Forever by Margaret Pemberton Read Free Book Online Page A

pale, her eyes blue-rimmed.
    â€˜We can’t talk here,’ she whispered to Eden. ‘My mother won’t leave me alone. She keeps talking and talking about it.’
    â€˜Let’s go down to Ruby Red’s,’ Eden said practically. ‘We can have hamburgers there and talk undisturbed.’
    Mae nodded assent. She, too, wanted to talk about what had happened. She fought back a sudden rush of tears. She’d had a crush on Beau for as long as she could remember, though it had been a secret she had kept to herself. And she had never been obsessed with him as Gussie had.
    She froze. ‘Gussie!’ she said, horrorstruck. ‘What about Gussie?’
    â€˜I tried to call her but that stupid maid of theirs said she wasn’t taking calls.’
    â€˜Then she knows?’
    â€˜She must do. Her father is a friend of Judge Clay’s.’
    â€˜You go on down to Ruby Red’s,’ Eden said decisively. ‘That’s where all the news will be. I’ll go to Gussie. She’ll have taken Beau’s death badly, especially after last night.’
    â€˜Yes.’ Mae looked ghastly. ‘About last night, Eden. You don’t think …’
    â€˜You must come round more often, Eden,’ Mrs Jefferson was saying. ‘We don’t see enough of you. Oh, my, is that the phone again? Please excuse me, girls.’
    â€˜Ruby Red’s in half an hour,’ Eden said, leaving an auguished Mae with tears in her eyes.
    â€˜Eden …’
    The Cadillac door slammed and the engine revved. Mae ran after her but was too late. She halted miserably. She had wanted a quick word with Eden before her courage failed. It would be too late for what she had to say when they were joined by Gussie.
    Miserably she reversed her own car out of the Jefferson garage and drove down past City Park and on to their favourite bar on the edge of the French Quarter. It was decorated in the manner of a 1920 speakeasy and though only early, was already crowded, the air full of one topic and one topic alone. Beauregard Clay’s untimely death.
    Eden motored at her usual high speed back to the Garden District and the Lafayette house that stood way back from the road, screened by palm trees, oaks and lush magnolias.
    â€˜Ahm sorry, Miss Eden, but Miss Gussie told me quite particular …’
    Eden didn’t wait for the little maid to finish. At least in the Lafayette household there was no Mrs Lafayette to contend with and Gussie’s father would be in his high office block negotiating another deal to enhance the Lafayette bank balance. Impatiently she strode past the protesting girl and headed up the wide staircase towards Gussie’s bedroom.
    â€˜It’s Eden,’ she said through the door. ‘Can I come in?’
    There was no reply. Eden tried the door. It was locked. She swore beneath her breath.
    â€˜Please open the door, Gussie. I want to talk to you.’
    â€˜I don’t want to talk to anyone: not ever again,’ a muffled voice said, thick with tears.
    Eden leaned against the door and momentarily closed her eyes. ‘I thought he was wonderful too, Gussie. I know how you must be feeling. Mae is waiting for us down at Ruby Red’s. We can eat there and talk. It will make it easier. You’ll be able to pick up a paper, too. There was nothing in this morning’s Figaro . I guess the news came too late for their first edition, but the States Item will have the full story. Come on, Gussie. Please open the door.’
    There was a wait that seemed interminable to Eden. Then, very slowly, the key turned in the lock. It was left to Eden to open the door. When she did so her eyes widened, and she stopped. Gussie was wearing the rose-pink gown of the previous evening. Her hair still streamed down past her waist, but this time in wild disarray and not glossy sleekness. She stared at Eden with lifeless eyes.
    â€˜He’s dead,’ she whispered