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Then he came in, and her heart leaped.
He looked worried. "I just saw your note," he said. "Are you all right?"
His first concern was for her. A problem of hers was not a nuisance to him, but an opportunity to help her, and he would seize it eagerly. No man had cared for her this way, not even her father.
"Everything is all right," she said. "Do you know what a gardenia looks like?" She had rehearsed this speech all morning.
"I suppose so. A bit like a rose. Why?"
"In the west wing there's an apartment called the Gardenia Suite. It has a white gardenia painted on the door, and it's full of stored linen. Do you think you could find it?"
"Of course."
"Meet me there tonight, instead of coming to the flat. Usual time."
He stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on. "I will," he said. "But why?"
"I want to tell you something."
"How exciting," he said, but he looked puzzled.
She could guess what was going through his mind. He was electrified by the thought that she might intend a romantic assignation, and at the same time he was telling himself that was a hopeless dream.
"Go to lunch," she said.
He hesitated.
She said: "I'll see you tonight."
"I can't wait," he said, and went out.
She returned to her flat. Maisie, who was not much of a cook, had made her a sandwich with two slabs of bread and a slice of canned ham. Daisy's stomach was full of butterflies; she could not have eaten if it had been peach ice cream.
She lay down to rest. Her thoughts about the night to come were so explicit she felt embarrassed. She had learned a lot about sex from Boy, who clearly had much experience with other women, and she knew a great deal about what men liked. She wanted to do everything with Lloyd, to kiss every part of his body, to do what Boy called soixante-neuf, to swallow his semen. The thoughts were so arousing that it took all her willpower to resist the temptation to pleasure herself.
She had a cup of coffee at five, then washed her hair and took a long bath, shaving her underarms and trimming her pubic hair, which grew too abundantly. She dried herself and rubbed in a light body lotion all over. She perfumed herself and began to get dressed.
She put on new underwear. She tried on all her dresses. She liked the look of one with fine blue-and-white stripes, but all down the front it had little buttons that would take forever to undo, and she knew she would want to undress quickly. I'm thinking like a whore, she realized, and she did not know whether to be amused or ashamed. In the end she decided on a simple peppermint green cashmere knee-length that showed off her shapely legs.
She studied herself in the narrow mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. She looked good.
She perched on the edge of the bed to put her stockings on, and Boy came in.
Daisy felt faint. If she had not been sitting she would have fallen down. She stared at him in disbelief.
"Surprise!" he said with jollity. "I came a day early."
"Yes," she said when at last she was able to speak. "Surprise."
He bent down and kissed her. She had never much liked his tongue in her mouth, because he always tasted of booze and cigars. He did not mind her distaste; in fact he seemed to enjoy forcing the issue. But now, out of guilt, she tongued him back.
"Gosh!" he said when he ran out of breath. "You're frisky."
You have no idea, Daisy thought; at least, I hope you don't.
"The exercise was brought forward by a day," he explained. "No time to warn you."
"So you're here for the night," she said.
