The Other Side of Midnight

Washington, D.C., was the most exciting city that Catherine Alexander had ever seen. She had always thought of Chicago as the heartland, but Washington was a revelation. Here was the real core of America, the pulsating centre of power. At first, Catherine had been bewildered by the variety of uniforms that filled the streets: Army, Navy Air Corps, Marines. For the first time Catherine began to feel the grim possibility of war as something real.

In Washington the physical presence of war was everywhere. This was the city where war, if it came, would begin. Here it would be declared and mobilized and masterminded. This was the city that held in its hand the fate of the world. And she, Catherine Alexander, was going to be a part of it.

She had moved in with Susie Roberts, who was living in a bright and cheery fourth floor walk-up apartment with a fair-sized living room, two small adjoining bedrooms, a tiny bathroom and a kitchenette built for a midget. Susie had seemed glad to see her. Her first words were:

‘Hurry and unpack and get your best dress steamed out. You have a dinner date tonight.’

Catherine blinked. ‘What took you so long?’

‘Cathy, in Washington, it’s the girls who have the little black books. This town is so full of lonely men, it’s pitiful.’

They had dinner that first evening at the Willard Hotel. Susie’s date was a congressman from Indiana and Catherine’s date was a lobbyist from Oregon, and both men were in town without their wives. After dinner they went dancing at the Washington Country Club. Catherine had hoped that the lobbyist might be able to give her a job. Instead she got the offer of a car and her own apartment, which she declined with thanks.

Susie brought the congressman back to the apartment, and Catherine went to bed. A short time later she heard them go into Susie’s bedroom, and the bedsprings began to creak. Catherine pulled a pillow over her head to drown out the sound, but it was impossible. She visualized Susie in bed with her date making wild, passionate love. In the morning when Catherine got up for breakfast, Susie was already up, looking bright and cheerful, ready to go to work. Catherine searched for telltale wrinkles and other signs of dissipation on Susie, but there were none. On the contrary she looked radiant, her skin absolutely flawless. My God, Catherine thought, she’s a female Dorian Grey. One day she’s going to come in looking great, and I’ll look a hundred and ten years old.

A few days later at breakfast Susie said, ‘Hey, I heard about a job opening that might interest you. One of the girls at the party last night said she’s quitting to go back to Texas. God knows why anyone who ever got away from Texas would want to go back there. I remember I was in Amarillo a few years ago and …’

‘Where does she work?’ Catherine interrupted.

‘Who?’

‘The girl,’ Catherine said patiently.

‘Oh. She works for Bill Fraser. He’s in charge of public relations for the State Department. Newsweek did a cover story on him last month. It’s supposed to be a cushy job. I just heard about it last night, so if you get over there now, you should beat all the other girls to it.’

‘Thanks,’ Catherine said gratefully. ‘William Fraser, here I come.’

Twenty minutes later Catherine was on her way to the State Department. When she arrived, the guard told her where Fraser’s office was and she took the elevator upstairs. Public Relations. It sounded exactly like the sort of job she was looking for.