Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

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"I thought sure it'd be a sailor, she spends so much time down at that canteen place." Paul smiled. "Maybe it is," he said. "Barby doesn't tell me everything, either." It wasn't very funny, but Lacey giggled; and when she laughed she looked so young and pleased and pretty that I couldn't help being touched. She was just like a child, with a child's taste for taking her fun with plenty of noise and excitement. What harm was there in that? IT was rather sweet of her, in a way, *■ to be so uncritical in her enjoyment. When a middle-aged singer in garish make-up and little else squeezed herself between the orchestra and the patrons and groaned a deafening torch song into a microphone, Lacey hummed almost reverently with her, and she watched the rest of the cheap, vulgar entertainment with shining eyes. Between numbers she stared with wide-eyed expectancy around her, waving and screaming greetings above the din. I tried not to look apprehensive at every man who lurched down the aisle, afraid that this at last might turn out to be Lacey's date. He arrived around midnight — a big red-faced man whom Lacey introduced defiantly as Bill McGeehan. He nodded briefly at Paul and me and sat down close to Lacey, saying something I couldn't hear but which made her crinkle up her nose and laugh delightedly. "Look," Paul said to me, "I've got a stiff calculus quiz due tomorrow morning. How about us leaving — I don't think we're wanted much anyhow." "Don't," I told him urgently. I grasped his hand, tight. "Don't go, Paul." He looked down at me, surprised and pleased, and his hand answered mine. "Well, if that's the way you feel ... !" he said. I felt guilty, and wanted to explain. But I knew if I did he'd insist upon leaving, and I couldn't leave Lacey now. She had had a good many drinks and they were beginning to show. She was leaning almost on Bill McGeehan's shoulder, looking up into his face with a frank invitation that he could hardly be expected to resist. I thought of Kit, and nearly choked with disgust and revulsion. "Miss me, honey?" Bill shouted at her over the noise around us. "Think I was going to stand you up for once?" She shook her head, her eyes languorous, not even caring now about my hearing what they said. And I wouldn't. I would not try to listen for things that would incriminate her. I smiled brightly at Paul and asked him about his mother. He answered eagerly, giving me all the news of his family and of people we both knew. But I couldn't keep my mind on what he was saying. I wanted so terribly to look over at Lacey and Bill McGeehan. But when at last I did, they were gone. "Where are they?" I interrupted Paul, sharply. "To dance, I suppose," he said, "or what passes for dancing on that floor." His hand took mine again. I peered out at the crowded dancers and shook my head. "They're not there, Paul." "Well, suppose they're not?" he asked with sudden impatience. "Personally, I hope we've lost them." "Lacey's such a kid," I told him. "And in a place like this anything might happen to her." "Nothing she wouldn't want to happen," Paul said with uncharacteristic frankness. "Paul, don't!" "Why not?" His brows lifted in amazement. "Is she sacred? What is she to you?" I could have told him that in some strange way she was sacred. She was Kit's wife. I said, "I — I've got to find her, Paul." I got up and he followed, unwillingly, up and down the crowded bar. I left him finally to search the Ladies' Room. Maybe Lacey was sick. But she was not there. She was not anyplace in the Golden Gate. "It's late, Barby," Paul told me impatiently. "Let's go." There was nothing else to do. At home I knocked at Lacey's door without much hope. "Oh, Paul — " I turned to him desperately. "What shall I do?" "Go to bed and get some sleep." "But—" 13AUL compressed his lips. He was *■ totally without sympathy. "If you'd tell me why you care so much what happens to a girl who's obviously able to take care of herself — " "It's because she's married," I said. I wished wildly that he would understand the rest — yet, somehow, I was also afraid he would. "She'll wreck her marriage this way." But he stared uncomprehendingly. "No doubt. Still, it couldn't have been much of a marriage to begin with. Why should it make any difference to you?" "It does, though." I think that then, although Paul was never very sensitive, he did guess the truth. A shadow of anger crossed his eyes. He was not going to be kind — I could see that. Perhaps, I've thought since, that moment was his chance to change what I felt for him from friendship into love. I would have been so passionately grateful, just then, for sympathy, for help! And I was looking for a miracle that would help me to love him instead of Kit. But Paul could never have understood that. "I give up," he said gruffly. "Call me when you're sane, if that time ever comes." And I watched his broad, straight back retreating down the stairs. I had never felt so alone — and yet I had company enough. I had a kind of exultation that now Lacey had been proved, beyond any shadow of doubt, unworthy of Kit. I had the knowledge that I could tell him, and watch while he cast Lacey aside. And I had my shame that I could even think of such things. Oh, yes, I had all the companionship I needed through the hours until dawn while I waited, straining my ears for the sound of Lacey's return to the apartment next door. Just as the first gray light was creeping in at the windows, I heard her come up the stairs — unsteadily, waveringly; heard the click of the