Page 47

Despite what Thatcher had ridiculed as the eagerness of people to reveal their social

embarrassments, perhaps the walls were really so high here not to keep things from outside coming in but to keep certain truths hidden inside. After all, the richer they were, the tighter the doors, the stronger the locks, the thicker the safes, and the darker and deeper the shadows looming like cobwebs in the corners of their mansions.

Hunger and the need to relieve the intensity of my quest led me back to the hotel, where I changed and went down to the poolside to get some lunch. Afterward. I decided to buy a bathing suit, since I hadn't brought one along, and found a quiet corner to lounge in the shade and get some rest and think. For a while. I was able to turn off the sounds of other guests, the laughter of children, the music, and all that was around me. I fell asleep and then woke abruptly, sensing someone nearby, When I opened my eyes. I saw a man, well into his sixties, if not seventy, standing next to my lounge chair and gazing at me. He held a tall glass with a small yellow paper umbrella sticking out of the top of it. When I opened my eyes, he rained a smile down on me as if he were some long-lost relative who had just found me.

"Yes?" I asked. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping I could help you," he said. "I was sitting just over there." He nodded at the lounge chair across from mine. "I saw how you fell asleep." He glanced at his Rolex. You slept for nearly an hour and a half, and with all this noise. too. Must've been tired. huh?"

"Yes," I said, sitting up and brushing back my hair.

"Hard night last night?"

"No," I said firmly, not liking the tone behind his question.

He laughed as if I were not telling the truth. "As soon as I saw your eyelids flickering. I ordered one of these for you... pina colada. Here," he said, extending it toward me.

"No, thank you." I said.

"Aw, you should. It's happiness in a glass, believe mle." he urged, keeping his arm extended.

Who was this man, and what did he want? He was about my height and easily twenty pounds overweight. His gray hair was thinned to the point of revealing a scalp peppered with age spots, and the line of gray hair on his chest curled down aver his bulging belly like piano wire and made a small circle around his belly button. There were small moles over his saag-ing chest. In the, waistband of his boxer-style bathing shorts were two rather thick cigars. His spindly legs were ribbed with embossed veins. He wore a pair of leather slippers, and there were patches of purple around his ankles. Around his neck was draped an ostentatious gold chain.

"I'm not fond of rich, sweet drinks." I said, and he finally drew his arm back.

"No wonder you have the figure you have," he commented. Then he looked at the drink, considered it, and sipped it himself, shaking his head. "Can't resist these things."

I nodded. I was sure he was telling the truth about that.

"I guess you're here by yourself," he said. "Am I right?"

"Yes," I said.

"What's a pretty young woman like you doing all alone?" he followed, but smiled with his head tilted to the right as if he already knew the answer and was just waiting for confirmation.

I really wasn't in any mood to have a conversation with someone's grandfather. but I couldn't be impolite.

"I'm just here for a short stay, doing some research." I said.

"Research? Uh-huh. That's a new one, but it's a good one," he added quickly.

"Excuse me?"

"Hey," he said, sitting on the lounge beside mine. "I never demand a woman be honest with me, whether it's about her age, her weight, or her previous love affairs." he said. laughing. He sipped some more of the pina colada.

I just stared at him. Was this old man flirting with me? Just the thought of it nauseated me.

"Excuse me." I said, gathering my towel and slipping my feet into my sandals. "but I've got to go in."

"Hey, take it easy. Are you busy tonight?" "Pardon me?"

"If you haven't any plans. I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner. There's a party on a friend of mine's yacht later. too. Maybe you've heard of him. Michael Thomas?"

"No," I said. I was smiling with incredulity, but he thought I was amused, I guess.

"He's the grandson of Thomas door springs, that family." he said. "You'll meet a lot of people there, interesting rich people," he added. "not thatI'm not interesting and rich enough." He laughed and sipped his drink again. "My name's Gordon Lauer," he said, and waited for my reaction. "Breston-Lauer, the fragrance company?" he said.

"Oh."