She heard her own voice say, “The orb web of the common garden spider is designed to last for a single day...” and there followed the sequence Greg Laz had filmed of a climber constructing a web inside the framework of a tower crane on the shoreline of the East River.
The audience was riveted for the entire fifty minutes. In its camerawork, direction, editing, there was no question that this was a landmark in documentary filmmaking. The shots were planned with a penetrating eye for the unexpected, yet the cutting permitted not a suggestion of self-indulgence. The commentary matched the visual content in sharpness of statement. Nothing was predictable or superfluous. Sloane had succeeded.
As the applause began and then mounted, Havelock leaned toward Sarah and said, “This is wrong. It’s not theater. I’m not going to take a goddamned bow and neither are you.” But people were leaving their seats to congratulate them.
For over ten minutes they could not move. Sarah was powerless to see whether Ed was still in the room. Havelock sat dully, allowing his hand to be shaken, until Greg Laz appeared and said a cab was waiting. Between them, they assisted Havelock outside. Jerry was standing by the car to pay his parting compliments to the great man. Havelock rested his hand on Jerry’s shoulder and said, “Professor, you’re a pain in the ass.”
A voice close to Sarah said, “Good-bye to Berlin. How about a drink?” Rick Saville gave her his version of a winning smile.
She said, “Thanks, but I promised someone else. Would you excuse me?” She was gone before he could react.
Meg had tried to persuade Don to miss the screening. “You don’t want to give Sarah Jordan the satisfaction,” she argued. “Stay out and let her see she doesn’t have any hold on you. She’s in there waiting to see if you come, like the spider she is.”
He had said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She had decided she had to make an issue of it. She hadn’t come to the party for a repeat of that hateful putdown in Jax Bar. “Don, I’d better warn you. If you go in, don’t expect to find me at your side.”
His reply had been so casual that it hit harder than any insult. “See you around, then.” And she was left at the bar. As simple as that.
She had stopped herself from running after him. She had ordered a gin and tonic. It gave her something to keep her there. The room had practically emptied as people left to see the program.
Ed was outside the door of the Common Room talking to Greg Laz when Sarah finally found him.
“Little lady. We were talking about you. It was a knockout. Congratulations.” He looked really happy for her.
“Well done,” said Laz. “I claim a little of the glory for finding you. Will you let me get you a drink?”
“Thanks. Just a tomato juice.”
“Ed? Your usual?”
“Great.” As Laz left them, Ed said to Sarah, “That’s a spectacular dress.”
From the way he said it, she knew he didn’t approve of the spider theme. “I’ll never wear it again. It’s pure kitsch. I’m going to stop dressing to please the media. Havelock didn’t dress me in sequins and crepe.”
“But you couldn’t have come in a leotard,” said Ed, “so what else could you wear? It’s okay.”
“If you think about it, the dress may be a good development,” she said. “It could mean that I’m externalizing my spider feelings so they’re just something I wear on the outside now.”
“Now who’s talking like a shrink?” he said, smiling. “Are you serious?”
If she was, she was not going to admit it. Until she was totally sure of Ed, she had to keep him in suspense about Spider Girl. The truth was that this evening was about reality. She wanted Ed for herself and he had never been featured in her spider fantasy. What she wanted from him was love. She said, “Could we get away from Greg when we’ve had the drinks? I’d like to talk to you alone.”
Before he could answer, there was a movement behind her, and Don Rigden had joined them. “Hi, folks.” He put his arm possessively around Sarah. “The elusive Spider Girl. How does anyone get to talk to you?”
She removed his hand from her waist. “Ed and I were speaking privately. Do you mind?”
“As it happens, I do. I’ve been waiting all evening to talk to you, and I think you know all about it.”
Ed said, “I’ll help Greg with the drinks,” and he walked away before Sarah could think of a way to keep him there. She knew why he had gone: he still felt it was his duty to encourage her to be friendly with Don. It was so frustrating she could have wrung Don’s neck.
She said, “You just screwed up my evening.”
“He’ll be back,” said Don. “Listen, I want you to know that I didn’t bring Meg Kellaway here. If you saw us together, it’s because she was pursuing me.”
“My heart bleeds for you.”
“What’s gotten into you, Sarah? Can’t we get on the same wavelength? Haven’t I made it clear I love you?”
“That doesn’t give you any special rights. Maybe he loves me. Have you thought of that?”
“Cunningham? He’s thirty years older than you. What can he do for you?”
“No less than you, apparently.”
His face darkened. “Christ! Is that what this is about? Sarah, I thought I’d explained. I respect you. But if you really want—”
“I just want you off my back, Don. I arranged the invitation for Meg Kellaway.”
“You?”
“Who else?”
“But why? What have I done?”
“I can’t explain now. The feelings I have for you aren’t what you imagine, Don. I was willing for you to screw me that evening in my room, but I could never love you. It’s nothing personal. Now, would you leave me alone?”
“So you can go look for Cunningham?”
“Yes.”
“You love him?”
“More than he or anyone knows. I’m sorry about Meg. Maybe if you went looking for her—”
“Maybe you should do that,” said Don. “I don’t mess around with people’s lives.” He walked away across the lawn.
She went into the Common Room to find Ed. The bar was at the far end. She had to edge through the dancers to get there. Greg Laz had only just been served, because there was a rush to get drinks while they lasted. The three of them found an empty table against the wall. She knew how it would be; for the next half hour people were stopping at the table to congratulate her on the program. Jerry; Bernice and her husband; Billie Shulman, the costume designer. For much of the time Ed was in conversation with Greg; there was nothing else he could do.
At last Sarah said, “This is ridiculous, Ed. I wanted to speak to you. Can we get out of here for some privacy?” She turned to Greg Laz. “Would you mind?”
It was cool outside and quite dark. She took Ed’s arm and draped it around her shoulder, holding his hand tightly to keep it there.
When the bar was filled again after the screening, Meg had decided to get her coat. “You’re not leaving so early?” someone asked as she handed in her check. It was Bernice. Meg didn’t want a conversation right now.
“Yes, I don’t feel so great.”