I Could Go on Singing (22 page)

“And you think I can?”

“I do hope you can, sir. I … I am fond of Jenny. She is such a warm person. Perhaps father can see just one side of it.” His mouth twisted for a moment. “I do not see how a person like Jenny could have … given me away. Someone … has to help me understand that. You see, sir, Janet was very good to me. But she didn’t love me. Not really. Father says that was his fault, for putting her in such an impossible situation. She would say she loved me, but she didn’t. But he does, you know. Father says the … that life is a difficult thing and people too often end up hurting each other. Jenny has sad eyes. I thought … you might explain a bit of it, if you wouldn’t mind too much.”

The boy, behind all his poise and reserve, was pleading, Jason knew. There was rawness of new wounds there, a tremor in the careful young voice.

Jason said slowly, “I think you are clever, Matthew. I think that if I try to patronize you, you’ll sense it. I think I can tell you how it was, for Jenny. It may sound ugly to you and it may be difficult to understand. I had to explain all this just the other day. To Miss Marney. She knew about it, but even after two and a half years with Jenny, she couldn’t quite understand it.”

“Does she now?”

“I think so. I hope so.”

He told the boy about it, explaining Jenny’s vulnerability and the pressures upon her, and how it must have been for
her. At one point he hesitated, and then told of the other pressure on her, to have the pregnancy terminated, and how she refused. When he had finished, the boy was silent and thoughtful for several minutes.

“Thank you, Mr. Brown. Father sees it his way—as if she were too busy and ambitious to bother with a child. And I expect Jenny would see it her way—as a sort of conspiracy against her. But the truth is somewhat in between.”

“It seems to be one of the characteristics of truth, Matthew. It is always somewhere in between.”

The boy sighed. “Father explained why he brought her to see me. She was very determined. He wanted to prevent it. He wanted to keep me from being hurt in any way. He thought she might find me on her own, so it seemed best to bring her to the school, so that he could control the situation. But it turned out he couldn’t. And I suppose that was partially my fault.”

“What is the situation now?”

Matthew frowned. “Father and I have a good relationship, I think. He works very hard. I trust him and respect him. I believe we … are proud of each other. The point at issue is Paris. He said that as long as he had spoken to me as man to man, we should make the decision on the same basis.” The boy smiled in a rueful way. “It would be easier if he were to give me direct orders, I expect. And then he … broke down a bit. He pleaded with me not to go with Jenny to Paris. He said he was afraid he would lose me. I asked him what was wrong with a week in Paris. He said that at first Jenny wanted to see me for an hour, but it became a day and then three days and then a week. He said she would not stop until she had taken me away from … everything I am used to. He sounded as if he hates her. It was distressing.”

“I don’t think he hates her. He may be angry at her, but I don’t think it’s hate. Jenny is not the sort of human being you can hate. She’s reckless, but she doesn’t have any real malice in her.”

“He asked me to think about it very very carefully before deciding. I sat in my room, with the music, for quite a long time, until it was very late. And then I went to him and told him that if he did not want me to go, I wouldn’t go. He asked if I should want him to tell Jenny. I said I would do it. I said I did want to see her again to thank her for everything, and I would tell her.”

It took Jason several moments to interpret the way the boy was looking at him. He told himself his emotional reflexes were slowing down. He said, slowly and carefully, “I know Jenny very well. I think I know the sort of man your father is. And now I know you better than I did, Matthew. I think this is the very best of all possible solutions, to have you decide of your own free will to stay here. And it is the one thing Jenny would not and cannot fight.”

“But it will hurt her.”

“Yes, of course,” Jason said. “But it is the kind of hurt she can understand. And … if need be, I can help her understand it.”

“One thinks about … the glamor of another kind of life.”

“There’s one thing you may not understand.”

“Sir?”

“If it became known that Jenny Bowman is your mother—and the more you are with her the more likely it is some gossip columnist will uncover it—there would be a scandal that would hurt your father’s career and very probably smash Jenny’s.”

Suddenly the boy looked much younger. “My word! Father said nothing about that.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to use that kind of influence.”

“But doesn’t Jenny understand that risk, sir?”

“She is not a calculating woman. She is guided by her heart. I told you before, she is a reckless woman and she has found the son she lost and she loves him and that is all that concerns her.”

“But I should not let her hurt herself or hurt father.”

“At the same time, Matthew, she should know that your decision was not made on that basis. She wouldn’t listen to that kind of reasoning.”

“I know.”

“That kind of scandal might make life a little uncomfortable for you too.”

The boy shrugged. “That wouldn’t matter.”

“It might.”

“A little, perhaps. I mean one doesn’t wish to be conspicuous. But they would be losing things they have worked for years to obtain.”

Jason took a deep breath and said, “Jenny might bring suit to regain custody of you on a technicality, a little flaw in the adoption procedures.”

The boy looked horrified. “But she can’t do that!”

“What if you wanted to be with her and your father refused?”

“But it isn’t that way at all!”

“Jenny believes it’s that way.”

“There’d be no way of avoiding the scandal then, would there, sir?”

“None.”

“Then she must not do it.”

“There’s only one person in the world who can stop her.”

Suddenly the boy’s eyes, so like Jenny’s, filled with tears. “She is a dear woman, and I do wish things might have been different. For everyone. But I shall stop her. Sir, I am very grateful to you for talking to me.”

“I’m glad you gave me the chance.”

“I expect she’s up by now. I should phone her or go there.”

“It might be better if you arranged to meet somewhere.”

“Sir?”

“Some people have become curious about why she’s seeing so much of you.”

The boy’s smile was crooked. “It was making me curious too. I understand. May I be excused now, sir?”

“Of course.”

The boy started to leave, then turned back with a rather wistful expression. “In spite of all, it’s going to be fearfully hard not to tell people who I am. You see, it is nothing I could be ashamed of.”

“Tell her that, too.”

“Yes, I guess she might like that.”

Jason had no opportunity to report to Lois until early afternoon. And then he took her into the park. They sat on a low stone wall in the sunshine. It was the warmest day they’d had. The air was soft and ripe with the scents of springtime. She listened intently as he told her about the boy. She shook her head slowly, smiling, her eyes shiny with emotion. “Is it good or bad to be that mature that young, Jason?”

“Good, in this case. If he wasn’t, he’d be a pawn. They’d pull him and haul him this way and that. He’s dealt himself into the game.”

“At thirteen I wasn’t anything at all. A dumb dreamy kid. It’s all misty back there. I can’t remember anything with any clarity.”

“I can remember I’d learned to throw a curve.”

“That’s really a marvelous boy. Jenny’s warmth and his father’s stability and wisdom. I wonder what he’ll become. Something special, I bet.”

“He’s something pretty special right now and they both know it.”

She looked at him with a strange smile. “But the people who loved me probably looked at me when I was thirteen and thought I was special.”

“You are.”

“Please, Jason. I wasn’t fishing.”

“I know. You talk about valuing yourself, but you don’t.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Shouldn’t there be a little more than that, Lois?”

He felt the sun on his face as he looked at her. The gray eyes met his and slid away. Her mouth looked soft and pensive. “I did expect more. That’s the standard illusion, isn’t it? But you settle for what you get.”

“You mean you pick up your toys and go home?”

“No. Not like that. I’m not like that. I just became a realist.”

He stared at her. “I hope it’s a great comfort to you.”

She stood up. “Let’s not start spoiling things again. Let’s walk. And then I have to get back.”

He walked beside her in a long silence, all too aware of her strength and beauty, her shining hair, the litheness of her stride. She was behind glass. The stopper was firmly hammered into place. She was beyond reach.

When they returned to the hotel, Ida said, “She went dusting out of here like a queen bee. A tea date with her son, yet. You could hook her smile over her ears. George is wandering around looking at the windows, picking the best one to jump through.”

At six o’clock while Jason was in Lois’s room helping her clip the local reviews and interviews, George came walking in with a drink in his hand. “Same old routine,” he said helplessly. “Off with the kid someplace.”

Jason stared at him, and he felt a little twinge of alarm. “I don’t think so, George.”

“You don’t think what?”

“I don’t think she’s with Matthew.”

George stared at him. “Why should there be any change? It’s the same old suspense story. Will she make the theater or won’t she? Why should anything be any different?”

“The boy was going to tell her he doesn’t want to go to Paris.”

“Doesn’t want to go?”

“The boy wants things the way they were before she showed up,” Jason said.

“How do you know that?”

“Matt told him,” Lois said.

George looked at both of them, scowling. “And you two clowns didn’t think I should know about that?”

“George,” Lois said, “we were only …”

George Kogan smacked himself in the forehead. “So she went off and the kid hit her with that. You hit Jenny with something like that, you think she’d come crawling on back here for a good cry? You think that’s the way she reacts?”

“It’s something she has to work out for …”

“Jase, you are a meat-head.”

Jason went to the phone. “Let me see what I can find out.”

He called David Donne’s number. A woman answered. He asked to speak to Matthew Donne. The boy came on the line and when Jason identified himself, the boy said, “What is your number there, sir. I would like to call you back from another phone.”

It was five minutes before he called back. Jason asked the boy how it had gone.

“Not very well, sir. Not well at all. As a matter of fact, I botched it.”

“How?”

“We met at the tea house at the Serpentine. It was most awkward at first. It was the first time I’d been with her since … I found out. It was difficult to talk about anything except … the things people generally say to one another. At last she asked me about Paris. I tried to tell her. Honestly I did. But I got as far as telling her that father was leaving it up to me … and she suddenly assumed that I could not possibly say anything but yes. She was so very happy, sir. She said the tickets had been bought and the hotel reservation made for me. She said she had a lot of surprises all planned. She was so very happy about it, sir.”

“I understand.”

“She thought it all settled. Then we went for a walk along the Serpentine, along the tow path. She said … we might go to see Venice too. I did not want to talk about that sort of thing. I tried to talk about ordinary things. I guess I was
very upset. Finally she began to see that I was troubled. We sat on a bench to talk.”

“Did you tell her then?”

“I tried to. I honestly tried to, sir, but she seemed to sense what I was going to say, and she begged me to say I would go to Paris with her. She begged me to say it. She asked me please not to leave her now. She said she needed me. Sir?”

“Yes, Matt.”

“I said I would go with her. She did not leave me anything else to say. But I was terribly upset, really. I guess she could see how upset I was. I imagine … she realized I did not want to go with her. There’s no other answer for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Three of my friends from school appeared. Collings, Gregson and Smith Minor. They’d hired two boats from Lansbury Lido and wanted a rowing contest. They’d thought me stuck down in Canterbury. Jenny urged me to go along with them. She said she’d watch. You see, sir, she’d already told me we could have all of the afternoon together, that she was quite free. But she looked at me strangely when I set off in the boat. Most strangely. I thought she would wait. But when we were out into the lake, I looked back and she was walking slowly up the hill. When the race was ended I waited there for her for quite a long time, but she did not come back. I did it very badly. How is she, sir?”

“She’s all right, Matt. Don’t worry about her.”

“She looked at me with such an odd expression. So … empty.”

“I think she understands what you wanted to tell her, and why you couldn’t.”

“I’m going back to Canterbury this evening, sir. I would like to write her a nice letter of thanks. Do you think that would be all right?”

“I think she would treasure it, Matt.”

After he hung up, he told George and Lois the substance of the conversation. George shoved his fists into his hip pockets and went and stared out the window at the dark city. “It’s a big town,” he said heavily. “Where do we look first? Maybe we look in that big gray river.”

“She wouldn’t do that to the boy,” Lois said sharply.

“There are other ways to drown something,” Jason said.

“What about the performance?” George asked. “Should I start canceling?”

“Do you think you should?” Lois asked.

George turned from the window. His face looked old. “I think I better wait. I better wait and hope and pray. Because you know what? It’s the best chance she has. It’s like the only chance she has.”