Richardson’s mind had suddenly wandered to the private conversation he had had in the lead car with Admiral Donaldson. Strange that Donaldson and Brighting should think so much alike, and from such dissimilar backgrounds! Resolutely he shook his head to clear it, hunched forward on the bunk so that he also looked over the writing surface, and the two friends lost themselves planning the exercises.
Cindy Williams was tall and angular. There was a strength about her which entirely belied the sensitive vulnerability of her mouth and the sympathetic set of her eyes. She was fully as tall as Buck — taller when she wore heels — and her calm, thoughtful personality was the perfect complement for Buck’s more volatile, crisp makeup. At least, so Laura had always thought. Cindy was not beautiful the way Peggy Leone was beautiful, and occasionally, not today, her grooming was somewhat casual — a fault Peggy would never have been guilty of. She was a sincere person, devoid of self-consciousness. Laura had liked her from the first time she saw her.
Now Cindy and Peggy sat on opposite ends of Laura’s sofa, while Laura faced them across the low coffee table in her living room. On the table stood the remnants of afternoon tea, and alongside the tea tray was an opened bottle of dry cocktail sherry. A half-empty wineglass stood before Cindy on the low table.
Holding her own glass lightly by the stem, Laura sipped the amber liquid. She was glad she had thought of bringing it out, though it had not been in her original plan. It had provided her with an opportune interruption and might smooth the remainder of the afternoon.
A long obligatory telephone conversation with Peggy, late on the morning of the Manta’s departure, had fully discharged any further duty to her; that and the previous, much shorter call she had made, with Rich’s reluctant approval, very early the same day. There was nothing more she could do for her. She would try to avoid an open rupture, but she had not been successful with any of her previous plans for controlling the growing situation. Now she was more than ever determined somehow to escape further embroilment with this fretful, tiresome woman.
Perhaps Cindy had also had experience with Peggy’s obsession. Perhaps she sensed Laura’s reluctance to go into it with her yet again. Laura was sure of it when Cindy adroitly deflected Peggy the first time she tried to steer the conversation toward Keith. “I know both of your men have been away on long cruises from time to time,” Peggy had said, “but somehow Keith seems to draw the longest trips, and the most frequent ones, too. It’s been nearly a month, now, that he’s been gone.”
“Buck had a skipper once,” Cindy interjected, “who said at least once a day that ‘the place for a young man is at sea and away from all ba-a-a-d women!’ Buck used to imitate him for my benefit. He had all sorts of little sayings like this, and I think Buck had every one of them memorized, with gestures and facial expressions.” She had turned toward Laura as she spoke, and Laura had the distinct impression of having had the ball tossed to her.
“I know who that was,” said Laura, picking up the thread. “That was Dan Backus. He was a well-known character. He had a big family, and when he wasn’t pretending to knock them he was bragging about them. Will you have lemon or sugar, Peggy? This tea is straight from China, and is already rather sweet. You can smell the jasmine in it. I think it’s half flower petals.”
“Sugar, please,” said Peggy.
“Is one enough?”
“I like it sweet. Can I have two lumps?”
“Of course. And take a couple of these little biscuits. They’re supposed to be Chinese, too, but they’re made right here in Connecticut.”
“Thanks. I will. They look delicious. With my sweet tooth Keith says I’m lucky I don’t look like a balloon.”
“All the girls in the squadron are just green over you, Peggy,” said Cindy. “I wish I were petite like you and didn’t have to worry about gaining weight. A horse must have made faces at Mother about the time I was born.”
“If all your worries are only about gaining weight, you’re lucky.” Peggy had the characteristic petulance in her voice which told Laura she was about to revert to her favorite subject.
Quickly, Laura said, “Tell us about that school you’ve just put Ruthie in. What’s its name — the Thames Valley Junior School? From what I’ve heard, they have a very advanced curriculum for the youngsters.”
Peggy could not resist the bait, even though she suspected the subject might have been raised to keep the conversation in a different channel. For half an hour, interspersed with interruptions for more tea, she expanded upon the virtues of the newly formed school and its highly touted program for preschoolers. Finally, however, the teapot was nearly empty, its contents no longer hot. Sensing that Peggy could not be further denied, Laura had the inspiration to suggest sherry. This gave her an excuse to go to the kitchen for a few moments. When she returned she deliberately made small talk about the wine until all three had their wineglasses and had sipped from them.
The wine was of excellent quality, straight from Spain, a gift from one of Rich’s friends who had just returned from there. It might ease the strain for Peggy a little. After all, she had a right to be worried about her husband. But Laura was beyond hoping there could be any permanent adjustment in Peggy’s attitude toward the Navy. She would help her over the present situation as well as she could, but that would have to be the end.
Peggy, in the meantime, perhaps not appreciating that Laura was quietly arranging the best atmosphere possible for what was bound to be a difficult and perhaps painful discussion, chose the moment to discard all subterfuge. “I want to talk about Keith,” she said bluntly, putting down her wineglass and including Cindy and Laura in her tense two-handed gesture.
Laura caught Cindy’s quick look of sympathy. The thought projected across the space between them without need for words. Laura must know far more than Peggy. Cindy probably did, too. Peggy was worried, most understandably so after the unusual events of the past week. She had every right to Laura’s counsel. But what could Laura tell her?
Most of what Laura “knew” was actually only surmise. But she was in a far better position than Peggy to draw accurate deductions. She had indeed had more and better inputs than Peggy. How much could she tell of what she knew, or guessed? Would she thus be violating Rich’s confidence, even though he had carefully not confided in her — perhaps in anticipation of this very situation? She was his wife. She knew better than anyone else what was motivating him, what he was thinking. She was better able than anyone to divine what was going on. He knew it, had warned her that Peggy could not be trusted with a secret. But he hadn’t told her anything. Whatever she thought was strictly her own creation. Peggy had come for help. Her hysteria about Keith must be about to crest again. Laura had to try to do something.
“I can’t stand it anymore,” Peggy said. “Every time Keith leaves it’s worse, and this time it’s worse than ever. I’m always afraid for him, and I’m afraid to be left alone with Ruthie, too. I swore I’d never go through that again, and now look.”
“It’s never for so very long, Peggy,” said Laura soothingly. She realized she was using the same voice she might to a child.
“Yes, it is, too! It’s always too long! Nothing is ever settled in our lives the way it should be! Now I’m sure he’s in danger!” Peggy’s voice broke. “What am I going to do?” she wailed.
Laura swiftly skirted the coffee table, perched on the arm of the sofa and leaned to put her arm around her. Cindy, she saw, had uncrossed her legs as if to get up also. “It’s especially rough for you right now, Peggy, but it’s only a guess about Keith even being in the Arctic. Maybe he’s nowhere near where the Russian plane got shot down.”