Tiger By The Tail

"He used to be one of Joe Louis's sparring partners. He built up this club from nothing. I wish you could have seen it when I first danced here. It was nothing but a damp cellar with a few tables and a pianist. In five years it's grown to this." She finished her martini and slid off the stool. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

Ken paid for the drinks and followed her across the bar, and into the restaurant.

Several couples were dancing, and most of the tables were occupied.

The Captain of waiters, a dark, hawk-eyed Italian, bustled forward, greeted Fay effusively and conducted them to a table against the wall.

It was while they were finishing an excellent mushroom and prawn omelette that Ken noticed a strikingly beautiful girl come to the door of the restaurant.

She immediately attracted his attention, and he wasn't the only man in the room to stare at her.

She was tall and willowy. Her blonde curls were piled high up on the top of her beautifully shaped head. She wore a sea-green evening gown, cut low enough to show an expanse of creamy white skin that made Ken's eyes pop. Her enormous eyes were emerald green and her eyelashes curled upwards and seemed to be touching her eyelids.

It wasn't so much her face that Ken stared at. Her figure would have stampeded an octogenarian. It stampeded Ken.

"Phew! Who's that ?" he asked turning to Fay.

"Sensational, isn't she?" Fay returned, and he was startled to see how hard her face had become. "You're looking at the biggest bitch in town."

"You sound prejudiced," Ken said, and laughed. He looked again at the blonde. She glanced at him without interest, looked beyond him at Fay and then turned and went out of the restaurant. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Her name's Gilda Dorman," Fay said. "She and I used to share an apartment together once. She sings now. I guess if I had her shape, her morals and a voice like hers I'd be a success too."

The angry bitterness in her voice embarrassed Ken. He pushed back his chair.

"Let's dance," he said.

Fay made an effort and forced a smile.

"Sorry: I was just sounding off. I hate that bitch like poison. She broke up my dancing act." She got up. "Come on then; let's dance."

IV

Ken's wrist-watch showed twenty minutes past midnight as Fay and he walked into the bar.

"One quickie and then home," Fay said.

Ken ordered two highballs.

"I've had a wonderful evening," he said. "I've really enjoyed myself."

She gave him a saucy little look from under her eyelashes.

"You're not going to leave me now, are you?"

Ken didn't even hesitate. The damage was done. He had no intention of going back to the lonely, empty bungalow.

"You said I could change my mind. I've changed it," he said.

She leaned against him.

"Tell me, Buster, is this the very first time you have gone off the rails?"

He looked as startled as he felt.

"What do you mean ?"

"I bet you are married, and I bet your wife's away. That's right isn't it?"

"Am I so damned obvious?" Ken asked, annoyed she could read him so easily.

She patted his arm.

"Let's go home. I shouldn't have said that. But you interest me, Buster. I've had such a nice evening with you. You're such a refreshing change. I just wanted to make certain you belong to someone. If you don't, I'll try and capture you for myself."

Ken reddened.

"I belong to someone all right," he said.

Fay lifted her shoulders, smiling.

"All the nice ones do." She slid her arm through his. "Let's go."

Sam Darcy was in the lobby as Ken collected his hat.

"Going early, honey?" he said softly to Fay.

"It's late enough for me, Sam. See you tomorrow."

"That's right."

Joe the doorman opened the door and stood aside.

"Good night, Miss Carson."

"So long, Joe."

They stepped into the still, hot night.

"It's like an oven isn't it?" Fay said, linking her arm through Ken's.

They walked down the alley to the main street and paused to look for a taxi.

"One will be along in a moment," Fay said, opened her bag and took out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Ken, and they both lit up.

Ken glanced across the road as he noticed a man come out of an opposite alley. He had a brief glimpse of him before the man stopped abruptly, moved quickly out of the rays of a street light into the shadows: a tall, thin, blond man not wearing a hat, young and from what Ken saw of him, good looking.

Ken thought nothing of this at the time, but later he was to remember this man.

A taxi came around the corner and Fay waved.

They sat side by side in the darkness of the cab. Fay leaned against him, holding his hand, her head against his shoulder.

It was an extraordinary thing, he found himself thinking, but I feel I've known this girl for years.

He was completely at ease in her company now, and he knew he would have to make a very strong effort to resist the temptation of seeing her again.

"How long have you been on this racket?" he asked.

"About a year." She glanced up at him. "And Buster, darling, please don't start trying to reform me. It's such an old, old gag, and I get so tired of guys telling me I should be a good girl."