Free Beebo Brinker Chronicles 4 - Journey To A Woman by Ann Bannon Page A

nearly suffocated for one lovely moment with the urge to pull Vega back into the shadows and tell her how beautiful she was, how unfairly beautiful.
    But Vega left her and Beth was soon completely alone in the swirl of frenetic activity. Girls in tulle, girls in tights, girls in skin-fitted sheathes—all so young, all so feather-headed with excitement. Beth watched them a moment, enjoying the practiced movements, the bursts of nervous giggling, the fascinated preening at mirrors. Until she was jostled once too often and felt her solitude in the inconvenience she caused.
    Shortly afterward she left. But she spent the whole evening in a misty fantasy of Vega that even Charlie could not penetrate with his grumblings about Cleve.
    "I think he was out somewhere swilling booze this afternoon,” he said. “He came in about five and he was loaded. If it happens again I'm going to raise the roof."
    "Why does he do it?” Beth asked vaguely. “He's happy with Jean, isn't he?"
    "I guess so. At least she never complains. He could shove a knife in her ribs and all she'd do is hand him that same old smile. But that isn't it. Something is bugging the guy. Always has been, since I first knew him, like he'd committed murder and gotten away with it, and then discovered he couldn't live with his conscience. It almost seems sometimes like he's trying to tell you about it. But he just ends up telling you to be careful."
    Beth looked up at this, remembering her afternoon with Cleve. “Be careful of what?” she said.
    Charlie shrugged. “Who knows? He never gets it said."

Chapter Seven
    BETH AND CHARLIE both jumped when the phone rang at one-thirty in the morning. Charlie grumbled, “I'll get it,” but Beth had a sudden premonition and said, “Oh, never mind. I'll go."
    Willingly he turned over, muttering, “Probably a wrong number. Some drunk, or something."
    It was Vega and she sounded hysterical. “Beth! Oh, darling, thank God you're there."
    "Where else would I be at this hour of the morning?” she said, keeping her voice low so Charlie wouldn't hear the conversation. She was both thrilled and alarmed to hear that cautious smooth voice, charged now with desperation.
    "Beth, you've got to help me. I'm in a ghastly predicament. I'm just frantic."
    "Where are you?” Beth asked.
    "At the Knickerbocker."
    "The hotel?” Beth was relieved; the trouble couldn't be too serious.
    "Yes. It got so late. Some of the girls wanted to stay, so I said it was okay. Oh, I called their mothers and everything. You have to be so damn careful with them, with all these repulsive conventioneers around. It's like trying to smuggle a hoard of diamonds through a convention of international jewel thieves. And if anything happens to any one of my angels—holy God, it'd ruin me! I'd be run out of town on a rail.” She stopped talking suddenly, as if to catch her breath, as if the tension in her had drained her resources.
    "Vega, tell me what happened!” Beth demanded, worried.
    "Well, I—we—” For a moment Beth feared Vega would burst into tears. Her honeyed voice broke and Beth grasped the phone in sweating hands, imagining the worst.
    "Vega, did some bastard try to—” she began but Vega interrupted.
    "No, nothing like that, I just—Beth, darling, would you mind driving over here?"
    In the astonished silence Charlie called out, “Beth, for the love of God. Who is it?"
    "It's Vega. And shut up, you'll wake up the kids,” she hissed at him.
    "Vega!” he spluttered. “What does she want?"
    "I don't know. Please shut up."
    "Well, tell her to go cram it, and come to bed."
    "Beth, I need you. Will you come down?” Vega asked, her voice rough and soft and tantalizingly near to Beth. Beth stood in the dark, feeling her heart skip and a queer concentrated pleasure flash through her body. Beg me, Vega, beg me, she thought. Work for me. I want you so. “It'll take an hour,” she hedged.
    "Not at this time of night. Oh, darling, I'm so miserable. Please