My mind came to attention.
‘Your ex-husband?’
‘I’m still married to him.’
My feeling of utter relaxation left me. I sat up and stared at her.
‘You are still married to him? I thought you were divorced.’
‘I wish I was.’ She stared at the burning ember of her cigarette. ‘God! How I wish I was!’
‘But why not?’ I was now leaning forward, my hands into fists. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘You don’t know Alex. With him, there is always a problem. He won’t give me a divorce.’
‘I don’t understand, Glenda. Did he leave you or did you leave him?’
‘I left him. I couldn’t stand him any longer. He’s not interested in women. He isn’t interested in anything except money and himself.’
‘When did you leave him?’
‘About six months ago.’
‘There must be some way you can get rid of him.’
She shrugged.
‘I can buy him off. For twenty thousand dollars, he will give me a divorce. It is as shabby and as sordid as that.’
‘You mean for twenty thousand dollars you can be free of him?’
‘Why talk about it?’ She moved impatiently and flicked ash into the ashtray. ‘I wanted you to know Larry, because I am falling in love with you.’ She put her hand on mine. ‘I thought I could go through life alone, but now I have met you, my ideas have changed. It’s odd, rather frightening, how a woman meets a man, then something happens. This must be our last meeting, Larry, and I mean that. I know you have money, and I know you love me, but I will not be bought!’ She looked directly at me. ‘You are not to say you will give Alex the money to free me. That would be un-acceptable to me! I am working and saving. In another two years, I hope to pay him off, but I won’t have you waiting all that time.’
‘I’ll lend you the money, Glenda! I won’t give it to you, I’ll lend it, and when you can, you can pay me back.’
‘No!’ She stood up. ‘It is getting late.’
I got to my feet and put my arms around her and pulled her against me.
‘Yes,’ she said, her face against mine. ‘Just this once, Larry. I long for you.’ Her body pressed against mine.
Then the front door bell rang.
The sound of the bell was like an electric shock. We jerked apart and both looked towards the front door which opened directly into the living-room.
‘Don’t answer it,’ I whispered.
‘I have to.’ She gestured towards the uncurtained window. ‘Whoever this is knows I’m here.’
‘I’ll get out of sight.’ I was in a panic, and this needs explaining. I was now regarded in Sharnville as one of their leading citizens. I was on equal terms with all the big shots at the Country club. To be caught in the apartment of a married woman photographer would cause a buzz of gossip that would tarnish my present image.
‘No!’ she said curtly.
Stiff with apprehension, my heart thumping, I watched her cross to open the front door.
The last man I wanted to see stood in the doorway: Sheriff Joe Thomson.
As I had told Glenda, I had often played golf with Thomson. We got along well enough together, but talking to him as we walked the fairways, I came to realize this man was a dedicated cop. He was around forty-five years of age; tall, lean, tough, and had been in police business for some twenty years. He had the face of a hungry eagle: small cop eyes, a hooked nose and paper-thin lips. When playing golf, he seemed relaxed, but there was no humour in him. He took golf seriously, and I had the impression he could be utterly ruthless when the chips were down.
He looked into the dimly lit room. His small eyes rested on me, and his eyebrows shot up. Then he looked at the dining table with the unmistakable evidence that Glenda and I had been eating together.
He took off his Stetson hat.
‘I apologize, Mrs. Marsh, for this late call. Seeing your light on, I thought I’d drop in and give you the data of our crime record as you wanted it so urgently.’ Then raising his hand, he saluted me. ‘Hi, citizen.’
‘Hello there, Joe,’ I said, my voice husky.
‘How kind of you, sheriff,’ Glenda said, completely at ease. ‘Do come in. Mr. Lucas is just leaving. He has been telling me interesting stories about Sharnville.’
‘Is that right?’ The cop eyes went to me, then back to her, ‘Larry certainly knows this town. You could call him a founding member. I won’t come in. My lady has dinner waiting for me.’ He offered an envelope. ‘You’ll find all the dope here, Mrs. Marsh. If you want any further information, you know where to find me.’ He waved to me. ‘See you, citizen,’ then putting on his Stetson, he walked away to the elevator.
Facing each other, we stood motionless until we heard the elevator door shut, then we looked at each other.
The spell had been broken.
Not three minutes ago, I had been aching to make love to her, and she had been aching for me, but not now.
‘I must go,’ I said, my voice unsteady. ‘He keeps a finger on the pulse of this town. We’ll have to be much more careful from now on, Glenda.’
She lifted her hands in a gesture of despair and let them drop.
‘For a moment I thought...’ She turned away. ‘Nothing ever works out for me... nothing!’
‘If Brannigan or Manson or the Mayor thought I was fooling around with a married woman, Glenda, I would be in trouble, and so would my business. I have a partner to consider. I just must be careful!’
She gave a little shiver, then turning, she looked at me.
‘Fooling around? Is that what you call it?’
‘Glenda! Of course I don’t! But they would think so.’
She forced a smile.
‘Don’t look so worried. I told you this is the last time. I promise you I won’t spoil your success story.’ The bitterness in her voice was like the flick of a whip, but I had to go. I was sure Thomson would sit in his car to make certain I did leave.
‘I’ll contact you, Glenda. We just have to be more careful.’ I moved towards her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. ‘Glenda! We must work this out! I love you, but you must understand I just can’t take chances.’
‘I do understand.’ Again the forced smile. ‘Goodbye, Larry,’ and leaving me, she went into her bedroom and shut the door.
At this moment, all I could think of was Thomson, sitting in his car, waiting to see if the light in my apartment went up. I hurried across the corridor, unlocked my front door and entered. Without turning on the lights, I went to the window and looked cautiously down on to the street. His car was still there, I turned on the lights, then taking my time, so he could see me, I slowly drew the curtains.
He started his car and drove away.
Two days later, while I was coping with the morning’s mail, Bill Dixon breezed into my office. I hadn’t seen him for the past week. He had been working on a building project some fifty miles outside Sharnville.
‘Hi, Bill,’ I said, ‘When did you blow in?’
‘Last night.’ He dumped his heavy brief-case on the floor and sat down, facing me. ‘I called you, but you were out.’
I had been down to the beach, alone, trying to figure out what to do about Glenda. I knew I was in a tricky situation. After pacing the floor of my living-room on the night we had parted and hearing her voice, saying I long for you, going over and over in my mind, I had thrown caution aside, and had crossed the corridor and rung her bell. The time then had been 01.30. She didn’t open the door. I rang again, then I heard the elevator coming up, and scared, I retreated to my apartment The following morning before leaving for the office, I again rang her bell, and again she didn’t answer. In the office, as soon as I had got rid of the mail, I telephoned her. There was no answer. By lunchtime, after trying to get her again, I was fit to be tied. I had to talk to her! But we had to talk where no prying eyes could see us. If she had been divorced, there would have been no problem, but I kept thinking that maybe her husband was having her watched, and if he cited me as the other man, this would badly dent my image in Sharnville and the business Bill and I had built up would take a financial knock. This sounds crazy in these modern days, but I knew Sharnville: leading citizens were expected to behave themselves and I was now a leading citizen.