“Does this mean you’re all done with that blonde?” Sally-Anne asked innocently. “She was a knockout. What was her name again? You know who I’m talking about . . . Zimmer’s daughter?”
“Jennifer and I decided to take some time apart to see where we really stand going forward,” Edward replied with utmost gravity and sincerity. “Everything was moving a bit too fast.”
“What a pity. That must have come as such a disappointment to our poor mother. Jennifer was quite rich, after all.”
“That’s quite enough, Sally-Anne. No need to be rude.”
Edward signaled for the bill and quickly scrawled his signature, charging the meal to the family account, before rising to his feet.
“Tomorrow night, seven o’clock sharp. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby by the ticket booth. Don’t forget: I’m counting on you,” he told May, then bowed once more to kiss her hand.
Edward then turned and gave his sister a cold, obligatory peck on the cheek. As soon as he walked out, Sally-Anne waved the waiter over and ordered two cognacs.
“Don’t even think about going!” she warned May, swirling the amber liquid around in her glass.
May sighed. “Did it even occur to you how many years of scraping and saving it would take for me to get to see Pinter onstage? I can’t even afford the nosebleeds.”
“I’m telling you: it’s a rotten idea. Even the name of the play is no mistake, I guarantee.”
“You don’t have to be so dramatic about it. It’s one night.”
“Don’t underestimate my brother. He’ll play you. It’s his very favorite pastime, and he’s a master at it. He takes down way bigger game without breaking a sweat, so if you want to keep a shred of your dignity, stay the hell away from him.”
“Dignity? Who said anything about dignity?” May replied, giving Sally-Anne a nice little elbow to the ribs.
The next day, May luxuriated in the bath before her date with Edward. Sally-Anne entered and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, a cigarette between her lips. She stared wordlessly at May, and the silence felt interminable.
“Don’t start with the looks again!” May said. “I’ll come home right after the curtain call. I promise.”
“We’ll see about that. But you can’t say I didn’t warn you. Just don’t forget: not a word to Edward about the paper.”
“Oh, I know. My shin got that memo yesterday. What exactly went down between you two? You never talk about him. I almost forgot you even had a brother. I don’t understand why you—”
“Because they’re all complete frauds, every last one of them. The glory of the Stanfields . . . is nothing but a tall tale. It’s all smoke and mirrors. My mother is like a queen reigning over an empire of lies, with my father as her spineless stooge.”
“Don’t you think that’s going a little overboard? Your dad is a war hero.”
“I don’t remember ever telling you that.”
“You didn’t. Someone else did.”
“Who?”
“I heard it around. People talk.” May hesitated a moment, then sighed and gave in. “Fine. You really want to know? After we . . . became intimate, I did some research on you here and there. Don’t be mad. It is our job, after all! Comes with the territory, right? You could even think of it as a compliment; it shows just how interested I was in you. In any event, I never heard one bad thing about your parents, least of all your father. The man is widely admired. He’s a perfect success story.”
“He’s not who you think he is. And that success was my mother’s, not his. She paid dearly for it, more than you could know.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sorry, darlin’. We may be ‘intimate,’ but we’re not quite there yet,” said Sally-Anne, closing the lid on the conversation.
May sat up in the bathtub and took Sally-Anne’s hand, gradually guiding it to her bare breasts. She titled her head upwards and kissed her passionately.
“You’re trying to tell me that’s not intimate enough for you?”
But Sally-Anne pushed her away softly. “Brother and sister in the same night? Wouldn’t that be a little uncouth, my sweet May?”
With that, Sally-Anne walked out of the bathroom, grabbed her jacket, and left the loft.
Sally-Anne, May would learn, had been right about everything.
It was an exquisite night, in which everything unfolded magically. The play exceeded all expectations: an astounding tour de force with remarkable performances. Far from a vaudeville piece charting the escapades of a couple in an extramarital affair, the play revolved around the importance of what was left unsaid. The subject matter hit rather close to home for May, who couldn’t help but think of the double life she had been leading for the past few months. In their love triangle, the secret lover was clearly Keith. In that case, who exactly was the betrayed, Sally-Anne or May?