The Blunderer

The Blunderer Read Online Free PDF

Book: The Blunderer Read Online Free PDF
Author: Patricia Highsmith
the sofa. Walter relaxed his expression at once. He wondered if Mrs. Philpott understood? Her face looked very old and sagacious. Practically everyone else at the party understood, everyone who’d ever spent an evening with him and Clara.
    â€œWalter, old man, do you think I can get a refill?”
    Walter smiled at the familiar, rubbery face of Dick Jensen, and felt like putting an arm around him. “You sure can, brother. I want one, too. Let’s go in the kitchen.”
    Claudia was busy with the cold roast beef. Walter told her it was too early to start serving, and that she’d better see who needed another drink.
    â€œMrs. Stackhouse told me to bring the food on now, Mr. Stackhouse,” Claudia said with a neutral resignation.
    â€œThere you are,” Dick said. “Overruled by the Court.”
    Walter let it go. Even Dick knew that Clara meant to prevent anybody’s getting drunk tonight by serving the buffet at an early hour. Walter made Dick a whopping drink and a generous one for himself. “Where’s Polly?” Walter asked.
    â€œOut on the terrace, I think.”
    Walter made a drink for Polly, in case she didn’t have one, and went out on the terrace. Polly was leaning against the terrace rail, watching the TV, but she smiled and beckoned to Walter when she saw him. Polly was not beautiful. Her hips spread, and she did her hair in a dull brown bun at the back of her neck, but she had the most pleasant personality in the world. For Walter simply to be near her for a few moments satisfied a deep craving, like the craving he felt sometimes to lie naked in the sun.
    â€œHow does it feel to be married to a real estate tycoon?” Polly asked with her big toothy grin.
    â€œGreat! Now I haven’t a financial worry in the world. I’m thinking of retiring soon.” Walter had just begun to notice his drinks. He felt a little warm in the face.
    Dick came up and took his wife’s arm. “Sorry, I have to borrow this. I want her to meet Pete.”
    â€œWhy can’t Pete come out here?” Walter asked.
    â€œHe’s deep in some discussion in there.” Dick took Polly off.
    Walter picked up the extra highball that Polly hadn’t wanted, and looked around for someone to offer it to. His eyes stopped on a girl who was looking at him from the far corner of the terrace. It was Pete’s girl, all by herself. Walter went over to her.
    â€œYou don’t have a drink,” he said. He couldn’t think of her name.
    â€œI’ve had one, thanks. I just came out to enjoy your country air.”
    â€œWell, you’d better have another!” He handed it to her and she accepted it. “Are you from New York?” he asked.
    â€œI live there. Just now I’m looking for a job there—or anywhere.” Her eyes looked up at him directly, warm and friendly. “I’m a musician. I teach music.”
    â€œWhat do you play?”
    â€œThe violin. Piano, too, but I’m more interested in the violin. I teach music to children. Music appreciation.”
    â€œMusic to children!” The idea of teaching music to children seemed suddenly enchanting to Walter. He wanted to say: what a shame we haven’t any children for you to teach music to.
    â€œI’m looking for a job in a public school, but it’s tough without a lot of degrees and qualifications. I’m just about to try some private schools.”
    â€œI hope you have luck,” Walter said. The girl looked about the same age as Peter. There was a simplicity about her, a peasantry robustness that Walter supposed suited Peter to a T She was suntanned and there was a faint highlight down her nose. When she smiled, her teeth looked very white. “Have you known Pete long?”
    â€œJust a few months. Just after he started working for you. He’s very happy there.”
    â€œWe like him, too.”
    â€œHe started talking to me on the bus one
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