And maybe the shaft, too,’ he said.

Wesley, was near tears. ‘Pa,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry. I just didn’t see it.’

Thomas patted the boy’s shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault, Wes,’ he said. ‘Really not. Look into the engine room and see if we’re taking any water in the bilge.’ He cut the port engine and in a moment they were drifting again. ‘A wedding present from the Med,’ he said, but without bitterness. He filled a pipe and lighted it and put his arm around his wife and waited for Wesley to come up on deck.

‘Dry,’ Wesley said.

‘She’s solid,’ Thomas said. The old Clothilde.’ Then he noticed the glasses in Rudolph’s and Gretchen’s hands. ‘We continuing the celebration?’ he asked.

‘Just one drink,’ Rudolph said.

Thomas nodded. ‘Wesley,’ he said, ‘take the wheel. We’re going back to Antibes. On the port engine. Keep the revs low

and watch the oil and water gauges. If the pressure drops or it begins to heat up, cut it right away.’

Rudolph could sense that Thomas would have preferred to take the wheel himself, but he wanted to make sure that Wesley didn’t feel guilty about the accident.

‘Well, folks,’ Thomas said as Wesley started the engine and slowly swung the Clothilde’s bow around, ‘I’m afraid there goes Portofino.’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ Rudolph said. ‘Worry about the boat.’ There’s nothing we can do tonight,’ Thomas said. Tomorrow morning, we’ll put on the masks and go down and take a look. If it’s what I think it is, it’ll mean waiting for a new screw and maybe a new shaft and putting her up on land to fit them. I could go on to Villefranche, but I get a better deal from the yard in Antibes.’ That’s all right,’ Jean said. ‘We all love Antibes.’ ‘You’re a nice girl,’ Thomas said to Jean. ‘Now, why don’t we all sit down and have our dinner?’

They could only do four knots on the one engine and Antibes harbour was silent and dark as they entered it. No horns greeted their arrival and no flowers were strewn in their wake.

There was a small, insistent tapping sound in his dream and as he swam up from sleep Thomas thought, Pappy is at the door. He opened his eyes, saw that he was in his bunk with Kate sleeping beside him. He had rigged up another section to the lower bunk so that he and Kate could sleep comfortably together. The new section could be folded back during the day, to give them room to walk around the small cabin.

The tapping continued. ‘Who’s there?’ he whispered. He didn’t want to wake Kate.

‘It’s me,’ came the answering whisper. ‘Pinky Kimball.’

‘In a minute,’ Thomas said. He didn’t turn on the light, but dressed in the dark. Kate slept deeply, worn out by the day’s activities.

Barefoot, in sweater and pants, Thomas cautiously opened the cabin door and went out into the gangway, where Pinky was waiting for him. There was a huge smell of drink coming from Pinky, but it was too dark in the gangway for Thomas to tell just how drunk he was. He led the way up to the pilot

house, past the cabin where Dwyer and Wesley slept. He looked at his watch. Two-fifteen on the phosphorescent dial. Pinky stumbled a little going up the ladder. ‘What the hell is it, Pinky?’ Thomas asked irritably. ‘I just came from Cannes,’ Pinky said thickly. ‘So what? Do you always wake up people when you come from Cannes?’

‘You got to listen to me, mate,’ Pinky said. T saw your sister^ in-law in Cannes.’ ‘You’re drunk, Pinky,’ Thomas said disgustedly. ‘Go to sleep.’ ‘In pink pants. Listen, why would I say a thing like that if I didn’t glom her? I saw her all day, didn’t I? I’m not that drunk. I can recognise a woman I see all day, can’t I? I was surprised and went up to her and I said I thought you were on the way to Portofino and she said I am not on my way to Portofino, we had an accident and we’re bloody well in Antibes harbour.’

‘She didn’t say bloody well,’ Thomas said, not wishing to believe that Jean was anyplace else but on the Clothilde, asleep. ‘A turn of phrase,’ Pinky said. ‘But I saw her.’ ‘Where in Cannes?’ He had to remember to keep his voice down, so as not to awaken the others.

‘In a strip-tease joint. La Porte Rose. It’s on the rue Bivouac Napoleon. At the bar with a big Yugoslav or something in a gabardine suit. I’ve seen him around. He’s a pimp. He’s done time.’ ‘Oh, Christ. Was she drunk?’

‘Lopping,’ Pinky said. ‘I offered to take her back to Antibes with me but she said “This gentleman here will drive me home when we are ready”.

‘Wait here,’ Thomas said. He went down into the saloon and along the aft gangway, passing the cabins where Gretchen and Enid slept. There was no sound from either cabin. He opened the door to the master cabin in the stern. There was a light on in the gangway all night, in case Enid wanted to ‘ go to the bathroom. When Thomas opened the main cabin door, just enough to look in, he saw Rudolph sleeping in pyjamas, in the big bed. Alone.

Thomas closed the door gently and went back up to Pinky. ‘You saw her,’ he said. ‘What’re you going to do?’ Pinky asked. ‘Go and get her,’ Thomas said.

‘Do you want me to come with you? It’s a rough crowd.’ Thomas shook his head. Pinky sober was no help. Drunk he’d be worthless. Thanks. You go to sleep. Ill see you in the

morning.’ Pinky started to remonstrate, but Thomas said, ‘Go ahead, go ahead” and pushed him gently towards the gangplank. He watched Pinky walk unsteadily along the quay, going in and out of shadow, towards where the Vega was berthed. He felt his pockets. He had some loose change in his wallet. Then he went down to his own cabin, stepping carefully past the cabin that Dwyer and Wesley shared. He woke up Kate with a slight tap on her shoulder.

‘Keep it low,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to wake up the whole ship.’ Then he told her Pinky”s news. ‘I’ve got to go get her,’ he said.

‘Alone?’

The fewer the better,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring her back and put her in her husband’s bed and tomorrow he can say his wife has a headache and is staying in bed for a day or so and nobody’ll catch on to anything. I don’t want Wesley or Bunny to see the lady drunk.’ He also didn’t want Wesley or Dwyer to be around if there was going to be any trouble.

‘I’ll go with you,’ Kate said. She started to get up. He pushed her down.

T don’t want her to know that you’ve seen her drunk with a pimp either. We’ve got to live the rest of our lives as friends.’

‘You’ll be careful, won’t you?’

‘Of course, I’ll be careful,’ he said. He kissed her. ‘Sleep well, darling.’

Any other woman would have made a fuss, he thought as he went up on deck. Not Kate. He put on the espadrilles he always left at the gangplank and went down to the quay. He was lucky. Just as he was going through the archway a taxi drove up and let off a couple in evening clothes. He got into the taxi and said, ‘La rue Bivouac Napoleon. Cannes.’

She wasn’t at the bar when he went into La Porte Rose. And there was no Yugoslav in a gabardine suit, either. There were two or three men standing at the bar, watching the show, and a couple of hookers. There were some single men at tables and three men whose looks he didn’t like, sitting with one of the performers at a table near the entrance. Two elderly American couples at at a table on the edge of the dance floor. An act was just beginning. The band was playing loudly and a redheaded girl in an evening dress was swaying around the floor in the spotlight, slowly taking off a long glove that went up nearly to her shoulder. Thomas ordered a Scotch and soda. When the barman

brought the drink and placed it in front of him, he said in English, Tm looking for an American lady who was in here a while ago. Brown hair. Wearing pink pants. With a monsieur in a gabardine suit.’

‘Have not zee no American lady,’ the barman said.

Thomas put a hundred franc note on the bar.

‘Maybe I begin to remembair,’ the barman said.

Thomas put down another hundred franc note. The barman looked around him quickly. The two notes disappeared. He took up a glass and began to polish it assiduously. He spoke without looking at Thomas. With all the noise from the band there was no danger of his being overheard.