Free I Could Go on Singing by John D. MacDonald

her. I’m telling you, you’ve got to make a new plate. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. And I will have a good attitude. If it looks even a little like Jenny Bowman, we’ll approve it, okay?” As he listened, he looked over at Jason and winked. Then he said, “By Thursday. Fine. What’s that? Four tickets? Harkness, I could not get my ownmother four for the Friday opening, but I can put a reserve on four for Saturday, if you don’t mind they aren’t real choice. They’ll be at the box office in your name. Right. Thanks a lot.”
    He hung up and said, “Lois, put down …”
    “I’ve got it.”
    George ran fingers through thinning hair and stared at Jason. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. She and the doctor are flying to Cannes for a second honeymoon and we scratch the London engagement.”
    “He’s picking her up early this afternoon and driving her out to the school where the boy is.”
    George sat on the bed. “Now isn’t that just dandy! Picking her up here. And the press people hanging around the lobby, all ready to follow them out there. Maybe they can get some nice pictures of the three of them. Star reunited with giveaway baby. The indiscretion kid. Lois, you better go work up that stuff while I figure out how to smuggle her out of here.”
    Lois Marney stood up and picked up her purse and black cardigan and left.
    “I make it sound hard,” George said, “but it’s no problem. I’m just getting a little gun shy. And my gut is acting up. It’s like an old bullet wound. It anticipates trouble. Sorry I had to fold so quick last night.”
    “You left me in good hands, George.”
    “Lois is a good kid. Without her taking care, this whole thing would fall apart. Of course, maybe it will anyway.”
    “And you say she’s been with you over two and a half years?”
    George gave him a quick shrewd look. “Aha! The merchandise intrigues. You wouldn’t be trying to pump me, old buddy. My God, your face is turning red, Jase! I would have had to see it to believe it. I am sorry, pal, but you better just cross it off your list.”
    “She has other plans?”
    “Just say she has no plans at all, and nobody can sell her any plans. It all looks very delicious indeed. But all you get to do is look. I think she took too much of a bruise in that marriage. Maybe it knotted her all up too much. But you know this cruddy industry, Jase. Some experts have zeroed in on her and struck out swinging, much to their astonishment. We did a television special with Kirby King last year. He decided he wanted it, and he went after it, and I’d guess hehasn’t missed once since he was sixteen years old. He tried every approach he’d ever used or ever heard of, and I think he made up some new ones nobody had ever heard of before. Nothing worked, and he was getting pretty sullen about it, and finally he decided he would just plan grab her, figuring maybe that after she finished jumping and yelping he could gentle her down. But she didn’t jump and she didn’t yelp. She just went limp, and as soon as she had the chance, she brought the knee up. Kirb lost all interest in her forever. He hobbled around like a little old man for days and days. So you’ll have to figure out something else if you want to sweeten this little junket. It shouldn’t be hard, pal. The town is loaded.”
    “So is the Coast, George. And always has been. And I went that route for a while, and eventually it turns into the dreariest thing in the world.”
    “Jason, we are getting old.”
    He smiled at George. “And I find it restful. When you get to the point where you have to stop proving things. So old, in fact, that I would far prefer an unsuccessful pursuit of your Lois Marney to a custom bed teeming with nubile little English lassies.”
    “You turn a nice phrase, Jason. A nice phrase. So be our guest. Lois is fun to talk to and fun to be with, and she won’t let you get in the way of the work she has to do. I shall even tell her you