Eve

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DURING the next four days I became increasingly aware that I made a bad mistake in coming to live at Three Point. By doing this I had cut myself off from all social contact and now, without any form of amusement, I was rapidly becoming bored with this self-imposed isolation. Although I had hoped to write a novel in the quiet of these surroundings when the time came to begin I found that inspiration was lacking.

I had managed, with a considerable effort, to rewrite Carol’s second treatment of the play. As she had done most of the necessary work, my own particular job amounted merely to copying what she had written. Although I had no actual creative work to do, it still required an effort of will to sit at my typewriter. Several times while I worked, I was tempted to telephone for a stenographer to come out and finish it. But, in the end, I managed to complete the treatment and it was now in Sam Bernstien’s hands. I was waiting with mixed feelings to hear what Gold was going to say. It was my intention, if he accepted it, to insist that someone — anyone but me — should do the shooting script. I knew that I was incapable of doing it and besides, I dare not take the risk of writing the additional dialogue and script required. I had no hope of imitating John Coulson’s brilliant phrases and, if I did make the attempt, it would at once become obvious to a man of Gold’s shrewdness that I was not the author of the original play.

My financial position was beginning to worry me. My capital was dwindling, my royalties were becoming depressingly smaller each week and my debts were increasing. I gave Carol no hint of the true position since I knew that she would insist on paying her share. She was, of course, earning big money at the Studio and, although she used a certain amount of this for pocket money and for her wardrobe, the bulk was being carefully invested in real estate. Whatever else were

“I am.” Her voice sounded a little curt.

Tor how long?”

“I don’t know. I do wish you wouldn’t ask so many questions. I don’t know how long he’ll be staying.”

“You expect him today?”

“Hm-hm. I had a telegram last night.”

“Don’t forget I want to meet him.”

There was a moment’s pause. “I won’t.”

“Do we meet this time?”

“No — not this time.”

“When then?”

“Some time. I’ll see.”

“So you’re going to forget all your boy friends? What will they do without you?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. They’ll come back when I’m ready.”

Her indifference tortured me. “Well, have a good time. I’ll call in a few days.”

“All right. Good-bye,” and she hung up.

I slammed down the receiver and walked onto the terrace. Every time we met, every time I telephoned her, it became more obvious that I meant nothing to her. Yet I could not give her up. I knew I would never mean anything to her, but still I had to pursue her.

I couldn’t stay in the cabin all day with the thought that she was meeting her husband on my mind. It would drive me crazy.

I decided I would drive over to the Studio and see if Bernstein had any news for me.

After my bath, I dressed and got the Chrysler from the garage, then I drove leisurely down the mountain road through San Bernardino to Hollywood. I was in a black mood of depression, hating the thought of the long afternoon and evening that lay before me.

I reached the Studio by noon and as I drew up outside the main office buildings, Carol came hurrying down the steps.

“Why, hello, darling,” she said, jumping on the running board and kissing me. “I’ve been trying to get you.”

I looked at her sharply. “Anything wrong?”

“It’s such a bore, but we’re flying to Death Valley and I won’t be back until tomorrow morning. Jerry insists that we get the right desert atmosphere and he, Frank and I are leaving immediately.”

“You mean you won’t be coming home tonight?” I asked blankly.

“I can’t, my sweet. Oh, and Russell won’t be there to look after you. What are we going to do?”

I tried to conceal my dismay, but I did not succeed too well. “I can look after myself. Don’t worry about me, besides I have a lot of work to do.”

“I hate your being all alone,” she said, worried. “Why don’t you stay in town or better still, come with us?”

I thought of Imgram and I shook my head. “I’ll go back to Three Point,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’ll get along fine.”

“Oh, do come with us,” she pleaded. “It’ll be fun.”

“Now don’t fuss,” I said a little irritably. “I tell you I’ll be all right. Have a good trip. I’ll see you tomorrow night then?”

“I wish I hadn’t to go. It does worry me to think of you being all alone. You’re sure you won’t stay in town?”

“I’m not a child, Carol,” I said, a little curtly. “I can look after myself. I must run. I want to talk to Bernstien.” I had seen Highams and Imgram coming down the long avenue to the office buildings and I was anxious not to meet them. “Have a good time.” I kissed her. “Good-bye and bless you.” I hurried into the building, leaving her looking after me with a worried expression in her eyes.

I walked down the long corridor to Sam Bernstien’s office, feeling depressed. If only Eve had been free. I would have persuaded her to take the day off and we would have had fun together. I could have spent the night with her. But now, I was faced with a hopelessly blank twenty-four hours unless Bernstein had something for me.

“Go right ahead,” his secretary told me as soon as I gave her my name. “Mr. Bernstien has been trying to get you.”

I brightened. This sounded promising.

“Hello there,” I said as I entered the office.

Bernstien jumped to his feet. “I’ve been calling you. It’s all right. R.G. agrees. What do you know? A contract for one hundred thousand dollars. I congratulate you.”

I stared at him speechless.

“I thought that would surprise you,” he said grinning. “Didn’t I tell you I would get round Gold? I know him. I know all his little ways.” He opened a drawer and took out a contract form. “Everything has been agreed to. I have had my way in everything. See for yourself.”

With unsteady hands I picked up the contract and began to read. Then quite suddenly my heart gave a lurch and I went cold.

“But it says here I’m to do the shooting script,” I stammered.

“Of course,” Bernstien beamed. “Carol suggested the idea herself and when I mentioned it to R.G. he made that the condition of the contract. He said that the picture would be no use unless it had your brilliant dialogue. Those were his very words.”

I sat down limply. Gold knew then. No wonder he was offering a hundred thousand dollars. He knew that I would not dare attempt to produce any dialogue.

“But aren’t you pleased?” Bernstien demanded, staring at me with puzzled eyes. “Is anything wrong? Don’t you feel well?”

“I’m all right,” I said dully. “This — this has been a bit of a shock to me.”

Bernstien brightened at once. “Of course. You did not expect so much. But it’s a grand play and it will make a fine picture. Have a drink?”

I was glad to gulp down the stiff whisky he gave me. All the time he was fussing around mixing the drink, I was trying to think of a way out. There was no way out. Gold had got me where he wanted me.

The next couple of hours meant nothing to me. I drove around aimlessly, my mind stunned by the trick Gold had devised, wondering how I was going to explain to Carol that I could not go through with it.

I had to make money some way. I just could not go on without money. Then I remembered Lucky Strike.

When I first came to Hollywood I had been a keen gambler and I used to go out to the gambling ships which were anchored off the California beaches. There were more than a dozen of these ships which avoided the regulations by staying outside the three mile limit and I had been out to the Lucky Strike a number of times. It was about the best equipped gambling ship of the lot and I had at one time or another won considerable sums of money. I would try my luck again.

Whether it was because I had faith in my luck or because I had something to do I brightened up and I drove to the Writers’ Club and cashed a cheque for a thousand dollars.

I had a few drinks and some sandwiches and spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the illustrated papers and brooding about Gold.

I had a light supper at the club and it was just after nine o’clock when I drove down to Santa Monica bay. I turned into the parking lot on the pier and for several minutes I sat in the Chrysler looking across the bay.

I could see the Lucky Strike anchored outside the three mile limit. It was a mass of lights and already taxi-boats were going out to the ship.

It was a good ten minutes’ ride out to the Lucky Strike. The taxi-boat rolled and pitched a little, but it did not bother me. There were only five other passengers with me. Four of them were well dressed, rich looking, middle-aged businessmen and the other was a girl. She was tall and a red head. Her skin was creamy and soft looking. Her body in her tight yellow dress was soft looking too. She was voluptuous and sensual and she had a high-pitched, slightly hysterical laugh.

I sat opposite her. She had good legs although they thickened abruptly above her knees. She was with a grey haired man with a hooked nose. He seemed kind of embarrassed when she laughed. I looked at her and she looked at me. I could see she knew what I was thinking because she suddenly stopped laughing and began pulling her skirt over her knees. It was too short and tight, so she kept her hands on her knees and did not look at me any more.

The Lucky Strike was about two hundred and fifty feet long.

It looked big from the little taxi-boat and there was trouble with the red head before she got aboard. I guess she was kind of self conscious climbing up the wind swept ladder. Anyway she made a lot of fuss and the man with the hooked nose got mad at her.

There was a big crowd on board and I lost sight of her. I was sorry. She was like a candle burning in a dark room.

I mixed with the crowd, but I did not see anyone I knew. I wanted a drink badly so I headed for the bar. It was packed with people, but I managed to catch the bartender’s eye. I got part of a double whisky which was handed to me over the heads of the crowd. It was no good trying to get another, so I went into the main cabin where the dice tables were.

I edged through the crowd until I reached the centre table. I had to use my elbows, but the crowd seemed good tempered and let me through. Green dice rolled across the green cloth, struck the rim together and bounced back. One stopped short showing five white spots. The other tumbled out to die centre of the table and came to rest with six spots on top.

A sigh went up as the winner cleared the table of money.

I watched the play for about five minutes and then the dice came to me.

I put down two twenties and threw snake-eyes. I put down another twenty and threw a five. After four throws I made it and let it ride. Then I threw an eleven and began to coast.

I made five straight passes, then I lost the dice. I began to bet on the board.

I found the red head was standing at my side. She was wedging her hip against mine. I leaned against her, but I did not look at her. The dice came around to me again. I put down two fifties and made it. I made two more passes. Then I crapped out.

“You’re losing a lot of weight,” the red head said.

I wiped my forehead with a handkerchief and looked around for the man with the hooked nose. He was wedged against the table opposite us. He could not hear what she was saying.

“Do you like that guy?” I asked. I was betting ten dollars at a time and I had just won again.

She crowded me. “Would it make any difference?”

I got the dice again and upped the ante. “It might,” I said and made three straight passes.

“I’m bringing you luck,” she said. “It’s my red head.”

My next throw was seven. I waited until they paid me and then passed the dice.

“Let’s go somewhere,” I said, my pockets tight with money. “Have you been here before?”

The man with the hooked nose had the dice now. He threw two sixes. They took his money.

“I know all the places,” she said and squeezed herself out of the crowd. I noticed a lot of men enjoyed that. I did not blame them.

I took a quick look at the man with the hooked nose, but he was busy. So I forced myself through the crowd and joined her.

She led me along the deck, through the crowds, up an iron ladder. I could not see her, but I could smell her perfume. I followed her with my nose.

The crowds suddenly disappeared and we were alone. I felt the rail against my back and she was pressing against me.

“The moment I saw you . . .” she said.

“That’s the way it is,” I said and took hold of her. She was big and soft. My fingers sank into her back.

“Just kiss me,” she said and she put her hands under my coat.

We stayed like that for a minute.

Then she jerked away. “Whew! Come up for air,” she said.

I hated her suddenly more than anyone ever hated anyone.

I took hold of her again, but she shoved me off. She was terribly strong. I did not think she could be so strong.

“Don’t rush me,” she said, giggling. “Just take it easy.”

I wanted to slam my fist in her face, but I stood away and said nothing.

I could see her fiddling with her hair. She turned round and looked at the moon that was coming up fast.

“I’d better get back,” she said.

“That’s all right with me.”

She made no move. “He’ll be wondering where I am.”

“I guess he will.”

It was a pushover.

She put her hands on her lips. “I believe you bruised me.”

I did not care a great deal. “Not you,” I said.

She laughed. “The moon looks all right now,” she said, turning back to me.

“Were you waiting for the moon?”

“Hm-hm.” Her hands reached out and I pulled her against me.

“I don’t neck with every guy I meet,” she said as if excusing herself.

“I should worry what you do so long as you do it now,” I said, still hating her, but overwhelmed by her.

She bit my mouth.

Someone laughed on the deck below. I knew that laugh. No one but Eve could laugh like that. I shoved the red head away.

“What’s the matter?” Her voice was a mumble.

I stood listening.

Eve laughed again. I looked over the rail but the crowd was too dense. I could not see her.

“Hey!” The red head sounded angry.

“To hell with you,” I said.

She swung at me, but I caught her wrist. It felt soft and flabby in my grip. She gave a kind of squeal.

I called her a name and left her.

Down on the deck I looked around for Eve. I saw her at last standing by the lighted doorway that led to the roulette room. By her side was a tall hard-faced man in a well fitting tuxedo.

I knew who he was.

As I moved towards them, they went into the roulette room. He had his hand on her elbow and she was looking happy.