Part 19 (1/2)

”You got her out of prison so you could show her to me, didn't you? What is she taking?”

”Actually,” said Gillian, ”in my case, it was what I stopped taking that made me better.”

Encouraged by her success so far, Gillian had thought her remark would be helpful, but it proved a serious mistake. Susan for the first time became volatile, throwing her stubby hands through the air.

”I keep telling them that! If they'd just let me stop, I'd be back, I know I'd be back! She's back and she doesn't take anything.”

”Susan, Gillian was in prison, not a hospital. She served her sentence. Now she's putting her life back together.”

”Like you want me to do.”

Arthur was stymied here. It did not seem much to concede, but apparently he'd learned over the years that granting any point would reinforce Susan.

”I would like that, Susan, but you have to do what makes sense to you.”

”I want to get better, you know, Arthur.”

”I know you do.”

”Then you can bring her back.”

”Gillian?”

”Whoever she is. Bring her on Tuesday. Three is better anyway.”

Arthur, for the first time, appeared alarmed.

”I don't think she's available Tuesday night. You work then, don't you?”

Gillian watched Arthur for cues, but it seemed his question was genuine. She shook her head circ.u.mspectly.

”Now you don't want me to be around her,” Susan said.

”Susan, ask yourself if you're making an effort to cooperate.”

”Why won't you let her come on Tuesday? You don't really want to help me. You want me to keep getting this s.h.i.+t and she doesn't want me to, and so you don't want me to talk to her.”

”Susan, I really like it when you're not so provocative. Why don't you go home now with Valerie?”

Susan remained agitated, insisting that he was trying to keep her away from Gillian. And he was, of course”Gillian could see that, albeit for her sake, rather than to hurt Susan. She felt inclined to volunteer for whatever 'Tuesday' was, but hesitated because of the unpredictable results so far of her attempts to be helpful.

Instead, Arthur temporized, telling his sister that they would see. Susan quieted briefly, then refused, almost visibly, to move toward equilibrium.

”I know she won't come.”

”Enough, Susan,” said Arthur. ”This is enough. You've had a cigarette. I've said we'll see about Gillian. Now go with Valerie.”

It was several more minutes, but eventually Susan and Valerie were both in the white van from the Franz Center, as the group home was known. Susan departed, vowing to discover who Gillian really was. As soon as the vehicle pulled out of sight, Arthur fell over himself apologizing, first to the cop who'd stood by throughout, then to Gillian. He explained that whenever one thing went wrong with Susan”the cigarettes, today”the whole scaffolding was likely to collapse.

”Arthur, there is nothing to apologize for. But may I ask the significance of Tuesday?”

”Oh. She gets her shot. And then we go to the apartment. It was my father's apartment, but I'm there now, mostly for her sake. We make dinner. It's become a big deal, especially since my father died. I think that's what she meant when she said three is better.”

”Ah. It would be no great difficulty for me to come, if it's really important to her.”

”I won't ask that. And frankly, Susan wouldn't pay any attention to you, once you got there. I can tell you that from experience. There's no continuity. Except the paranoia.”

Arthur insisted on driving Gillian the short distance to the mall. She briefly demurred, but it was close to five already. As they sped from the police station lot, Gillian asked if it was hopeful that Susan spoke of recovery.

”Every conversation with Susan is about recovery. That's been going on for nearly thirty years.”

Thirty years. Contemplating the energy that Arthur's sister required, she felt another surge in her admiration for him. She would have been exhausted long ago.

”I know you won't believe it,” he said, ”but I think she really liked you. She usually acts as if strangers aren't even there. That business about getting out of prison”I don't have to explain. It's bound to interest her. But I'm sorry she was so insulting.”

”She was far too accurate to be insulting.”

Arthur did not seem to know what to make of that remark, and for an instant the car was full only of the radio's babble. With a moment to think about it, Gillian found herself vaguely amused. Despite Arthur's frequent declarations of common cause with Gillian, it was his sister, not he, who was the kindred soul, a woman blessed with uncommon looks and intelligence, torn down by mysterious inner impulses.

”Susan is every bit as smart as you said she is,” Gillian told him. ”She's quite penetrating.”

”She certainly nailed me,” said Arthur. He exhaled and actually touched the spot on his suit coat over his heart. There was no need to ask which comment had caught him. 'And none of them love you.' She felt yet again the vastly thwarted nature of Arthur Raven's life.

They had reached the mall. Arthur circled his sleek car around the drive in front of Morton's, but she hesitated to leave. It seemed more important than ever that she not cause him further distress, and that she utter some of the consolations she'd considered after their encounter in front of the Center City store yesterday.

”Arthur, not to prolong a sore subject, but I have to say one more word. What made me unhappy when we parted yesterday was that you seemed to feel refused. And I a.s.sure you, it isn't personal.”

Arthur winced. ”Of course it's personal. It's the most personal thing of all. What else could you possibly call it?”

”Arthur, you're not considering the realities.”

”Look,” he said to her. ”You're ent.i.tled to say no. So don't feel bad about it. The world is full of women who've preferred not to be seen with me.”

”Arthur! That is surely not the issue.” She said this with more conviction that she might have predicted. No, Arthur was not Prince Charming, but she held to old-fas.h.i.+oned convictions that beauty was a female prerogative. Truth be told, his looks did not bother her so much as his height, four to five inches below hers, even in low heels. Yet she enjoyed his company. As she always recognized, he was entirely in the grasp of his own compulsions. He could no more cease steering his peas into a pile on his plate than breathing. But he knew it. It was his vision, even acceptance, of himself that rang the chimes of something appealing”that and his ability to soldier on doing what was right. In fact, his steadiness and his refusal to be rebuffed by his sister's lunacy had added significantly to her impression of him. It was not Arthur but she who was the problem.

”Arthur, frankly, you shouldn't want to be seen with me.”

”Because of your role in this case?”

”Because it will taint you in an entire community whose respect is essential in your professional life.” She stared at him. ”What would you envision, Arthur? Dinner and dancing? Why not a law firm c.o.c.ktail party? I'm sure your partners will be impressed that you're keeping company with an aging ex-convict who disgraced your profession.”

”A movie?” he asked. ”It's dark. n.o.body will see.” He was smiling, of course, but it was soon clear he had tired of the conversation. ”Gillian, you've told me ten times that I've been kind to you, and you're returning the favor. But look, we both know this is mostly a matter of instinct. And I can see very well what instinct is telling you.”

”No, Arthur, for the last time, that is not the point. You are kind. And kindness is in rather short supply in my world. But I would be taking advantage of you, Arthur. You wouldn't get what you deserve. No one ever has.”

”I'll take that as no. Without hard feelings. The subject never even came up. We're friends.” He used a b.u.t.ton beside him to unlock the car door and did his utmost to smile brightly. Once again, he offered his hand. She felt entirely infuriated and refused to take hold. He wouldn't see this in any light but the most hurtful to him.