of her little nose, while her hair fuzzed out at unexpected angles.
You're beautiful, she cried, coming to kiss him and getting soap down
her sweater as she hugged him.
Drink or coffee? she asked, and David winced at the thought of alcohol.
Coffee will be great, doll She brought it to him in a mug, then perched
on the toilet seat.
Tell all! she commanded and while they chatted the pretty dark-haired
girl wandered in, still in her pyjamas and bug-eyed from sleep.
This is my coz, David. Isn't he beautiful? Mitzi introduced them.
And this is Liz. The girl sat on the dirty linen basket in the corner
and fixed David with such an awed and penetrating gaze that Mitzi warned
her, Cool it, darling. Even from here I can hear your ovaries bouncing
around like ping-pong balls. But she was such a silent, ethereal little
thing that they soon forgot her and talked as if they were alone. It
was Mitzi who said suddenly, without preliminaries, Papa is waiting for
you, licking his lips like an ivyleague ogre. I ate with them Saturday
night, he must have brought your name up one zillion times. It's going
to be strange to have you sitting up there on Top Floor, in a charcoal
suit, being bright at Monday morning conference - David stood up
suddenly in the bath, cascading suds and steaming water, and began
soaping his crotch vigorously . They watched him with interest, the
dark-haired girl's eyes widening until they seemed to fill her face.
David sat down again, slopping water over the edge.
I'm not going! he said, and there was a long heavy silence.
What you mean, you're not going? Mitzi asked timorously.
Just that, said David. I'm not going to Morgan Group. 'But you have
toVWhy? asked David.
Well, I mean it's decided, you promised Daddy that when you finished
with the airforce. No, David said, I made no promise. He just took it.
When you said a moment ago, being bright at Monday morning conference, I
knew I couldn't do it. I guess I've known all along. What you going to
do, then? Mitzi had recovered from the first shock, and her plump
cheeks were tinged pink with excitement.
I don't know. I just know I am not going to be a caretaker for other
men's achievements. Morgan Group isn't me. It's something that Gramps,
and Dad and Uncle Paul made. It's too big and cold - Mitzi was flushed,
bright-eyed, nodding her agreement, enchanted by this prospect of
rebellion and open defiance.
David was warming to it also. I'll find my own road to go. There's
more to it. There has to be something more than this. Yes, Mitzi
nodded so that she almost shook her spectacles from her nose. You're
not like them. You would shrivel and die up there on executive suite.
I've got to find it, Mitzi. It's got to be out there somewhere. David
came out of the bath, his body glowing dull red-brown from the scalding
water and steam rising from him in light tendrils. He pulled on a Terry
robe as he talked and the two girls followed him through to the bedroom
and sat side by side on the edge of the bed, eagerly nodding their
encouragement as David Morgan made his formal declaration of
independence. Mitzi spoiled it, however.
What are you going to tell Daddy? she asked. The question halted
David's flow of rhetoric, and he scratched the hair on his chest as he
considered it. The girls waited attentively.
He's not going to let you get away again, Mitzi warned. Not without a
stand-up, knock-down, drag-emout fight. In this moment of crisis
David's courage deserted him. I've told him once, I don't have to tell
him again. 'You just going to cut and run? Mitzi asked.
I'm not running, David replied with frosty dignity as he picked up the
pigskin folder which held his thick sheaf of credit cards from the
bedside table. I am merely reserving the right to determine my own
future. He crossed to the telephone and began dialling. Who are you
calling? 'The airline. 'Where are you heading? 'The same place as
their first flight out. I'll cover for you, declared Mitzi loyally,
you're doing the right thing, warrior. You bet I am, David agreed. My
way and screw the rest of them.
Do you have time for that? Mitzi giggled, and the dark-haired girl
spoke for the first time in a husky intense voice without once taking
her eyes off David. I don't know about the rest of them, but may I be
first, please? With the telephone receiver to his ear David glanced at
her, and realized with only mild surprise that she was in deadly
earnest.
David came out into the impersonal concrete and glass arrivals hall of
Schipol Airport, and he paused to gloat on his escape and to revel at
this sense of anonymity in the uncaring crowd. There was a touch at his
elbow, and he turned to find a tall, smiling Dutchman quizzing him
through rimless spectacles.
Mr. David Morgan, I think? and David gaped at him.
I am Frederick van Gent of Holland and Indonesian Stevedoring. We have
the honour to act on behalf of Morgan Shipping Lines in Holland. It is
a great pleasure to make your acquaintance. God, no! David whispered
wearily.
Please? No. I'm sorry. It's nice to meet you. David shook the hand
with resignation.
I have two urgent telex messages for you, Mr. Morgan. Van Gent produced
them with a flourish. I I have driven out from Amsterdam especially to
deliver same. The first was from Mitzi who had sworn to cover for him.
Abject apologies your whereabouts extracted with rack and thumbscrew
stop be brave as a lion stop be -ferocious as an eagle Love Mitzi.
David said, Traitorous bitch! and opened the second envelope.
Your doubts understood, your action condoned stop confident your good
sense will lead you eventually on to path of duty stop your place here
always open affectionately Paul Morgan.
David said, Crafty old bastard, and stuffed both messages into his
pocket.
Is there a reply? Van Gent asked.
Thank you, no. It was good of you to take this trouble.
No trouble, Mr. Morgan Can I help you in any way?
Is there anything you require?
Nothing, but thanks again. They shook hands and Van Gent bowed and left
him. David went to the Avis counter and the girl smiled brightly at
him.
Good evening, sir.
David slipped his Avis card across the desk. I want something with a
little jump to it, please.
Let me see, we have a Mustang Mach 1? 1 She was pure blonde with a
cream and pink unlined face.
That will do admirably, David assured her, and as she began filling the
form in, she asked, Your first visit to Amsterdam, sir?
They tell me it's the city with the most action in Europe, is that
right?
If you know where to go, she murmured.
You should show me? David asked and she looked up at him with
calculating eyes behind a neutral expression, made a decision and
resumed her writings.
Please sign here, sir. Your account will be charged, then she dropped
her voice. If you have any queries on this contract, you can contact me
at this number, after hours. My name is Gilda.
Gilda shared a walk-up over the outer canal with three other girls who
showed no surprise, and made no objection when David carried his single
Samsonite case up the steep staircase. However, the action that Gilda
provided was in a series of discotheques and coffee bars where lost
little people gathered to talk revolution and guru babble. In two days
David discovered that pot tasted terrible and made him nauseous, and