"No. He took his things and left and I haven't heard from him since. Makes me think he must have left New York."

"Do you still want him?" She asked it not to hurt him but because she knew he had to say it now and then or die of it.

"Of course I want him," he said briefly. "Drink your coffee. Your patient is howling for attention."

CHAPTER 5.

THREE WEEKS, LAURA wrote in her diary, sitting in the living room while Beebo slept. Three weeks of this, and if it goes on much longer I'll end up hating her. I felt so sorry for her at first. It was such a cruel thing and it hurt her terribly. But she's well nowI know she is. She's lying around getting fat and drinking like a fish and not working. If she doesn't get back to work soon I'll lose my mind. And she'll lose her job for sure. They've been calling all week.

Laura hadn't minded being a nurse at first. She tended Beebo gently and made her rest and, being unsure herself and hounded by her patient to forget it, she never did call a doctor. But Beebo seemed to come out of it fast. Physically the scars healed quickly. At the end of a week she was up and around. She hadn't had a drink since the day it happened, and she talked about going back to work the next Monday.

But then Laura came home late one evening and she found Beebo drunk.

"Where the h.e.l.l have you been?" Beebo shouted at her when Laura came in and found her in the kitchen. "I'm sick and miserable, I've just been through h.e.l.l, and you can't even come home from work to make my dinner for me."

Confronted with such a bombardment of nonsense, Laura wouldn't even answer her. She undressed and took a shower, but Beebo followed her into the bathroom and went right on yelling. Laura had pulled the shower curtain but Beebo opened it and watched her bathe.

"Laura," she said, "where were you?" No answer. "Tell me. Tell me, d.a.m.n it!" It was an order.

"Ask me like a civilized human being, then," Laura said, turning around to rinse her soapy back.

"I'll ask you any way I G.o.ddam please. I have a right to know."

Laura turned the water off and eyed her coldly. "I had dinner with Jack," she said. "He dropped in after work."

"I don't believe you."

"Call him." She stepped out of her bath, cool and dripping and haughty as a princess, and Beebo burned for her.

"I don't believe a word he says. He always lies for you. No matter what I ask him he's always got an answer. I used to like the guy, but Jesus, it's gotten so I can't trust him any more. He's always on your side."

Laura wrapped herself in a towel and began to rub herself, but Beebo suddenly put her whiskey down and clasped her in a bear hug.

"Laura, darling, I felt so rotten today. And I looked forward so much to having you home. It's so quiet and lonesome around here all day without Nix. I nearly go mad. Baby, I know I've taken up a lot of your time, but I couldn't help it. I didn't ask those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds to rape me."

Laura relaxed slightly in the embrace, since she couldn't squirm out of it. "You felt better today, not worse, Beebo. You told me so this morning."

"That was this morning. I got worse this afternoon," she said petulantly.

"You got worse at exactly five thirty when I was fifteen minutes late."

"Where were you?"

"With Jack. Beebo, you've been drinking. You promised me you wouldn't."

"If you'd been home I wouldn't have to!" Beebo released her abruptly, picked up the whiskey gla.s.s with a swoop of her hand, and defiantly finished what was in it.

Laura cinched the towel around herself and approached Beebo. "Do you know what you're saying, you nut?" she said. "You big fool? Beebo, answer me!" But Beebo turned her back and watched Laura with glittering eyes in the mirror on the medicine chest "You're saying that you can't stay sober without me, Beebo. Do you realize that?"

"I can't stay sober if you don't love me, Laura."

"Oh, d.a.m.n you, Beebo!" Laura almost wept with frustration. "You're only saying that to make me feel guilty. To put the blame on me instead of on yourself where it belongs! I didn't give you your first drink, G.o.d knows. I don't ply you with liquor. You've fixed it with your conscience so no matter when you get drunk it's my fault. No matter how much you drink, you're only drinking because Laura is such a b.i.t.c.h. Well, I won't buy it! It's a d.a.m.n plot to make a prisoner of me!"

"A prisoner! Now where did little Bo-peep get that fancy idea?" Beebo's eyes were narrow and sharp in spite of the whiskey. Her anger brought clarity with it. "That sounds like the kind of propaganda Jack would spout."

"No" Laura began, but Beebo silenced her with a menacing wave of her hand. Laura found herself trapped against the bathroom door.

Beebo put a hand up on the door on either side of Laura and looked down at her. "Now, suppose you just tell me what Jack said," she said.

"What makes you think Jack said it? I can think for myself and you know it. And I am a prisoner here!"

"You can't think for yourself when Jack's around. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d is the Pied Piper of Greenwich Village. He opens his; yap and all the little fairies listen popeyed to whatever he has to say. Including you."

Laura looked at her and found herself caught by Beebo's spell again. Beebo was born to lose her temper. She looked wonderful when she did. It exasperated Laura to feel a bare, animal desire for her at times like this.

"Jack said it Come on. Jack said it, didn't he?" Beebo insisted.

"All right!" Laura almost screamed. "Jack said it!"

She looked up at Beebo with embarra.s.sed desire and to make her shame complete, Beebo saw it. And she knew she was in command again, even if only for an hour or so. Beebo was learning to live for those hours. The rest of the time nothing much mattered.

Beebo shifted support of her leaning body from her arms to Laura, lifted up Laura's angry helpless face and kissed it, "Why aren't you like this all the time?" she asked. And Laura startled her when she echoed, "Why aren't you like this all the time?"

"Like what, baby? Drunk?"

"No..." Laura hesitated. She didn't quite understand what she meant herself.

"Mad?" Beebo asked.

"I don't know."

Beebo laughed. "If it'll help I'll get mad and stay mad, Bo-peep, I'll get drunk and stay drunk. Would you like that?" She interspersed her words with kisses.

"No. I justI hate it when you act like a spoiled brat, Beebo."

"I never act like a spoiled brat." Her voice was little more than a whisper now.

They sank to the floor where they were-and made love then.

And even after Laura had finally fallen asleep, in her arms, Beebo felt a tide of renewed pa.s.sion. She caressed Laura's hair and back with her hands and thought, If it can be this good it's not over.

Laura had left work meaning to go straight home. But as before she hadn't gone far when she knew she was headed for Tris's little studio.

Tris opened the door herself. She had evidently been practicing for she was dressed in tights and breathing hard. Her black hair was smoothed over her head, caught in back with a clasp and braided. The braid, heavy and shining, hung halfway down her back and swung like a whip when she whirled.

Tris paused for a moment when she saw Laura on her threshold and for an awful second Laura thought she might turn her away. But Tris smiled suddenly and said, "Laura. How nice. Please come in."

"I just dropped by to say h.e.l.lo," Laura apologized.

"That is not all, I hope?" Tris said, looking at her.

Laura felt an odd little twist of excitement. "Well ... I shouldn't stay. I don't want to interrupt your work."

"Of course you do. That's why you came," Tris said, spinning reflectively in place, her weight shifting delicately to pull her around and around.

Laura didn't know if she was being scolded or teased, if she should leave or stay. Tris stopped twirling and said, "I'm glad you came. I didn't want to work any more anyway."

Laura hesitated, wondering whether to believe her. But when Tris walked across the room to her and kissed her cheek she melted suddenly with pleasure. She stood quietly and let herself be kissed, afraid to return the compliment. She was very unsure of herself with Tris. Even the gentlest gesture seemed to irritate the dancer sometimes. Laura could only let her take the lead.

Tris turned away abruptly, her mood shifting. "Well, now you are here," she said in her careful English. "What would you like to do?" It was a sort of challenge.

"II'd like to see you dance, Tris. Would you dance for me?"

"No." She was pouting. "You are my excuse for not dancing any more today, Laura."

"Maybe we could just talk for a little while, then."

"We could ... but we won't."

Laura was at a loss for words. She stammered a little and finally she blurted, "I think you'd rather have me go home."

"I think Beebo would like you home more than I would. She doesn't let you out very often, does she?"

Laura colored. "She's not my jailkeeper," she said.

"I don't like thisthis interference you force me to make in your love affair, Laura," Tris said and surprised her guest. "I don't know your Beebo, but I have nothing against her. Still, I do not imagine she will like me very well if she finds out you are my guest now and then."

"What do you care whether Beebo likes you or not?" Laura demanded, startled.

Tris broke into a charming smile then, as if to placate her visitor. "I want everybody to like me," she said. "I suppose it is a compulsion left from my childhood." And, as if she had made a guilty admission, she turned away abruptly saying, "Let's go into the kitchen. If I stand in here I will feel obliged to dance."

Laura followed her and sat down selfconsciously. Tris fixed a plate of cookies and gave her a gla.s.s of milk. She smiled.

"I am hard to know, Laura. I am not very gracious. But I like your company." Her smile was as warm and luscious as ripe fruit in the sun.

They finished the food over small talk about men. Laura was lost, silent. She just nodded agreement and listened with dismay. She's trying to tell me she doesn't like girls, she thought. But it's a lie!

Tris rinsed the plates, watching herself all the while in one mirror or another. It was as if she felt herself on exhibition all the time, as if all those mirrors were scattered around to remind her of her own beauty.

Tris dried her hands and turned to face Laura. There was an awkward pause and Laura realized suddenly that she was supposed to get up and leave. They had had their small talk. She had been served food. That was all she could reasonably expect from her hostess, especially since she was an uninvited guest. She felt her heart contract a little in disappointment, and she thought with a flash of yearning of the intimacies of her last visit.

But she was too proud to overstay her welcome, especially after the way Tris had shown her the door last time. So she got up and said, "Thanks Tris. I have to go."

"Oh?" It was merely polite.

"Beebo's expecting me."

"I see." No protest. Tris followed her toward the front door. "Ask me over to your apartment sometime, Laura. You would make a much nicer hostess than I. Besides, I should like to see how your big roommate looks in pants. She does wear pants?"

"Yes, she does." Laura turned to look at her curiously. "But she's a jealous h.e.l.lion."

Tris leaned on the wall by the door, crossing her feet at the ankles.

"Does she know you have been here to visit me?" Her smile was sly, interested.

"No. I don't think she even remembers you," Laura said shortly.

"Ah! Flattering. Do you think it's wise to make a secret of our friendship, Laura?"

"It's either that or get my neck broken," Laura said.

Tris laughed a little, as if the idea of such hard play amused her. "Laura ... would you like to stay a little longer?" she said. Her voice made it sound very inviting.

"I can't." Laura was upset by all the talk of Beebo.

"As long as you leave by eight it would be all right," Tris said. "I have a date at eight."

"With a man?"

"Certainly with a man. I have no secrets, Laura. I do not like to cheat, like you. You cheat with your Beebo by seeing me. But still" she hunched her shoulders and smiled"I like you. You like me. Perhaps it is worth the risk. You are the one who will get your neck broken, not me. I have no right to deny you your pain."

Laura frowned at her. It was an odd thing to say. Tris put her hands on Laura's arms and they stood that way, silent, for a moment.

At last Tris said, "Dance with me."

"I don't know how," Laura said shyly.

"I am a teacher. I teach you. Come on."

"I'm so clumsy, Tris."

But Tris pulled her to the middle of the studio and put a record on. She stood for a minute in front of Laura as if trying to make up her mind where to grasp her, how to start. Laura felt impossibly awkward. But Tris made up her mind quickly and slipped her arms around Laura's neck. Laura was two inches taller than she and Tris was obliged to look up at her when she spoke.

"We will just do it like the teen-agers!" she said. "There is nothing to it really. Stand in one place and shift your weight from one foot to the other, with the beat. That's it. You've got it. That's a good beginning."

Laura couldn't help laughing. "Even I can do that much," she said.

"Ah. Then there is hope. Next year at this time you will do the tour jete."

Laura had her arms around Tris at the waist and they swayed gently to the music, and suddenly all her suspicion and embarra.s.sment faded. She became conscious of the tantalizing jasmine that emanated from Trisfrom her throat and her hair and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, barely covered by the bandeau. The black braid moved softly against Laura's bare arms in back and Tris put her cheek against Laura's, tilting her face up. Her lips were near Laura's ear and she whispered, "You know, Laura, I must tell you something. You are a h.o.m.os.e.xual. Yes?"