Goldengirl

He glided past, turned a corner, saw the front door ahead and opened it before Melody touched the doorbell again. He held his hand up in a silencing gesture. Her face twitched in surprise. He tugged her inside, closed the door and hustled her to the staircase across the hall. They were upstairs before they heard the phone receiver being replaced.

Melody started trying doors. The first two bedrooms were unoccupied, the beds stripped. Before there was time for a third, steps sounded on the stairs. Dryden nudged Melody into the second room, gently closing the door behind them. There was nothing they could do but stand together in the only place unseen from the door, the angle formed by one end of the wardrobe and the wall.

‘Dryden Merchandising certainly looks after its staff,’ Melody murmured, wriggling pleasurably against him.

They heard a door opened, and voices nearby. Scraps of the conversation carried to them. The nurse was passing on orders. ‘...stay in your room at least until we’re sure... I know, my dear, but he insisted... can’t take risks... I have to check the doors and windows.’

Her steps receded. Melody gave a small sigh as Dryden eased away from her and moved to the door.

In the passage he pointed to the door opposite, turning with eyebrows raised inquiringly to Melody. She nodded. He turned the handle and pushed it open.

‘Jack!’ Goldine ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck before she saw Melody was there. She was wearing a white bathrobe and slippers. Her face was drawn, definitely thinner than it had been when he had last seen her in Eugene. ‘Melody!’ she said in surprise. ‘I didn’t expect—’

‘Skip it,’ said Melody. ‘It’s good to see you have the strength.’

‘I’m a whole lot better,’ said Goldine, disentangling herself. ‘The treatment is just marvelous. You knew I was ill, Jack? Doc has been giving me injections. I should be back in training by the weekend.’ She motioned to them to sit on the bed. ‘Say, how did you get in? Nurse Piper said there were people about, but I never thought—’

‘No matter,’ said Dryden. ‘This illness — has it been diagnosed?’

She nodded. ‘It’s not an illness. It’s a diet problem. You know how people are allergic to things? There was something in my food—’

‘Sugar, perhaps?’

‘Maybe. They’re giving me Sweet’n Low with my coffee. Doc says I shall have to be careful what I eat in the future. He wants to get me right before I have my medical for the Games. I was a little anxious at missing the team briefing, but Doc has explained everything to them and I’ll catch up next week.’

Dryden exchanged a glance with Melody. ‘You haven’t seen the papers?’ he asked Goldine.

‘All they have here is very old Reader’s Digests,’ she answered. ‘Is there something I should see? Nurse Piper hasn’t mentioned a thing. The Olympic Committee does understand I was ill, don’t they? There isn’t any complication about that?’

‘Nothing that can’t be retrieved,’ said Dryden. ‘You still expect to run in Moscow?’

A look of annoyance crossed her face. ‘Why shouldn’t I? I earned the right, didn’t I? You think I’m a quitter?’

‘Easy,’ murmured Dryden. ‘I was only suggesting, if your health—’

‘My health’s okay,’ Goldine cut in vehemently. ‘I had a diet problem. Have you got that straight in your head? I’m going to Moscow and I’m going for gold. God help anyone who tries to stop me now.’ She kept her voice level; the intensity of her eyes was emphasis enough. She held the look until it was clear that the assertion stood unchallenged, then relaxed it and inquired, ‘How’s the merchandising shaping? Have you made a start yet?’

‘It’s well under way.’

‘Tell me about it.’

She seemed genuinely interested, so he outlined the results of his negotiations to date, explaining how an image was emerging already. Once or twice she stopped him to ask if a contract was firm. Far from being overawed by commercial commitments, she listened to Dryden in mounting excitement. She was entirely taken up with the publicity possibilities, building her own picture of what Goldengirl would be. She took little interest in the financial terms. ‘It amounts to over two million pledged already,’ Dryden told her with excusable pride. ‘That’s only the West Coast. New York should be good for at least as much again.’

‘New York?’ she responded dreamily. ‘Are the Helena Rubenstein people based there? I’d like to have something going in the beauty business.’

‘You will,’ promised Dryden. ‘It’s high on my priorities here. I have plenty of contacts in New York.’

As he was speaking, the door opened. ‘In that case, what are you doing in Cleveland?’ asked Dr. Serafin.

Nineteen

Dryden had been waiting for this.