‘Put it on, you whore,’ he said.
Utterly demoralized, Linda put on the wrap with trembling hands. This awful man was certain to tell Frank. Then what would Frank do? Kick her out? Would she have to go back to being a show-girl again? Lose all this luxury, her freedom, her car and her beautiful clothes? She felt so bad that when she had put on the wrap she slumped back on to the bed.
Max leaned against the wall. He had tilted his hat over his nose, and now he lit a cigarette, looking at her from over the flame of the match.
‘So you couldn’t take his money without cheating,’ he said contemptuously. ‘I warned him, but he’s a sucker for a bitch like you. Well, from now on it’s going to be different. From now on you’re going to earn your money.’
Linda flinched.
‘Don’t tell him,’ she implored, holding her wrap close to her. ‘It won’t ever happen again. I promise. Frank loves me. Why spoil his life?’
Max blew a long stream of tobacco smoke down his pinched nostrils.
‘You’re damn right it won’t happen again,’ he said. ‘And I’m not spoiling his life and I’m not telling him.’
Linda stared at him, began to control her trembling limbs.
‘I don’t trust you,’ she said. ‘I know meanness when I see it. You couldn’t keep quiet—’
‘Shut up!’ he returned. ‘He’s come home now for good. And you’re going to stay with him, do what he tells you, sleep with him when he feels that way, take him around, shave him, keep his clothes in order, read to him. You’re going to be always at his side to help him. You’re going to be his eyes.’
Linda thought he had gone crazy.
‘What do you mean — be his eyes? He has his own eyes, hasn’t he?’
Max smiled thinly. He crossed over to her, caught a handful of her hair in his fingers, dragged her head back. She made no effort to break his hold, but stared back at him, her eyes dark with terror.
‘And if you try any tricks I’ll fix you,’ he said. ‘I warn once, never twice. If you run away, if you’re unfaithful to him, I’ll find you wherever you are and I’ll burn his name across your face with acid.’ He released her and raising his hand he hit her heavily across her mouth, knocking her flat across the bed. ‘What he can see in a tramp like you I don’t know, but he was always a sucker. Well, he wants you, and he’s going to have you: there’s nothing else left for him.’
As he went to the door Linda sat up, her hand on her lips. He opened the door, went out on to the landing. She heard him call, ‘Frank; she’s waiting for you.’
She remained sitting on the bed, unable to move, staring at the open door, listening to a slow shuffling step on the stairs with growing horror.
Then Frank came in, his sightless eyes hidden behind black-lensed glasses, a stick in his hand guided him to the bed.
He looked sightlessly over the top of Linda’s head. There were pent-up desire, self-pity, urgent animal longing in his fat white face.
‘Hello, Linda,’ he said, his hand groping towards her. ‘I’ve come home.’
The next two weeks were nightmare weeks for Linda. Never, as long as she lived, would she forget them. She had no leisure from Frank’s incessant demands. When he wasn’t making mauling, hateful love to her, he was wanting to be read to, to be taken for rides in the car, to be waited on hand and foot. His blindness soured his already vicious temper and he vented his spleen on her. Now he could no longer see her beauty she quickly lost her influence over him. He refused to let her buy clothes (and in the past Linda never let a day pass without replenishing her already bursting wardrobe). ‘Wear what you’ve got,’ he would snarl. ‘I can’t see you in new things, so what the hell?’ Worse still, he controlled the money now, and became miserly, cutting down expenses, keeping Linda without a nickel.
She was driven to distraction, for she feared to leave him, knowing that Max was capable of carrying out his threat. She had no privacy and could not move a step without hearing the tap of his stick and the plaintive whine of his voice asking where she was.
She longed to see Eddie again, and poured out an account of her sufferings to him in long and hysterical letters.
Eddie was also suffering. He had not realized how crazy he was about Linda until their separation. Now that he dared not go near the villa he became moody, slept badly and thought continually of Linda’s charms. His racket and consequently his income suffered.
One afternoon, some sixteen days after Max’s dramatic appearance in Linda’s bedroom, Eddie was sitting in a drug store idling an hour away before he called on one of his elderly clients when he noticed a girl come in and sit on a stool not far from him.
It was a slack hour of the day, and Eddie and the girl were the only two people in the place. More from habit than interest, Eddie looked the girl over. She was shabbily but neatly dressed. Under a dowdy little hat a mass of raven black hair struggled for freedom. She wore horn spectacles, and in spite of her lack of make-up she was attractive. But Eddie had seen so many beautiful and glamorous women that such a poorly dressed, unsophisticated object was of no interest to him. He observed, however, that in spite of the shabby clothes, the girl had an exceptionally good figure, and her long, slender legs held his attention for a moment before he resumed reading his newspaper.
He heard the girl speaking to the soda-jerker, a little bald-headed guy whose name was Andrews and with whom Eddie was friendly.
‘I’m looking for part-time work,’ the girl said in a quiet, well-modulated voice. ‘You wouldn’t know anyone who wants a companion for the evening or someone to mind the children, would you?’
Andrews, who liked to help people when he could, swabbed down the counter, wrinkled his forehead and considered the question.
‘Can’t say I do,’ lie said at last. ‘Most folks around this little town don’t have children and don’t need companions. It’s a kind of gay little town, if you know what I mean.’
‘I’ve got a job,’ the girl explained as she stirred her coffee, ‘but it doesn’t pay too well and I thought something in the evening might help out.’
‘Yeah, I see how it is,’ Andrews said, scratched his head. ‘Well, I don’t know of anyone, but if I hear of something I’ll pass it on.’
‘Oh, will you?’ the girl said, brightening. ‘I should be very grateful. Mary Prentiss is the name. May I write it down? I live on East Street.’
Andrews found her a pencil and paper.
‘If there’s a blind person who needs a companion,’ the girl went on as she was writing, ‘I have had training with blind people—’
‘Sure, but there ain’t many blind people in Santo Rio. In fact, I don’t know any at all,’ Andrews said. ‘But I’ll keep my eyes open for you.’
Eddie watched her go, tipped his hat over his handsome nose and considered the idea that had suddenly entered his head. With a feeling of growing excitement he decided the idea was inspired.
‘Let’s have that dame’s name and address, Andy,’ he said, sliding off his stool. ‘I know a blind guy who’s aching for a little female society.’
At eleven o’clock the same evening Eddie found Linda waiting for him at the secluded and prearranged rendezvous, a quarter of a mile or so from the villa.
Their first wild, passionate greeting over, Eddie drew her down beside him on the sand and, holding her close, began to talk.
‘Now, listen, honey, we haven’t much time. That dope I sent you won’t keep him quiet for long, but long enough for me to tell you I’ve got an idea.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to get an idea,’ Linda said, clasping his hands. ‘If I hadn’t been certain you’d have thought of something I think I would have killed myself.’