This way we get to see the real you, Bel. Floods grin was slightly malicious. Let me present the Archangel Raphael, he said, turning and beckoning.
Isabel Drakes eyes widened, and she stared directly at Flood as if he had just said something totally unbelievable. Then she turned and looked at Raphael. Very clearly he could see a kind of stunned recognition cross her face. Her eyes seemed to cloud for a moment, and she looked as if she were about to say something. Then she shook her head slightly, and her face became a polite mask.
Mrs. Drake, Raphael said rather formally, inclining his head in a sort of incipient bow.
Please, she replied, just Bel. She smiled up at him. Her eyes were large, and her lips sensual. Theres no point in being formal, since Junior arranged for you to catch me in my work clothes. Is it really Raphael?
Raphael made a face. My mothers idea of a joke. Ill answer to Rafe if itd make you more comfortable.
God no, she said. I love it. Raphaelits so musical. She switched the paintbrushes and offered her hand. Raphael took it.
Oh dear, she said. The paint. I completely forgot.
Raphael looked at his hand and laughed at the smudges on his palm.
Its only watercolor, but I am sorry. Its nothing.
Junior, she said sharply, I positively hate you for this.
Flood, who had been watching the two of them intently, laughed sardonically.
Come and see my little house, she invited them. Then Ill get cleaned up and change.
The interior of the chalet smelled faintly of the womans perfume. The walls of the living room were paneled with walnut, and there were dark, open beams at ceiling height, forming a heavy latticework overhead above which open space soared to the peaked roof. The furniture was of dark, waxed wood and leather, very masculine, which somehow seemed to accentuate Mrs. Drakes femininity. The floor was also dark, waxed wood, and fur throw rugs lay here and there, highlighting major points in the room. The morning sun streamed through a window high in the wall above the beams, catching a heavy crystal service on a buffet in the dining area beyond the couch. The gleaming cut glass filled the room with a golden light that seemed somehow artificial, an unreal glow that left Raphael bemused, almost powerless. Here and there on the dark walls muted watercolors added that touch of something indefinable that spoke of class.
Pretty fancy, Bel. Flood looked around approvingly.
Its comfortable. She shrugged. The kitchens through here. She led them into a cheery kitchen with a round table near the broad window that faced a wooden deck that overlooked the sparkling waters of the lake. An easel was set up on the deck with a partially finished watercolor resting on it.
Raphael looked out at the painting and recognized its similarity to the ones hanging in the living room. You do your own, I see, he said, pointing.
It passes the time. She said it deprecatingly, but he could see that she was rather proud of her efforts.
Say, Flood said, stepping out onto the deck, thats really pretty good, Bel. When did you get into this? I thought dance was your thing.
Raphael and Isabel went out onto the deck and stood looking at the watercolor. She laughed, her voice rich. That was a long time ago, Junior. I found out that Im really too lazy for all the practice, and Im getting a little hippy for it. Male dancers are quite small, and it got to be embarrassing the way their eyes bulged during the lifts. She smiled at Raphael. Good grief, Raphael, she said, her eyes widening, what on earth did you do to your arm? She pointed at the large, dark bruise on his upper bicep, a bruise exposed by his short-sleeved shirt.
The Angel here is our star athlete, Flood told her. Yesterday afternoon he single-handedly destroyed an opposing football team.
Really? She sounded interested.
Hes exaggerating. Raphael was slightly embarrassed. There were ten other people out there, too. I just got lucky a few times.
That looks dreadfully sore. She touched the bruise lightly.
You should see his chest and stomach. Flood shuddered. Hes a major disaster area.
Theyll fade. Raphael tried to shrug it off. I heal fairly fast. He looked out over the lake.
Come along now, you two, Isabel ordered. Ill show you where the bar is, and then I have to get cleaned up and change. She led them back through the kitchen into the dining room. She pointed out the small portable bar to Flood and then went upstairs. A few minutes later they heard a shower start running.
Well, Flood said, busily at work with the shaker, what do you think of our Bel?
Shes a lady, Raphael said simply.
Flood laughed. Youre naive, Raphael. Bel has breeding; shes got class; shes got exquisite manners and taste; but shes not a ladyas Im sure youll soon discover.
Whats that supposed to mean? Raphael asked, a little irritated by Floods flippancy.
Youll find out. Flood began to rattle the shaker.
Isnt it a little early for that? Raphael asked, sitting carefully in one of the large chairs in front of the fireplace in the living room.
Never too early. Floods tone was blithe. Itll anesthetize all your aches and pains. Youre gimping around like an arthritic camel. He came into the living room, handed Raphael a glass, and then sprawled on the leather couch.
Nice house, Raphael noted, looking around, but isnt it sort ofwellmasculine?
Thats Bel for you. Flood laughed. Its all part of her web. Bels not like other womenthats why I like her so much. Shes very predatory, and she usually gets exactly what she wants.
Youre a snide bastard, Flood.
Bight on. Flood laughed easily. Its part of my charm.
A half hour later Isabel came back down in a flowered print dress that was sleeveless and cut quite low in front. Raphael found that he had difficulty keeping his eyes where they belonged. The woman was full-figured, and her arms plumply rounded. There was about her a kind of ripeness, an opulence that the firm-figured but angular girls of his own age lacked. Her every move seemed somehow suggestive, and Raphael was troubled by his reactions to her.
They passed the afternoon quietly. They had lunch and a few more drinks afterward. Isabel and Raphael talked at some length about nothing in particular while Flood sat back watching, his hard, bright eyes moving from one to the other and an indecipherable expression on his face.
In Raphaels private place he told himself that he really had no business being there. Bel and Flood were aliens to himbright, beautiful, and totally meaningless. With a kind of startled perception he saw that sophisticated people are sophisticated for that very reason. Meaningless people have to be sophisticated, because they have nothing else.
When it grew dark, they changed clothes and went over to a supper club in Oswego. Raphael rode with Isabel in her sedan, and Flood followed in his Triumph.
At dinner they laughed a great deal, and Raphael could see others in the restaurant glancing at them with eyebrows raised speculatively. Isabel was wearing a low-cut black cocktail dress that set off the satiny white sheen of her skin, and her hair, dark as night, was caught in a loose roll at the back of her neck. As Raphael continued to order more drinks he saw that there was about her an air of enormous sophistication that made him feel very proud just to be seen with her.