She arrived soon after nine P.M. in the Senior Common Room, and it was thick with people she had never seen before. Someone took her coat and someone else put a glass of white wine in her hand and she was left with a group of television people asking who she was and what she did at the university. Don was not in sight, but there were so many tall men around, she could not see halfway across the room. She learned from the man monopolizing the conversation in her group that there would shortly be a tour of the campus to see the webs in their various locations. Don would have a chance to find her then.
Havelock Sloane had already drunk more than was good for him. The moment Sarah had set foot in the Common Room, he had grabbed her, kissed her on both cheeks, and hauled her to the far end of the room to meet a group of NBC executives. She had no chance to see if Ed had arrived, but Don hovered nearby, clearly awaiting his chance to move in.
“Did I tell you there’s a Spider Girl poster now?” said Havelock. Have you seen it, Sarah? We should have had it on display here. Give some of these guys a coronary just to look at you in a leotard.”
“You haven’t said if you like this outfit,” said Sarah, straightening her jacket of black net with the April May spider motif in jet and sequins. It was worn over a sleeveless black crepe gown. The skirt consisted of the sheerest layers of the material cut to give glimpses of her legs as she moved.
“Sweetheart, it must be straight out of Vogue.”
It was. “Do you have a title yet for the program?” she asked.
“We do, and you’d better say you like it or I’ll take your name off the credits,” said Havelock. “It’s The Spinners. Will it do?”
“I love it.”
Over the babble of voices came one raised to make an announcement. Jerry Berlin was standing on a chair. “Friends, this isn’t a speech, just a warm welcome from the university and my department in particular. Our excuse for this celebration is the opening of the exhibition of sets from Mr. Havelock Sloane’s forthcoming NBC-TV production about the life of a spider, in which one of our graduate students, Sarah Jordan, is the narrator.”
“And the star!” put in Havelock.
“He said he wouldn’t make a speech,” said Jerry.
“So did you,” quipped Havelock.
“I’m here,” Jerry continued, “to invite you good people to join me now in a short tour of the campus to see these quite sensational sets on display. Then I’m delighted to announce that NBC has arranged a closed-circuit preview of the program, which will be screened in the main lecture theater across the lawn from here. That’s at ten-fifteen P.M. After that, we have dancing to music presented by disc jockey John Sutro. Have a great time, everyone.”
Sarah slipped away from Sloane and his friends while they applauded Jerry’s speech. She hoped she had also escaped from Don; she didn’t look around to see if he was following. She zigzagged among bosoms, backs, and elbows, searching for Ed. She spotted Bernice with a pale, tense man, presumably the present husband or the next, and veered left to avoid them. People turned to stare at her and pointed her out to others as she moved past them, but she was used to that by now. She spotted the Kellaway girl in a blue dress, head turning like a radar scanner, as people started moving to the door.
Outside, someone put a hand around her waist and said, “Come on. You can’t pass up the tour.” It was Jerry. “I need your help. There are too many here to show around together. Would you act as guide if I divide the party into two? Most of them came to see you anyway.”
In seconds she found herself leading a procession across the lawn to the campanile, where one of the orb webs was silhouetted against the evening sky. Inevitably, three or four trained tourists kept step with her and supplied a stream of questions. It meant there was no chance of finding Ed, but at least it insulated her from Don.
Meg joined Professor Berlin’s group, heading toward the gym. She hadn’t come here to see Sarah Jordan playing to the crowd. She figured that Don was also likely to avoid Sarah since he had obviously come to his senses and decided Spider Girl was really venomous.
The group had not gone far along the cloistered way to the gym when some impulse caused Meg to turn. Standing alone by the Common Room door, looking quite desolate, was Don. She gathered her skirt and ran, calling his name, but she had not gone a few steps when she realized this was what she had vowed not to do: chase him around the park. She slowed to a judicious walk. She must not be so impetuous. That was the sure way to lose him forever.
He stood still, one hand clasped to the back of his neck, the other on his hip. He was in a beautiful gray suit, the first time she had seen him so formally dressed. Maybe that explained why she had failed to spot him before now.
“Hi,” he said, sounding slightly surprised.
“Hi, Don. You look real smart.”
“So do you. I couldn’t believe it was you calling my name.”
“You mean I don’t always look smart?” she chided him, smiling.
“What I mean is I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You thought I wouldn’t come?”
“I didn’t know you had any connection with the Ecology Department.”
She smiled knowingly. If he wanted to be mysterious, so would she. Maybe he was too proud to admit he had sent the invitation. “I have my contacts. Aren’t you going around the exhibition with the others?”
“I decided to skip it.”
“You’ve seen enough spiders already, huh?”
He shrugged. “How about you? Don’t let me hold you back. You were in Jerry Berlin’s party.”
“That was before I saw you.”
“Yeah? I’m going to get another drink.”
“That’s a fine idea.”
When Sarah returned with her party, it was ten-ten, so she led them straight to the lecture theater for the screening of The Spinners. Inside, she rapidly scanned the faces of those already seated. Immediately she saw Ed between Greg Laz and Rick Saville. He must have arrived late and missed the tour. She felt a tingling rising to her skin.
Before she could go to him, someone took her arm. Havelock, swaying and breathing whiskey fumes in her face, said, “Spider Girl, I have a place reserved for you right here in the second row, next to me, only I can’t find it. Would you help me to find our places? If some creep has parked his ass on my seat, I’m going to show him the door. This is my show and he can fuck off and get out.”
“I’m sure there’s no problem,” she said, cursing her bad luck and steering him to the nearest available seats.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” said Havelock. He turned to the man on his right, a young assistant lecturer just appointed to the Ecology Department. “Isn’t it a beautiful dress? Hey, don’t look over there. You know who this lady is?”
“It’s all right, Havelock,” said Sarah in an effort to subdue him. There was no way she could get away from him without causing a scene.
Fortunately the program started on time and quieted Havelock. It opened in a way she would not have predicted — with a close-up of her face in profile. Nothing yet to suggest this was about spiders. Her memory picked up something Havelock had said weeks ago in the snack bar. We’re operating on another level of persuasion. We let them see you’re pretty. The focus on her face softened. It sharpened instead on an orb web, glittering with minute drops of moisture that flashed with the changing colors of the spectrum. The web had been invisible between the camera and Sarah’s face, and now it was diamond sharp. Then the trick was performed in reverse and the web vanished and her face filled the screen again. Slowly her head turned and the line of her hair moved across like a curtain. In the same shot the camera zoomed out to reveal her black-clothed body moving slowly and evenly across a web. The titles were superimposed and the electronic music increased in volume.