“You don't have to do that.”
“It's the least I can do,” he said. “Do you not think I owe you a favor, Molly? Thanks to you I'm living the life of Riley.” He took my hand in his.
“You don't think your lady love will object?” I asked.
He laughed merrily. “I've told her about you and she knows you're nothing more than a big sister to me. In fact, she's dying to meet you sometime. Come on, I know a good place where they serve the best boiled beef and cabbage you can imagine. Just like home.”
The food was hot and filling, I'll say that for it, but my own tastes had broadened a little, now that I knew there was more than boiled beef and cabbage in the world. We had a grand old talk, though, and I found I could relax enough to stop glancing out of the window every few seconds. And when Michael delivered me home, there was no dark shadow in sight lurking behind us.
Twenty–Three
By the time I reached Patchin Place safely, I had decided not to tell Gus or Sid about the incident in the theater. They pounced on me the moment I came in through the front door, peppering me with questions about the play. I was in the middle of telling them when Ryan himself arrived, still in a bad mood and demanding a whole pot of Turkish coffee to calm his nerves.
“Coffee is a stimulant, my sweet,” Gus told him as Sid went to make it.
“Then your divine presence will calm me down,” Ryan said, smiling from her face to mine. “Who could fail to feel serene among such beauty?”
“Irish blarney,” Gus muttered to me. “He's full of it, isn't he. Tell him how bad his play was—that will shut him up.”
Ryan's gaze swung to me. “You came to the theater today? You saw the play?” I nodded.
“Where were you? Why didn't you come to find me?” “You were otherwise occupied, yelling at an actress named Ethel for not knowing her lines.”
“Stupid cow,” Ryan exclaimed. “She has precisely five lines in that scene. Is it too much to ask that she learn them? Does she expect to walk out in front of an audience in a few days and ad-lib?” He sank onto the wicker chaise longue. It was a warm night and we were still sitting out in the garden. “So was the play really terrible? Tell me the truth—I'm man enough to bear it.”
“It was brilliant, Ryan. Funny, yet moving at the same time. And very wicked—all those gibes at the American upper-class society women.”
A smile lit up his face. “Yes, it was rather naughty of me, wasn't it. But somehow I couldn't help myself. The words just spilled out and there they were on the page. But you give me hope, dearest Molly. I just pray that the first-night critics are equally perceptive and kind.”
When Ryan left, well after midnight, I went to bed in a much calmer mood. How could I have reacted so hysterically in the theater? Anyone would think I was turning into the kind of frail and sensitive young thing who got the vapors at the slightest provocation. Thank heavens I hadn't told Gus and Sid about my encounter with the shadowy stranger. They would have told Ryan and all had a good laugh at my expense. I was almost tempted to laugh at myself.
And yet my sixth sense hadn't let me down before. I had sensed a presence in that theater and felt myself to be in danger. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to analyze it calmly. Who could have known that I would be alone in a darkened theater? Apart from Sid and Gus, nobody knew I had planned to watch the rehearsal. Even Ryan hadn't known I was there. But any one of the cast or crew could have known—the girl with the paint pot could have told them. But why would any of them have wished me harm? They didn't know me from Adam. So who could possibly wish me harm? The only person I could come up with was the man who killed Paddy. But why wait until now? Why risk going into a theater? I had walked alone through the Village on several occasions. I had ridden the El. I had slept with my bedroom window open.
I got up from my bed and hastily closed it. The annoying thing was that I should no longer feel safe when I went out alone. It would only be a matter of time before my stalker found out where I lived, if he didn't know already. I should pluck up courage to go back to that theater again, and this time get a good look at the cast and crew. Only this time I'd make sure I stayed close to Ryan.