The Lonely Lady by Harold Robbins Page A

there.”
    “I’m not afraid of them. They’re not going to try anything again. Besides I can’t hang around the house all the time.”
    “You can go back if you want to,” he said. “But don’t push it. You still haven’t got all your strength back.”
    “I thought I’d wait over the weekend and go back on Monday. It’s easier at the beginning of the week.”
    “Okay,” he said, “but don’t hesitate to call me if there’s anything you need.”
    “Thank you, Doctor.” She watched the door close behind him, then got out of bed. She felt vaguely troubled. Bernie and Fred had been telephoning every morning but this morning there had been no calls. She slipped into a robe, went downstairs and on a hunch decided to call Bernie at home.
    When he answered he said, “I was just going to call you.”
    She looked at her watch. It was after eleven o’clock. “Why aren’t you at work?” she asked.
    “Corcoran fired us,” he answered.
    “You and Fred?” Surprise raised her voice. “What for?”
    “I don’t know. But Marian’s mother has been making a big stink. God knows what kind of story Marian told her.”
    “Where’s Fred?”
    “He’s out at the club packing.”
    “Will you run me out there?”
    He hesitated a moment. “He’s pretty upset.”
    “So am I,” she said. “Will you?”
    “Okay. When?”
    “Right now. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”
    ***
    “Fred! Fred! Her voice floated on the wind across the dunes.
    She was standing at the crest of the small hill that separated the beach from the clubhouse. He raised his hand and waved, then stood waiting as she ran down the hill. There was, he thought, something simple and animal-like about the way she moved. He came out of the water to join her on the beach.
    Without speaking, she took his hand. He stood very still for a moment, feeling the warmth in her fingers. Then, still holding hands, they began to walk along the water’s edge.
    “It’s not fair,” she said finally.
    His eyes sought hers, his voice was soft. “Nothing ever is, little girl.”
    “Why do you call me that?”
    “That’s what you are. A little girl just growin’ up. Trying being a woman on for size.”
    “Maybe you’re right. I feel like that sometimes.”
    They were silent again for a few minutes and then she said, “They can’t do this to you.”
    He smiled. “They done done it.”
    “They won’t do it if they learn the truth,” she said. “I don’t know what Marian’s mother said, but when I tell Mr. Corcoran what happened he’ll hire you back. You’ll see.”
    “You’re not goin’ to tell that queer bastard nothin’!” His voice was almost savage.
    She looked up at him, startled by his tone.
    He hadn’t meant to frighten her. But she hadn’t heard the stories that had been circulated by Mrs. Daley and Mr. Corcoran. Suddenly JeriLee had become the villain of the piece while Marian had grown an instant halo. “I’ll find another job,” he said more softly.
    She stopped. “But where will I find another friend like you?”
    Her words seemed to reach into his heart and suddenly his eyes burned with tears. “You’re a lovely lady, JeriLee. You’ll find many friends in your lifetime.” He turned and stared out over the water, fearing that if he looked at her, he would take her into his arms and lose something he never really had. “It’s beautiful here,” he said. “So peaceful.”
    She didn’t speak.
    “I guess that’s what I’ll miss. Walkin’ on the beach barefoot in the mornin’ before anyone’s awake an’ there’s no people aroun’ to spoil it.” He deliberately lapsed into black talk. “Black folk got nothin’ lak this back in Harlem.”
    “Won’t you ever come back to see me?”
    He let go of her fingers. “I got no business here. Besides, I’ll be busy. Workin’ all summer an’ back to school in September.”
    “You’re bound to have a day off sometime.”
    There was an agony in his voice. “JeriLee, leave