"Not any more. It seems that the councilneeds extra revenue, and Steinberg has offeredit.""But they can't seU The KnoU!""They can," Mary said, "and it looks likethey will."* * *She thought there was something fishy whenAlec was so subdued for fully three days. Shetried to find out the cause. A loss on the stockexchange? She even looked at his accounts, butthat wasn't it. She'd never considered herselfa nagger as were most of the girls, but shedid have to keep at him."I've been over-ruled, I'm afraid," he finallyconfessed."What do you mean, over-ruled?""The club, I'm afraid.""What, you mean the tennis club?""That for young Henderson. Steinberg too, Ishould say. And you'd better face it. Amy.They've been put up for The Knoll Club andI think they'U get in."She couldn't believe it. After all her plansand all she had done? After the committee'sunanimous resolution? Where could they havefailed? She'd been certain for years that hergirls had their husbands under incontrovertiblecontrol.She began to wilt when she got more out ofAlec."Well, there's Carruthers to start with, withreal estate the way it is. The tradesmen camenext—Connolly, Ridgeway, and Hobbs. Steinbergcan easily shop somewhere else, and itseems his custom is considerable.""They couldn't!""They already do."It took her quite a minute to get over that.And then"But there are still the councillors, surely,"she said. "Worthington, Horace Haley, JimmyAdams, Ben Hudson, Harry Stuart . . ."What came next did at least come quietly,she had to admit. But never in her life hadshe known Alec to be quite so brutal."Amy," he said, "you've underestimatedhuman nature too much just for once. BertWorthington, remember, is a stockbroker, andhe'd be an idiot to miss the chance of Steinberg'saccount. Horace Haley's a lawyer, soneed I say more? Tim Adams has got threenew cars to be fuelled and serviced, apart fromthe fact that Steinberg changes his modelspretty well every year. Ben Hudson, of course,is doing the renovating.""And Harry Stuart?" she did manage toventure. "What could Harry make out ofsomeone like Steinberg?"But—^"Plenty, I should think," came thecrushing reply. "Steinberg collects rare manuscripts,and he's appointed Stuart his agent.""Then you mean that ""What I mean. Amy, is that it's moneyyou're fighting. And plenty of it. Not onlySteinberg's, but the whole district's as well. Andyou might, if I may say so, have overlookedhuman nature as well—that being what it is."She was crushed and she knew it, but shestill wouldn't give in."Then I for one," she resolved, "will neverhave anything to do with them. I shan't evenspeak to them. Nor will you. Nor will Andy.Don't ever let me catch you, not with eitherof the monsters!"* * *Then the parties began.The Carruthers, of course, were the first toask both Steinberg and Henderson, then theStuarts followed suit. At least it was only cocktails—tillthe Worthingtons had them fordinner and the Haleys did lunch. Of course itwas just a matter of time before Steinberg'sinvitations began to he sent. She tore theirsup immediately and what's more she told Alec.Even if there were forty people for dancingand buffet and champagne the whole night,nothing, but nothing, would induce her to go.The following weekend, there were to beeven more. A garden party round the pool,they all let her know. Such food, catered bythe Waldorf in the city, had never beforereached The Heights. The women were nearlybankrupting their husbands, she'd heard, intrying to outdress each other. Fools, fools thatthey were! For a couple of pansies? . . .And speaking of that, there was talk of somerather weird stag parties at times. Well, they'dexpected it, hadn't they? She'd warned them,hadn't she? The absolutely awful thing aboutit was: it seemed to have drawn a fair numberof participants from the district itself. Peopleno one would have dreamed of. The golf profor one, the Adams boy for another, thathouse-termite sprayer and even the ReverendReggie Baker. She hoped it was only talk. Butone never knew . . .The third invitation was the filthiest of all.10 WESTERLY, No. I, MARCH, 1968
Guest of honour? No less than the Governor!And she'd been trying for years to get intothat circle. The Governor, my God! Didn'teven he care about the company he kept? Or—could that also be possible? One just didn'tknow these days. One just didn't know. Beingmarried didn't mean a fig any more, nor theirposition. In fact, it now seemed that the thingwas not to wonder who was, but to be certainof who wasn't. All that silly secrecy in theMasons . . .Alec would have to be away on some businessappointment. Should she ring him longdistance to consult him about it? After all, theGovernor . . .Then the full horror of her hesitation suddenlyswept over her. What on earth was shethinking of! How low could she stoop?She couldn't believe it, but it was Steinberghimself on the phone."Mrs Johnson," he said, in those nauseatingtones, "I wonder if I have your address correctly?I'm sure I've sent you invitations, butI've had no reply. I was particularly wantingyou this Saturday. I'm sure you and MaisieHarris will have so much in common . . ."Maisie Harris! A snob if there ever was one!But the wife of the Governor. Quite literally.the first lady . . . and Steinberg's emphasis onthe word 'common'?"I'm giving a formal dinner party," Steinbergwas saying, "if you didn't get my httlenote. And I'll be most disappointed if youand Mr Johnson can't come."There, that was the answer."I'm afraid Mr Johnson's away," she replied.There was hardly a pause."Oh what a pity! Must keep the numbers,you know. But I believe your son is home onholidays from college. If you bring him alongwith you, then the invitation still stands . . ."Her Andy! Nineteen, good-looking, and notexactly demented over girls. The sheer evil ofit! Alec away and no doubt Steinberg wellaware of it. That Jew! That—that thing! Heexpected her to eat in his house and take herAndy as well. The devil!—to have found outher one weakness. He must know how muchshe wanted to be one of the first hundred.Perhaps even the upper ten? But what an askingprice! And after this, what other invitationsmight Steinberg contrive?It took her three seconds to make up hermind."This Saturday, you say? I'd be delighted,"she said.WESTERLY, No. 1, MARCH, 1968 11
- Page 1 and 2: westerlyA QUARTERLY REVIEW PRICE 60
- Page 3: westerlya quarterlyreviewEDITORIALC
- Page 6 and 7: Some JOURNALS published byUNIVERSIT
- Page 8 and 9: "WeU, maybe this one is, too.""With
- Page 10: a leer. What really infuriated her
- Page 15 and 16: THE NAVIGATORS(To Albert Tucker)Bei
- Page 17 and 18: Mother of navigators.Beater of men.
- Page 19 and 20: Horizon-haunted men.Looters and Pir
- Page 21 and 22: On the table Taki had left a crumpl
- Page 23 and 24: FEARA thousand, thousand stars and
- Page 25 and 26: Judith ClarkeTHANK YOU MRS. GREENBE
- Page 27 and 28: Oh no, thought Lai Chandra, oh no.
- Page 29: "Nuance," she said- and "poetry,"an
- Page 32 and 33: TO WAKE, TO FLOWfor my wifeFor me t
- Page 34: With apparent indulgence Lola encou
- Page 39 and 40: or another, and some of the paintin
- Page 41: I do not think it has been fulfille
- Page 45 and 46: important thing for a writer who ha
- Page 47 and 48: from which she herself had sprung.
- Page 49 and 50: They are looking for him now in the
- Page 51 and 52: departure from what had come to be
- Page 53: ary degree the atmosphere of a trib
- Page 56 and 57: Blessed is the mother with her chil
- Page 58 and 59: IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOWDON'T DO ITft>
- Page 60 and 61: And yet perhaps both men drew from
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other respects his attitude was mor
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clearing and, as they are usually t
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WHAT IS THECRITIC?The Critic is a c
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JOHN KEATSBronze cast from a life m
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