Part 9 (1/2)

His voice was still low but people close by could hear the anxiety.

- How was I to know? Pamela said.

- Jesus, I knew I shouldn't have lent them to you.

- Oh, take the d.a.m.ned earrings, she said, suddenly annoyed.

- Don't do that.

She was taking them off. It was the first time he had seen her angry and suddenly he was frightened, afraid to be in her disfavor.

- Don't, please. I'm the one who should be angry, he said.

She pushed them into his hand.

- And yes, she said, he saw them. Then, with astounding confidence, Don't worry, he won't say anything.

- What do you mean? What makes you so sure? The answer suddenly struck him like an illness.

- Don't worry, he won't, she said.

Somebody was handing her a gla.s.s of wine.

- Thank you, she said calmly. This is Brian, a friend of mine. Brian, this is Tahar.

She did not answer the phone that night. The next day, his father-in-law called and asked to meet for lunch, it was important.

They met at a restaurant Brule favored, with formal service and a European-looking clientele. It was near his office. Brule was reading the menu when Brian arrived. He looked up. His gla.s.ses, which were rimless, caught the light in a way that made his eyes almost invisible.

- I'm glad you were able to come, he said, returning to the menu.

Brian made an effort to read the menu himself. He made some remark about not having had a chance to say h.e.l.lo the night before.

- I was extremely disturbed by what I learned last night, Brule said, as if not having heard.

The waiter stood reciting some dishes that were not on the menu. Brian was preparing his reply, but after they had ordered, it was Brule who continued.

- Your behavior isn't worthy of the husband of my daughter, he said.

- I don't know if you're in a position to say that, Brian managed.

- Please don't interrupt me. Let me finish. You'll have your chance afterward. I discover that you've been having an affair with a young woman-I'm aware of the details, believe me-and if you place any value at all on your wife and family, I would say you have put that in grave jeopardy. If Sally were to learn of it, I'm certain she would leave you and, under the circ.u.mstances, probably retain custody, and I would support her in that. Fortunately, she doesn't know, so there is still the possibility of this not being disastrous, providing you do the necessary thing.

There was a pause. It was as if Brian had been asked a bewildering question, the answer to which he should know. His thoughts were fluttering, however, ungraspable.

- What thing is that? he said, though knowing.

- You give up this girl and never see her again.

This wonderful girl, this smooth-shouldered girl.

- And what about you? Brian said as evenly as he could.

Brule ignored it.

- Otherwise, Brule continued, I'm loathe to think of it, Sally will have to know.

Brian's jaw, despite his effort, was trembling. It was not only humiliation, there was a burning jealousy. His father-in-law seemed to hold every advantage. The manicured hands had touched her, the aging body had been imposed on hers. Some plates were served but Brian did not pick up his fork.

- She wouldn't be the only one to know, would she? Pascale would know everything, too, he said.

- If you mean you would try to implicate me, I can only say that would be futile and foolish.

- But you wouldn't be able to deny it, Brian said stubbornly.

- I'd most certainly deny it. It would just be seen as a frantic attempt to deflect your guilt and blacken others. No one would believe it, I a.s.sure you. Most important, Pamela would back me up.

- What an incredible, what a pompous statement. No, she won't.

- Yes, she will. I've taken care of that.

He was not to see or speak to her again, without explanation or any farewell.

- I don't believe it, Brian said.

He did not stay. He pushed back his chair, dropped his napkin on the table, and, excusing himself, left. Brule continued with lunch. He told the waiter to cancel the other order.

The earrings were still in his pocket. He set them in front of him and tried to call. She was away from her desk, her voice said. Please leave a message. He hung up. He felt a terrifying urgency; every minute was unbearable. He thought of going to her office but it would be difficult to talk to her there. She was away from her desk, in someone else's office. Even that caused him unhappiness and envy. He thought of the hotel bar. In she had come in a short black skirt and high heels, on her white neck an opaque, blue necklace. With Brule it could not have been anything but sordid, some suggestion in that low voice, some clumsy act on a couch. What could it have been on her part except resignation, finally? He called again, and three or four more times during the afternoon, leaving the message to please call back, it was important.

At six, he somehow made his way home. It was one of those evenings like the beginning of a marvelous performance in which everyone somehow had a role. Lights had come on in the windows, the sidewalk restaurants were filling, children were running home late from playing in the park, the promise of fulfillment was everywhere. In the elevator a pretty woman he did not recognize was carrying a large bunch of flowers somewhere upstairs. She avoided looking at him.

He let himself into his apartment and immediately felt its emptiness. The furniture stood silently. The kitchen seemed cold, as if it had never known use. He walked around aimlessly and dropped into a chair. It was six-thirty. She would be home by now, he decided. She wasn't. He made a drink and sat with it, sipping and thinking or rather letting the same helpless thoughts eat deeper, unalterable, as evening slowly filled the room. He turned on some lights and called her again.

The anguish was unbearable. She had been annoyed, but surely that was only at the moment. It could not be that. She had been frightened by Brule somehow. She was not the sort of person to be easily frightened. He made another drink and continued to call. Sometime after ten-his heart leapt-she answered.

- Oh, G.o.d, he said, I've been calling you all day. Where have you been? I've been frantic to talk to you. I had to have lunch with Brule; it was disgusting. I walked out. Has he talked to you?

- Yes, she said.

- I was afraid so. What did he say?

- It's not that.

- Of course it's that. He made some threats. Look, I'm coming over.

- No, don't.