“No. No, of course not,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t know him, really. He’s a — very sweet boy. He has many fine qualities.”
“I’m sure he has.”
“And he’s extremely talented; everyone says that. Harrison was so strict with him, I tried to make it up to Dougie on the side, I encouraged him to express himself.” She put the half-empty glass on the mantel and leaned closer to the fire, her bony little hands stretched out until they were almost touching the flames. “Harrison was a very cruel man sometimes. Does that surprise you?”
“Not much. Most of us are cruel on occasion.”
“Not the way Harrison was. He used to... But it doesn’t matter now. I can tell I’m depressing you.” She turned from the fire, making an obvious effort to control her emotions. “You’ve listened to my troubles. Now you may tell me yours, if you like.”
“They aren’t very interesting.”
“All troubles are interesting.” Perhaps that’s why we have them, to keep ourselves from being bored to death. Go on, tell me yours.”
“Sorry, there isn’t time, Mrs. Clarvoe.”
“Don’t leave yet. You haven’t seen Dougie. He’s upstairs getting dressed. Tomorrow’s his birthday. We’re having a little party at the Brown Derby.”
While the maid waits for her salary, Blackshear thought grimly. “Wish Douglas a happy birthday for me.”
“I will.”
“There’s just one more thing, Mrs. Clarvoe. Do you know a young woman named Evelyn Merrick?”
She looked surprised. “Well, of course.”
“Of course?”
“She’s Dougie’s wife. She was, I mean. The marriage was annulled and she took back her maiden name.”
“She lives here in town?”
“In Westwood. With her mother.”
“I see.” It was as simple as that. There”d been no need to ask Miss Hudson or Terola or Harley Moore. Evelyn Merrick wasn’t a waif or a stranger. She had been Douglas Clarvoe’s wife, Helen Clarvoe’s sister-in-law. “Did Helen know the girl?”
“Know her? Why, that’s how Douglas first met her. Evie and Helen went to a private school together years ago in Hope Ranch and Helen used to bring Evie home for weekends. After graduation they went to different colleges and lost touch, but Evie used to come over here once in a while, mostly to see Douglas. Douglas had always adored her, she was such a lively, affectionate girl. She used to tease the life out of him, but he loved it. There was never any malice in her teasing.”
There is now, Blackshear thought. “Tell me about the wedding.”
“Well, it was a very quiet one, being so soon after Harrison’s death. Just the family and a few friends.”
“Was Helen there?”
“Helen,” she said stiffly, “had already moved out. She was invited, of course, and she sent a lovely gift.”
“But she didn’t come?”
“No. She was ill.”
“How ill?”
“Really, Mr. Blackshear, I don’t know how ill. Nor did I care. I didn’t want her to come anyway. She might have ruined the wedding with that gloomy face of hers.”
Blackshear smiled at the irony: Helen might have ruined the wedding, but Verna had ruined the marriage.
“Besides,” Verna said, “she and Evie weren’t best friends any more, they hardly ever saw each other. They had nothing much in common, even when they were at school together. Evie was quite a bit younger, and the very opposite in temperament, full of fun and laughter.”
“You saw her this afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Is she still full of fun and laughter?”
“Not so much anymore. The break-up of the marriage was hard on her. Hard on all of us. I wanted grandchildren.”
The second drink had brought color to her face and made her eyes look like blue glass beads in a doll’s head.
“I wanted grandchildren. I have nothing to show for my life. Nothing.”
“You have Helen. I think perhaps the two of you have reached the stage where you need each other.”
“We won’t discuss that again.”
“Very well.”
“I don’t want any advice. I hate advice. I don’t need it.”
“What do you need, then?”
“Money. Just money.”
“Money hasn’t helped you much in the past. And it’s not helping Helen much now. She’s in the position of being able to indulge her neurosis instead of trying to do something about it.”
“Why tell me?”
“I think you’re the logical person to tell, since you’re her mother.”
“I don’t feel like her mother. I never did, even when she was a baby. The ugliest baby you ever saw, I couldn’t believe it belonged to me. I felt cheated.”
“You’ll always be cheated, Mrs. Clarvoe, if you put your value on the wrong things.”
She raised her clenched right fist and took a step forward as if she meant to attack him.
Blackshear rose to meet her. “You asked me to be impolite.”
“I’m asking you now to get out and leave me alone.”
“All right. I’ll go. Sorry if I’ve disturbed you.”
Her hands dropped suddenly and she turned away with a sigh. “I’m the one who should apologize. I’ve had — it’s been a bad day.”
“Good night, Mrs. Clarvoe.”
“Good night. And when you see Helen, tell her — tell her hello for me.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Good night.”
As soon as he had gone, she went upstairs to Douglas’ room, leaning heavily on the banister for support. I must be firm, she thought. We must reach some decision.
The door of his bedroom was open.
“Dougie, there are some things we should... Dougie?”
He had changed his clothes as she had ordered him to — the terry-cloth robe and the beaded moccasins he’d been wearing were on the floor beside the bed — but once again he’d made her regret the order. Instead of coming down to the den to meet Blackshear, he had left the house.
She said, “Dougie,” again, but without hope. She knew he was gone, she could even visualize the scene: Douglas coming downstairs, pausing at the den door, listening, hearing his name: Do you think there’s something the matter with Douglas, Mr. Blackshear?
She turned and moved stiffly towards the staircase. As she walked through the empty house she had a feeling that it would always be empty from now on, that the day had held a finality for Douglas as well as for herself, and he had fled the knowledge of it.
Pressing her fists against her mouth, she thought, I mustn’t get silly and hysterical. Of course Dougie will be back. He’s gone out to get a pack of cigarettes. Or for a walk. It’s a lovely evening. He likes to walk at night and name the stars.
The telephone in the hall began to ring. She was so sure that it was Douglas calling that she spoke his name as soon as she picked up the receiver.
“Douglas. Where are...”
“Is that the Clarvoe residence?”
The voice was so muffled and low that Verna thought it was Douglas playing one of his tricks, talking through a handkerchief to disguise his identity. “Where on earth did you disappear to? Mr. Blackshear was...”
“This isn’t Douglas, Mrs. Clarvoe. It’s me, Evie.”
“Evie. What a coincidence. I was just talking about you.”
“To whom?”
“A friend of mine, Mr. Blackshear.”
“Did you say nice things?”
“Of course I did.” She hesitated. “I said hello to Douglas for you. He was very pleased.”
“Was he?”
“I... I know he’d love to see you.”
“Would he?”
“He said, why don’t you come over some time; we’ll talk about old times.”