Green Eyes Page 0,26

down to the stone bench near the gatehouse.

'I'm losin' touch with Hilmer,' said Laura. 'He wants to be alone all the time.' Strands of hair escaped from her barrette, there were shadows around her eyes, and her lipstick was smeary.

Jocundra was inclined to sympathy, but she couldn't help being somewhat pleased to learn that Laura was not impervious to human affliction. 'He's just involved with his work,' she advised. 'At this stage you have to expect it.' '

'He's not workin',' said Laura bitterly. 'He wanders! All day long. I can't keep track of him. Edman says to let him have the run of the house, but I just don't feel right about it, especially with the cameras breakin' down so much.' She gave Jocundra a dewy, piteous look and said, 'I should be with him! He's only got a week, and I know there's somethin' he's hidin'.'

Appalled by the depth of Laura's self-interest, her lack of concern for Magnusson, Jocundra opened her magazine and made no reply.

Suddenly animated, Laura pulled out a file from her pocket and began doing her nails. 'Well,' she said prissily, 'I may not have totally succeeded with Hilmer, but I've done my job properly... not like that Audrey Beamon.'

Jocundra was irritated. Audrey, though dull, was at least no aggravation. 'What's your problem with Audrey?' she asked coldly.

'It's not my problem.' Registering Jocundra's displeasure, Laura assumed a haughty pose, head high, gazing toward the house: a proud belle watching the plantation burn. 'If you don't want to hear it, that's fine! But I just think you should know who you're associatin' with.'

'I know Audrey quite well.'

'Really!' Laura hmmphed in disbelief. 'Well, then I'm sure you know she's been doin' it with Jack Richmond.'

'Doing it?' Jocundra laughed. 'Do you mean sex?'

'Yes,' said Laura primly. 'Can you imagine?'

'No. One of the orderlies is telling you stories to get you excited.'

'It wasn't any orderly!' squawked Laura. 'It was Edman!'

Jocundra looked up from her magazine, startled.

'You can march right up there and ask him if you don't believe me!' Laura stood, hands on hips, frowning. 'You remember when the cameras went out a whole day last week? Well, they didn't go out... not for the whole day. Edman wanted to see what might happen if people didn't know they were bein' observed, and he got an eyeful of Audrey and Richmond!'

After Laura flounced off, Jocundra whimsically considered the prospect of green-eyed babies and thought about Laura's capacity for lying - no doubt, vast; but she decided it was perfectly in keeping with Edman's methods to have done what Laura said. She tried to imagine Audrey and Richmond making love. It was not as difficult to imagine as she had expected; in fact, given Audrey's undergraduate reputation at Tulane - the sorority girl run amok - she probably would find Richmond fascinating. Further, Jocundra recognized that her own fascination with Donnell had allowed her to relax the role of therapist and become his friend; and if you could become the friend of a man such as Donnell, if you could put aside the facts of his life and see the person he really was -something which had been no chore to do because he was both fascinating and talented - well, then it might even be less of a chore to become his lover.

The dream, however, shone a new light on all this. Jocundra realized the boundaries of her friendship for Donnell were fraying, and she was glad of the realization. Now that it was out in the open she could deal with it, and dealing with it was important. There certainly was no future in letting it develop. The more she thought about the dream, the more convinced she was that Donnell had actually entered her room, that she had convinced herself she was asleep, observing him from the cover of sleep, from a dreamlike perspective. Self-deception was a particular talent of hers, and had already led her to a terrible marriage. Charlie had not wanted to be married, but she had persuaded him. He had been her first lover, and after the rite of passage was unsatisfactorily concluded, feeling sullied, ruined, the ghost of her Catholic girlhood rearing up like a dead queen out of a sarcophagus, she had seduced herself into believing she could love him. From a painfully ordinary and unattractive present she had manufactured the vision of a blissful future, and had coached herself to think of Charlie foremost, to please him, thinking these submissions would