“No,” he said.
I am making him uncomfortable. It’s almost as if he’s afraid of me.
“This is really a beautiful place, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Billy, are you all right?”
“Yes, of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be all right?”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“That’s all right. Forget it.”
“Billy, did I say something wrong? Did I do something?”
“Of course not.”
“You had a lot to drink….”
“Yeah.”
“Is that why you… just disappeared?”
He didn’t answer for a moment.
“When I disappeared, I was getting sober,” he said finally.
“Then why?”
“Sober enough to realize I’d been making an ass of myself with you.”
“Don’t be silly. I didn’t feel that way at all.”
Why did I say that? Not only isn’t it true, but it’s encouraging him.
“The reason I left was because you had just decided to stay over,” he said. “I was afraid.”
What the hell is he talking about?
“Afraid? I don’t understand.”
“I was drunk, and we were fooling around. But that was all right, because you were going to leave, and that would be the end of it.”
I will be damned! He thought I was interested in him!
“And you thought I was staying because of you?” she blurted.
“Pretty dumb, huh?”
“Billy, I did nothing that gave you any right to think anything like that.”
“I know. Now I know. I’m sorry. The thing is, I don’t know much about women. I don’t know anything about women.”
What does that mean? That you’ve never had a girlfriend? That you ‘re a virgin, for God’s sake?
“You’ve never had a girlfriend? Come on!”
He did not reply.
“I can’t believe that, Billy.”
“Yeah. Well.”
My God, he means it!
“Oh, Billy,” she heard herself say; her hand, as if with a mind of its own, reached out and touched his cheek.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Dunn said.
She pulled her hand away from his face.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know whether that meant you felt sorry for me, or whether it meant… that maybe I should try to kiss you.”
“Billy, I feel like your big sister.”
Or maybe your mother. What I would like to do is put my arms around you and comfort you, and tell you everything is going to be all right.
Carol, who do you think you’re kidding?
“Yeah. Well. I figured that was probably it. Sorry.”
“You’re very sweet,” she said.
She leaned forward and kissed him chastely on the forehead. His arms, awkwardly, went around her. He had his face in her neck.
“God, you’re so beautiful!” he said.
What I should do now is push him away. This is getting out of control!
“Billy, now stop,” Carol said, and pushed away from him. This caused him to raise his face so that it was level with hers. She felt his breath on her lips.
“Oh, Billy, this is insane,” Carol said in the instant before her hand went to the back of his head and pulled it toward her.
[FIVE]
The Commissary
Metro-Magnum Studios
Los Angeles, California
1330 Hours 22 October 1942
Veronica Wood had come to the commissary to eat. She was famished. She’d gotten up at half past four, had one lousy four-minute egg, one piece of dry toast, a glass of skim milk, and not a goddamned thing else since.
Since then, there was the twenty-minute ride in the studio limousine, at least an hour and a goddamn half for makeup, and then twenty-two- count ’em, twenty-two-takes of one lousy scene.
Veronica was convinced that the first take was the one that would finally be used: The others were imposed on her because (a) Stefan Klodny the director wanted to polish his reputation as a perfectionist, or (b) the Hungarian pansy had overheard her saying that the worst kind of queer was a faggot Hungarian with a beard. Or both.
She ordered the Metro-Magnum Burger. This came on a Kaiser roll with sesame seeds, and with onions, lettuce, cheese, and some kind of sauce, and with french fried potatoes. The temptation was to wolf the whole goddamn thing down, and then top it off with cherry pie a la mode.