apologize. Put it down to intolerable provocation.” It had the effect of making Cathy seem ungracious.
“Oh, God,” she said ruefully. “John, I’m sorry that I had to get carried away in your house. But I did enjoy being rude to him—”
“That’s it,” Renfrew declared. “No more.” He waved his mug in dismissal.
“Well done, John,” Jan said. “Stand on your rights. Now, if I might have that drink—” She moved towards him, smiling. The rigid circle broke, tension dissipating. He took her elbow and they crossed to the sideboard. Peterson went to talk to Marjorie. Greg sat down on the sofa next to Cathy Wickham.
“Well, I think I took a fall in that round,” she said cheerfully. “But it was worth it for a minute or two there.”
“Did he actually proposition you?” Greg asked. “I was right there and never noticed a thing.” Jan joined them, perching on the edge of the sofa.
“You kidding?” Cathy laughed. “Of course he did.”
“Familiarity breeds attempt, or something. But to come right out and—”
“Oh, he was very subtle and discreet about it. Left room for a gracious refusal, save his ego and all. Self-satisfied bastard. But Jan disapproves of my actions, don’t you, Jan?”
“Well, yes. I think you made things too uncomfortable for John and Marjorie. Frankly, I have the same opinion of him that you do, but …”
“This is fascinating,” Greg said. “Let’s hear you two get your claws into the poor guy.”
“Poor guy? He’s a highly successful, confident, slimy toad who despises women. You going to take his side as a man against two catty females?”
“He despises women?” Greg asked, startled. “I would have thought the opposite was true.” Jan and Cathy exchanged glances.
“He loathes us, every one. And he can’t stand rejection by an inferior being. Why do you think he implied I was gay?”
“Are you?”
She shrugged. “I’m bi, actually. But, yeah, I tend to prefer women. Don’t look now, but old Ian is putting the make on our dear hostess. She’s blushing like crazy.” Markham twisted in his seat and stared across the room, curious.
“Christ, I can’t imagine that. She doesn’t strike me as sexy at all. Besides, she’d probably talk all the time.”
“Now who’s being catty? At least she’s obviously heterosexual—that’s all Peterson needs to soothe his wounded ego. It’ll be Jan’s turn next.”
Jan raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come now. With Greg right here in the room? Anyway, he must know that I don’t particularly care for him.”
“You think either of those facts would bother him? Go talk to him—I’ll bet it won’t take five minutes before he makes a pass at you. Then you can cut him down to size.”
Jan shook her head. “I’d rather avoid the experience.”
“God, that’s too much,” Greg said. “I can’t believe he’s that bad.”
Cathy made a face at him. “Well, bugger you. I’m going to talk to John about his experiment.” She got up and left them.
“Well?” Greg asked.
“Well, what?”
“Don’t you think she’s overdoing it on Peterson? Do you think he really made a pass at her?”
“I’m quite sure he did. But I think what bothers her is being pulled away from her own work by someone who won’t treat her like a scientist. And it can’t be pleasant knowing one’s personal papers have been gone through.”
“Oh, the hell with it. Peterson seems quite reasonable to me, compared to the rest of the company. Renfrew’s dull outside of the lab, Marjorie’s a nit, and Cathy’s abrasive. Jesus. There’s only thee and me that’s normal.”
“And even thee’s a bit queer,” she supplied wryly. “I thought you were feeling good about the experiment. Why is everyone in such a terrible mood?”
“You’re right—we’re all edgy, aren’t we? It’s not the experiment. Personally, I’m not looking forward to flying to Washington.”
“You’re what?”
“Oh, God, of course—I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Here, let me get you another drink and I’ll explain.”
“But we’re planning—”
“I know, but this will only take a few days, and …” The other guests studiously avoided the sofa while Jan and Greg settled their family logistics. Then the Markhams sat for a while listening to the flow of English conversation around them, the long a’s, the rising inflections.
Cathy had wandered out to the patio, announcing that the rain had passed, unnoticed in the tension of the living room. A stretched, artificial good humor seemed to tighten the throats of Peterson and Renfrew as they talked. Their words became clipped and slightly higher in tone. Marjorie’s rushed sentences wove between theirs in a kind