Last Night at the Telegraph Club(68)

“Apparently not,” Lana said.

Claire blew out a stream of smoke impatiently. “You’d think they would avoid asking Ruthie to be an informant, given her past association with homosexuals.” She said the word homosexuals sarcastically, as if it were a joke, but the word still sounded obscene to Lily.

“Do you really think the feds know?” Lana asked doubtfully.

“Oh, they know all right,” Claire said. “She said I should be on the lookout in case they came to interview me, because they told her they knew about us.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Paula said, startled.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire said casually, but there was a tension in the way she brought the cigarette to her mouth and drew on it, deeply. “I’m a nobody. I work in a dentist’s office. No Russians could possibly be interested in anything I do.”

Lily was increasingly bewildered by the conversation. These women were talking as if it were all a good joke, and yet there was an undercurrent to their tone that suggested something darker. She wanted to ask for more details, but she didn’t think she had the right. She barely knew Claire; she barely knew any of these women. She glanced at Kath, who had a slightly puzzled expression on her face as if she didn’t really understand either.

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Lana scooted her chair out of the way so that Betty could set down the pitcher of martinis, four cocktail glasses, and a beer. “It’s on the house,” Betty said.

“Thanks,” Lana said. “Say, what are you up to after the second act tonight? We’re having a little party up at our place. You want to join us?”

“I’m supposed to go out with Cheryl,” Betty said.

“Bring her.” Lana smiled archly. “Tommy loves Cheryl.”

Betty laughed and shook her head. “If by love you mean hate. No, but thanks, doll. I’ll tell Cheryl you said hello.”

“You do that,” Lana said, and then Betty had to leave to attend to another table.

Lana poured the martinis, then raised hers in a toast. “Cheers!” she said as she clinked her cocktail glass against Claire’s.

Lily did the same, holding hers carefully to avoid spilling the clear liquid. The drink smelled astringent, practically medicinal, and when she took a tiny sip, it was sharp on her tongue and a shock to swallow, like cold fire. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“You should come too, Claire,” Lana was saying. “All of you should come over after the show. It would be lovely to have some new faces around. I’m getting a little tired of Tommy’s friends.” She said the word friends dryly, sharing a knowing look with Claire.

Lily wondered what Lana meant. She wondered if the invitation to her party truly included her and Kath, and then she began to hope that it did.





31





After the second act, Tommy came through the crowded room with an entire bottle of the cheap champagne and pulled up an empty chair between Lana and Claire, who made room without being asked. Lily caught Claire looking around a little selfconsciously, as if she knew others in the club were eyeing her proximity to Tommy and wondering who she was. Lana called Betty over to clear away the empty glasses and bring over fresh ones. As Tommy reached over to pour champagne, her cologne drifted toward Lily. The scent was heady, like being drunk on a leather sofa. It made Lily’s skin go warm.

Tommy sat back in her chair, lit a cigarette, and downed a coupe of champagne in one gulp. “That stuff’s terrible,” she groused. “I’ll have to tell Joyce not to serve it tomorrow night.”

“It’s on special,” Lana said in a bored tone of voice. “I think she’s trying to get rid of it.”

“So she’s pawning it off on me and my fans? Of course, gotta save the best for Miss Rita Rogers.” There was a jealous sting to her words, and Lily wondered who Rita Rogers was.

Kath leaned over to her and said, “I’m going up to the bathroom. Come with me?”

Lily didn’t want to leave the table now that Tommy had arrived, but there was a look in Kath’s eye that made her get up. When they reached the dim hallway that contained the stairs going up to the bathroom, Lily caught a glimpse of a woman slipping into the shadows beneath the stairs. She stared for a moment, confused. The woman’s body was moving in an unusual way—her shoulders were bent forward, her head dipping—and all of a sudden Lily realized the woman wasn’t alone. There was another woman with her beneath the stairs, the edges of her skirt visible around the other woman’s legs. They were pressed together, their heads close. Lily couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but she had a good idea.

She hurried after Kath, who was already standing in the unusually short bathroom line. Kath must have noted her flushed face because she asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, flustered.

Kath seemed a bit tense. “Do you want to go over to Lana’s with everyone?”

Lily tried to put the image of those two women out of her mind. “Do you think they really meant to invite us?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Kath’s forehead furrowed as she glanced up the line and then back at Lily. “If we go, it’ll be late. When do you need to get home?”