The So Blue Marble Page 3

  Griselda repeated between set lips, “It isn’t fair. But I’ll bring her right to your apartment.”

  “Do. I’ve planned dinner for you, too. We can discuss plans with Missy then. Arthur will be there.”

  And he’s as bad as you are, Griselda didn’t say out loud. Only worse, for he goes your way.

  Ann put bills on the silver plate. Griselda didn’t protest. Let Ann pay for the lunch. She hated Ann. She had always hated her.

  “It’s almost three.” Ann’s wrist watch was smaller than a breath but more heavily diamonded. “You’d better take a cab.”

  Griselda said, “Yes.” You couldn’t say to Ann, “I’ve no intention of walking to the pier.” You could say it but it wouldn’t do any good.

  She repeated brutally, “As soon as I get Missy, we’ll come.” She wouldn’t let Ann shirk this. She had enough on her mind, marbles, Con, without a teen problem child.

  She hailed a cab. It crawled through crosstown traffic until it was past Broadway. Then it lurched. The Queen Mary was in dock. She took the elevator up to the pier. There were passengers and passengers and too much luggage. The customs men were braided between.

  She didn’t know Missy. She hadn’t thought of that before. Missy didn’t know her. Missy didn’t even know she was in New York.

  ***

  The two of them came galloping along the wooden pier. They were late, obviously late. They didn’t see her. She saw them first and she shrank into luggage and customs’ uniforms. They weren’t in tall hats now; their hats were brown, back on their heads; their suits were browny tan, Scotch woven, and their boots English brown. Their brown overcoats fled behind them. Their sticks were under their arms.

  They didn’t see her but she watched them until they came to a lovely girl. Blond Danny caught the girl up in his arms and kissed her five or six times, on cheeks and nose, chin and mouth, and the girl laughing with delight. Then dark David pushed Danny aside and held the girl too tightly and her tiny hands tight against his shoulders.

  She hadn’t noticed this one before; she’d been looking for school girls. This was exquisite, tiny, not as high by far as the twins’ shoulders. Her hair was the color of the lemon ice Ann had spooned at lunch, maybe a shade darker, but not much. It was cut off square as a Dutch doll’s, banged over dark arrow brows, square against pink cheeks. She wore a dark skullcap, like a Cardinal, on the back of her head. It was so far back, she looked hatless. Her mink coat was the darkest, the finest, Griselda had ever seen, even in movie star land. It was long and shawled, and beneath it you could see the exquisite frock, black with a touch of lemon ice at the throat.

  The twins spoke to her a moment, turned, and Griselda shrank again. They left the pier as quickly as they had come. Then she walked in the girl’s direction. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. But it was Ann’s nose and pointed chin, and the lemon hair tossed as Maman’s used to toss.

  The girl cried out joyfully, “Griselda!”

  She asked, not believing, “Are you Missy?”

  “But of course I’m Missy!” She flung her arms about her sister and kissed her on both cheeks. “And you’re Griselda.”

  Griselda was curious and she felt something strange within her, something cold. She asked, “How did you know me? I wouldn’t know you.”

  Missy had a tinkling laugh. “But of course. I have changed from child to woman. You are the same.” There was something foreign in her shoulders, her phrasing, maybe a faint accent. She had great eyes, dark as purple, long-lashed. Griselda hadn’t remembered violet eyes. But it was Missy. She remembered the teeth, the look behind the face.

  “If these customs men will but hurry.” She tapped over to them. She wore black satin pumps with such very high heels. And she had been embracing the Montefierrow twins. That cold something was a lump in Griselda’s stomach. It shouldn’t be there. Perhaps the twins were Missy’s joke.

  She returned, spreading her fingers, “Allons! It is done. We can go now, Griselda.”

  “But your luggage?”

  “It shall be sent me. At the hotel. I am stopping at the St. Regis.”

  That great hotel, on the corner across the street. They went into the elevator. “But you can’t stay at a hotel alone.”

  Missy laughed again. “Why not? Because I am jeune fille? I have stayed very much at hotels alone. In Paris at the Ritz, in London, at Claridge’s…”

  Griselda was stern. “But with Maman and her Prince.”

  Missy shook her head. “But no. Maman is in Rome always. And Rome is so stuffy.”

  It was Missy who hailed the cab, who directed the driver. Griselda felt an incompetent child with her, as she always felt with her mother. Missy was too like her.

  In the cab, Griselda asked again curiously, trying to make her speech undeliberate, “I still can’t see how you knew me. You didn’t even know I was in New York.”

  “Oh, yes, I did.”

  Griselda waited.

  “You know of clipping bureaus? I know all about you and Ann.” Missy’s grin was a monkey’s.

  She was startled, amazed. “You don’t mean Maman-”

  Missy shook her head. “Not Maman. Me.” She pounded herself with her fists. Then she was pleading. “You don’t mind, Griselda? I had no family. Maman does not want me. And the Prince…” She spat. It wasn’t a gesture. It was real. And they were at the St. Regis.

  Griselda followed her in, listened to her demand of the clerk certain requirements, a fine suite, with sun, on the corner; listened to him humbly meet the demands. Griselda wondered if she were dreaming again. Desk clerks weren’t humble to her; they were snippy. She watched Missy register in a round hand, “Missy Cameron, Palazzio del Artiaggo, Rome, Italy,” watched her open her black pouch and dump on the desk a crumpled handful of English notes, a purple lipstick, a powder box shaped like a frog, a knife-thin platinum cigarette case, a stick of chewing gum, a torn white lace handkerchief, and finally a key ring which she shoved at the clerk. “My luggage will arrive. Have it opened and unpacked and cared for.” She crammed back the rest of the things.

  The clerk said, “Yes, Miss Cameron,” and she took a five pound note and handed it to him. “For those who attend the luggage.”

  She turned back to her sister. “What do we do now?”

  “We’re going up to Ann’s.”

  She frowned. “So soon? Why do we not go to my rooms first-have a cigarette-an apйritif?”

  Griselda refused. She was definite and she didn’t know why. She only knew she didn’t want to go up to the suite. “Ann is expecting us. She had to take Allen, her little boy, to the dentist. That is why she couldn’t meet you.”

  Missy nodded but she wasn’t exactly satisfied. They went out of the door on to Fifty-fifth Street and Griselda didn’t say, “I live across the way.” She doubted if it would be news anyway. They walked around to Fifth Avenue and hailed a cab.

  She said, “Go up Fifth to Seventy-ninth-corner of Seventy-ninth and Madison.” Then she turned to Missy. She looked into Missy’s eyes and she spoke calmly, spacing her words: “Who were the two young men who met you at the pier?”

  Missy’s eyes didn’t blink. Her voice came surprised. “What two young men? No one met me but you.” She opened her bag again, rooted for the cigarette case, took from it a cigarette. It was white with a tiny gold band on the tip, as tiny a gold M monogrammed above it. She asked, “Have you a match, Griselda? You must have seen someone else.”

  No one else had that mink coat. No one else had icy blonde hair with a circlet of black satin at the back of it. Missy was a liar.

  3

  Arthur Stepney sat at the head of the dining table. His dark business suit, his starched collar, white shirt, quiet foulard tie, were as uninteresting as his mind. He was good-looking enough, his brown hair beginning to gray at forty, his face tanned from his club sunlamp. He had a face like any other face in a successful bank. It was obvious that Missy thought him dull from the time he came in, gave the
correct greeting, suggested the correct sherry, took the most manlike chair in Ann’s pale green and ivory living room.

  Ann was at the other end of the table, her dark head against the tall period chair. And Griselda saw that Missy didn’t like her eldest sister. She was chattery with her. She asked questions but she didn’t answer questions except with lies.

  Missy liked Griselda, oh, so much! She was sweet; she was childlike; but Griselda understood. Missy didn’t like her but she wanted something from her. And that something was mixed up with David and Danny, like as not the something was a mythical very blue marble.

  Arthur was beginning to realize and he was duller than ever. “But it is absurd,” he said. “Of course you can’t stay alone at a hotel. We’ll make room for you here. Won’t we, Ann?”

  Ann looked across the candle flames. “I only wish we could. But we haven’t any choice, Arthur, no extra room.”

  Arthur knew that voice. But he protested, “We can’t let her stay alone at a hotel. You know that, Ann. What would my mother think?”

  Missy patted his arm. “Please, dear Arthur. Do not be disturbed. I have stayed alone in hotels for these many years.”

  His eyes opened on her. “I thought on the continent young girls were more protected than here.”

  She smiled at him. Arthur was susceptible to pretty women and she knew it already. Her hand stayed on his arm.

  She said, “The continental girls, yes-but the Americans!” And she told an incident, ever so slightly naughty, about one of the Prince’s relatives. They laughed together.

  Ann didn’t laugh. She rang for Olga and said, “If you were to move to the hotel, Griselda, there would be no question.”

  Griselda said flatly, “I’ve no intention of moving to a hotel, Ann. I loathe hotels. I’m lucky to have an apartment here.” And to Missy’s swift look she added, “I’m sorry I haven’t room for you there, but I haven’t. I’m only borrowing the apartment anyway and I’d hardly feel like asking anyone else into it. Besides there is no room.”

  Missy seemed to recognize finality. She shrugged. “Yes, it is too sad, but I have the very fine suite and I like hotels.” She was like a small leopard stretching. “I like comfort.”

  Griselda asked, making her voice light, looking at her endive, “How did you happen to come to New York at this time, Missy?”

  “I don’t know. I was so tired of Paris, of being alone. I think: I shall come to see my sisters again.” Her smile was like a little girl’s and her voice.

  Griselda insisted, “Did Maman think it a good idea?” She watched but there was no hesitation in Missy’s wide eyes.

  “But yes. Maman does not care what I do-if I do not bother her.” And she laughed again and told Arthur another story, slightly more naughty, about another relative of the Prince.

  Ann couldn’t ring for Olga now. The salads weren’t half eaten. Griselda drew a quick breath. She asked, “Have you ever heard of a blue marble, Arthur?” She was watching under her eyes and she was sure there was some transition behind Missy’s mouth.

  Arthur was slightly cross at being interrupted. “A blue marble. A blue marble. What kind of a blue marble?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know. A very blue marble.” She included all of them. “Do you know anything about it?”

  “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Ann said.

  “How funny!” Missy nibbled her fork.

  Arthur said, “What about it?”

  Griselda put down her fork with a tiny cling against the plate. “Something very strange happened to me last night. Was it last night? It seemed years ago. “I was coming home from the theater. I walked down Fifth and at the corner of Fifty-fifth, two young men spoke to me.”

  “I hope you didn’t speak to them,” Ann put in placidly. “It’s dangerous. So many things happening these days.”

  “They were presentable, Ann. I thought college boys at first. And it happened so quickly-and I was frightened…”

  ”What did you do?” Arthur demanded.

  “I couldn’t get away. They knew where I lived. I pretended it wasn’t the place and tried to walk by but they took my key and they went up with me to the apartment.”

  Ann’s breath was quick. Arthur was frowning. Missy was big-eyed, interested, but there was more. It wasn’t for all to see but there was something behind the mask.

  “They knew the apartment They spoke of Con…”

  Now Ann was less interested, patronizing again. “Friends of Con, of course.” She made it sound as if all friends of Con were expected to do wild, uncouth things.

  “I thought so but evidently not. Gig didn’t know of them and…” Con couldn’t have known them; they’d been abroad twelve years; but she saved that until later, the gossip column. “They fixed drinks and then they said they wanted their marbles, in particular a very blue marble.”

  “What did you do? Missy asked. She really wanted to know.

  Griselda laughed. “Fortunately I didn’t have to do anything. Gig arrived just in the nick of time.”

  “Who’s Gig?” Missy asked. The child’s face was up again.

  “A very brilliant young professor-Columbia- friend of Con’s. He lives in the apartment just across the hall.”

  Ann said, “Well, I must say I think you should move to a hotel. It isn’t safe staying where such things can happen.”

  Griselda spoke slowly, deliberately. “I have no intention of moving to a hotel. I haven’t any marbles, and I’m certain Con doesn’t keep them. And if he did, he certainly wouldn’t leave a valuable one lying around for strange tenants to throw out. He’d put it in a safe or something.” Let that message go back. She spoke lightly, “It was probably a joke, and I’m not afraid any more. Not with Gig across the hall. Besides if it were not a joke and they really were looking for a marble, they’ll know by now I haven’t it.”

  Missy whooped, “Quel excitement! How glad I am that I am in New York!”

  Griselda smiled. Then she asked, “Arthur, do you know the Montefierrows here?” This time something did twitch in Missy’s temple. She saw it.

  “I know the family, of course.” He was pompous as always when he knew the great. The Stepneys were not as socially important as they would have liked to be. “The father was chairman of The Bank.” The Bank was always Arthur’s bank.

  Ann was important rather than pompous. “You know my friend, Elizabeth Vandecor. She is a cousin.”

  Griselda said, “This morning the picture of my two young men was in the News. They are the Montefierrow twins-Davidant and Danver. They arrived on Wednesday from Paris.”

  Ann laughed now and Arthur was relieved. He said, “A prank, of course!” Ann said, “How priceless!” Missy didn’t say anything.

  Griselda added, “They knew my name and where I lived. I’d never seen them before.”

  Ann led into the living room. She and Arthur were still pleased with the society joke. They didn’t try to explain it. She said, “But we’ll have to know them. It’s priceless, Griselda.”

  Griselda asked, “Did you ever meet them in Paris, Missy?”

  She looked a petulant child. “I’m only sixteen. I’m not allowed to go out places.” It wasn’t a lie but it was.

  Griselda took a chocolate wafer. “I hope I never have to see them again. It’s rather upsetting having such things happen even as a joke.”

  Ann asked more questions.

  Griselda said, “Yes, they’re very good-looking. They are twins. Identical twins. But one is dark, the other fair.”

  She alone knew Missy shivered but it was quickly and the little sister was talking to Arthur about the crossing.

  Griselda called Gig on the bedroom phone, Ann’s crimson and gold bedroom, sitting on one of the crimson coverlets quilted in gold thread. It was only ten o’clock but he was in.

  “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

  She told him, “I’m getting ready to leave. I’m at Ann’s, my sister’s. I’ll take a cab
down and I’m going to hide my key in my shoe. I’ll ring your bell and you let me in and wait in the upper hall for me.”

  “Has anything happened today?”

  She hesitated. “Not-not exactly.”

  “I could come for you.”

  She vetoed that. “I’m not frightened. Only cautious.” She told him, “If by any chance you don’t hear from me in an hour, ask the superintendent to let you into my apartment, and if I’m not there-start looking.”

  His voice wobbled. “Maybe I should come get you.”

  She said, “No,” again. “I’ll be with my sister. My little sister. She’s stopping at the St. Regis. I’ll drop her off there. If I’m frightened I’ll have a hotel boy walk across with me.”

  She returned to the living room. The three were still sitting there, Missy in the green brocade chair, Ann in the white, Arthur on the laurel-leaved couch. None was near the foyer phone.

  Missy had suggested the leaving before. They all stood in that before-departure apathy. Arthur helped them with coats.

  Ann said, “I’ll ring you in the morning, Missy. We’ll have lunch and make some plans.” She seemed only then to realize that none had been made for the youngest. “You’ll join us, Griselda?”

  She was sorry. She had a business engagement: wholesalers.

  She and Missy took the elevator. The doorman whistled the cab, spoke goodnights.

  Griselda said, “St. Regis. Go down Madison,” and, “I’ll drop you there, Missy.”

  “Where is your lovely apartment?”

  You know, she told herself coldly. Aloud she said, “On Fifty-fifth, east, just cat-a-corner from the hotel, nearer Madison.”

  “I can drop you.”

  She was definite. “No. I’ll see you in and walk across.”

  Missy extricated the wafer case, lighted another cigarette with the gold M on it. She hadn’t smoked at Ann’s. This time she had a match. She gurgled, “What fun to be so near. You’ll let me see the apartment sometime, won’t you?”