Read Online Small g by Patricia Highsmith - Free Book Online Page B

at that moment he looked down at the table and grimaced. Then she saw that his eyes were wet. He wiped them quickly with the back of one hand. His other hand held Lulu’s lead.
    “G’night, Rickie. Many, many thanks,” said Evelyn, departing with the white cylinder under her arm. “Don’t get up.”
    But Rickie, somewhat wobbly, was on his feet.
    In the next minutes, Rickie settled the bill with Andreas, who gave Rickie change, no doubt exact, as Andreas was honest. Just as Andreas walked away toward the inside room, Luisa saw Willi standing in the doorway, looking straight at her with the gray-eyed, fixed but neutral gaze with which he looked at everything. He was going to report her presence here to Renate, Luisa supposed.
    Ernst was the only one left at the table besides Luisa and Rickie. “Thank you, Rickie,” he said. “Want me to walk you home?”
    “I am seeing this young lady to her home,” said Rickie.
    Luisa took an uneasy gulp of her Coke. “But I live so near. You don’t have to see me home, Rickie.” Glancing, Luisa saw that Willi had disappeared as if he had been a bad dream. She stood up.
    So did Rickie and Ernst. The three went through the garden to the gate, the way Luisa had come. The two men took her gently by an elbow, one on either side.
    “Now this is an escort!” said Luisa, amused and anxious too.
    “And an honor. An honor guard!” said Ernst.
    Three or four streets away, St. Jakob’s Church tolled once for half past ten.
    “Isn’t she a darling?” asked Rickie.
    Ernst said, “What a shame we’re not the marrying type. We’re what the English call ‘confirmed bachelors.’ Ha-ha! It means something like the Small g, only bigger!”
    Somehow it was funny, and harmless. Luisa laughed, not knowing why. They were approaching the whitish house where she lived. Formerly this had been a capacious private dwelling, big enough for a growing family and a couple of live-in servants who would have had to climb to the little rooms at the top, with their small peaked windows in the roof, to sleep. The window below the servants’-rooms level was lighted. This was the sitting room, where the TV set was.
    “Thank you—both. Thank you, Rickie—for the wonderful evening.” Luisa almost whispered.
    “Soon again, I hope,” said Rickie. “Phone me, any time.”
    “G’night, Luisa.”
    Luisa opened the front door with her key, and waved to the two watching her. Then she climbed the stairs, second key at the ready.
    As she had expected, Renate had slid the inside bolt. Luisa knocked gently.
    But nothing came, no sound. Luisa’s thoughts jumped: Renate was going to make her wait half an hour, longer, maybe. Keep calm, Luisa told herself. She had found calmness a good defense against Renate, who preferred to see her hurt.
    She knocked again. Luisa was sure Renate was not far away, probably standing in the hall, listening to her difficulties. She rang the bell briefly, and hearing no response, tried her key again, hoping. The bolt still held.
    Luisa turned to the banistered stairs with a crazy thought of dashing after Rickie and Ernst. Nothing more certain than that Rickie would let her sleep on his sofa tonight. Angry now, Luisa tried a trick: she went somewhat noisily down the stairs, halfway down the next flight, and waited.
    And waited. After two minutes, she decided to creep back up. Again she tried the key, and then knocked. And waited.
    At last, the bump and scrape, a bit slower than usual, which heralded Renate’s approach. Luisa straightened, taut; why should she say she was “sorry,” when Renate hadn’t needed to double-lock?
    “So,” said Renate, in nightdress and dressing gown. “A little late tonight.”
    “Thank you,” said Luisa, coming in. “I don’t know why you bolted it. I wasn’t going to be out long.”
    “Long enough! Woke me up!” Renate sniffed. “Where were you?”
    They were standing in the hall. Renate had turned off the sitting room light, where she