I put on my robe and knotted the cord. ‘Let’s have some more coffee.’
We sat at the kitchen counter and drank Sanka in silence. Finally I said: ‘There’s got to be a way we can work this out. I
respect how you feel, but please try and understand my difficulty. I’m not used to children. I’m not even used to living with
anyone. I’d like to be able to tell you I could handle the lot of you with one hand tied behind my back, but if I told you
that I’d be a liar. I’ve got to take this a step at a time.’
‘But time is the one thing we don’t have!’
‘Yes, but if we can keep on seeing each other … I accept that you can’t cut off your life in order to live with me full-time
in London, but—’
‘The trouble is,’ she interrupted, ‘that an intercontinental love affair with all the jet-set trimmings would suit you right
down to the ground. You’re used to long periods of celibacy punctuated by bursts of high-powered activity, and if I consented
to adopt that pattern with you, why should you ever settle for anything different?’
‘When I return to New York—’
‘But that’s four years away! I’m sorry, you may be able to live that kind of life for four years, but I couldn’t. I’d crack
up. I couldn’t stand all the strain and the tension and the awful partings and the frustration of you never being around when
I most wanted you – God, can’t you see how hopeless it would be? Anyway, I have enough strain in my private life, and I’m
just not equipped to take on any more.’
There was a silence. We finished our coffee. She stubbed out her cigarette.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘so much for the insoluble future. And we’ve certainly had more than enough tonight of the intolerable past.
That leaves the present. It’s not much, but it seems to be all we’ve got.’
‘I can’t accept that.’
‘Oh Scott, neither can I …’
She was in my arms. My robe parted. She shoved aside her clothes. Within ten seconds we were in bed together, and then time
ceased to matter at last as the night exploded brilliantly before our eyes.
[6]
She called me at nine the next evening when I was dictating the last memo into the machine. My head was aching and the light
from the desk lamp hurt my eyes. The jangling of the call coming through on my outside line was so loud I winced.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Badly. Sorry I haven’t called.’
‘Do you want to come to my place when you’re finished?’
‘You know I do. But I’m very tired. I’ll be poor company.’
‘Have you eaten anything today?’
‘No. Yes, wait a minute, I had half a hot dog at my desk but I never got the chance to finish it. There’s so much to do to
clear the way for my departure.’
‘Get out of that horrible place and come here right away.’
I left.
When I arrived at her apartment she was wearing a white quilted robe and no make-up and her bright hair was smooth and soft
beneath my fingers.
‘I’ve got some barbecued chicken and French fries from the takeout joint around the corner,’ she said, ‘and a six-pack of
Coke. I thought we needed a contrast to the Four Seasons.’
We ate all the chicken and all the French fries and drank all the Coke.
‘Feeling better?’
‘Like a new person.’
We went to bed.
‘Got anything else to drink?’ I said later.
‘I’ve got some quinine water, the stuff the British call tonic and
drink with gin. If you’re going to London you’d better practise drinking it.’
Without a word I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. The quinine water was on the bottom shelf in the refrigerator door.
‘I’ll cut you a slice of lemon to go with it,’ she said.
I still said nothing.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned the word “London” but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been thinking about
the future all day.’
I took a sip of the quinine water and decided it was drinkable. I took another sip.
‘Is there no chance that Daddy could change his mind about this decision?’
‘None.’
‘But he’ll miss you so much! Who will he play chess with in the evenings?’
I said nothing.
‘Things are hell for him at the moment,’ she said. ‘Alicia’s not speaking to him because of Sebastian. Poor Daddy’s absolutely
miserable.’
‘That’s tough.’ I poured myself a little more quinine water and added another ice cube.
‘Might he recall you, do you think, after a few months?’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Supposing … supposing—’
‘Yes?’
‘Supposing you just flatly refuse to go. Would he fire you? He couldn’t, could he, because you told me he was terrified of
what might happen if you became president of Reischman’s.’
‘No, he wouldn’t fire me now. He’d fire me later as soon as he had the chance to do so.’
‘But he might have forgiven you by then!’
‘No. Never. No man, not even me, defies Cornelius to that extent and gets away with it.’
‘But supposing … supposing … Scott, supposing we got married …’
I turned away and watched the two pink fish floating dreamily in their aquarium.
‘Don’t you see?’ said Vicky in a trembling voice. ‘If you marry me, you’re certain to stay in the firm and get what you want.
How could Daddy pass you over if you were his son-in-law?’
I drank the quinine water and went on watching the pink fish.
‘I know you dislike children, but—’
‘I don’t dislike them,’ I said, suppressing the memory of Rose and Lori taking up too much of Emily’s time in the past.
‘—but Eric and Paul will both be away at school for most of the year soon, and the girls are so little trouble – girls are
much easier than boys – and that leaves Benjamin, but Benjamin’s really very sweet and I can manage him – I wouldn’t let him
bother you in any way—’
She stopped. Then she laughed awkwardly and said: ‘I don’t usually propose to men like this, believe me, but it’s the only
solution to our problems that I can come up with.’
I knew I had to choose my next words with great care. ‘It’s a very attractive solution,’ I said warmly, giving her a kiss.
‘And in theory it’s a great idea.’
‘In theory? Not in practice? You don’t think it would work?’
‘No. The timing’s all wrong.’ I knew better than to try and kiss her again then, but I took her hands in mine and held them
tightly. ‘Vicky, listen. The truth is that if I marry you now and get out of going to London, Cornelius is going to be very
upset. He won’t believe I’m marrying you because I love you. He’ll immediately convince himself that I’m marrying you just
to secure my future, and who could blame him for jumping to that conclusion in the circumstances?’
‘Oh, screw Daddy! I’ll fix him!’
‘I doubt that. You may have a lot of influence with him but not where the bank’s concerned.’
‘I see. So you haven’t the guts to marry me because you’re afraid of upsetting Daddy!’ She jerked her hands away and stood
up.
‘It’s not so simple as that. Supposing we did marry now and couldn’t get the marriage to work. It’s possible. We have a lot
going for us, but marriage is never a bed of roses and we could run into trouble. And then where would I be? I agree I’d have
Cornelius where I want him if I were his son-in-law, but where would I be if I was his ex-son-in-law by the time we come to
his magic date of the first of January 1968? I’d be washed up and out in the cold.’
‘I see what Kevin meant now,’ she said. ‘I’m beginning to think he was right after all. You can’t relate properly to people.
You can only relate to your ambition.’
‘Now wait a minute – hear me out! I’m not saying we should never marry! I want to marry you very much. All I’m saying is that
it would be a mistake to rush into marriage now. I think we ought to give our relationship a thorough trial over a long period
of time so we can iron
out all the difficulties that are certain to crop up. I think we should marry when I return to New York in 1968.’
‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘That, of course, would be the perfect moment to nail down your future once and for all without alienating
Daddy. He can hardly object to the legalization of an affair which has been going on for four years.’
‘But Vicky, I just feel in all sincerity—’
‘You feel nothing. You don’t care about me. All you care about is that damned bank. What’s going on here can be summed up
in four words: you don’t love me.’
‘But I do love you!’ I shouted. ‘I’m crazy about you! You’re the one who’s not in love – if you loved me, you wouldn’t let
me go to London alone! You’d come with me! When a woman’s really in love she doesn’t care about anything except being with
her lover – she doesn’t even care about her kids! Look what happened when Alicia met Cornelius!’
‘I don’t have to look at what happened,’ she said. ‘I lived with it for years. I was one of the victims.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Okay, maybe I
don’t
love you! Perhaps you’re right! Perhaps I just like the way you make love! The truth is I’m so upset and confused and hurt
and rejected and just plain goddamned unhappy that I don’t know anything any more. Would you mind going now, please? I don’t
want to make love to you again. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘Vicky—’ I was in despair. ‘Look, we’ll work this out, I know we will—’
‘Oh, face reality, Scott, for God’s sake! This is no fairytale! It’s been a wonderful affair, but now it’s over. It has to
be over. There’s nowhere else for it to go.’
‘But honey – sweetheart—’
She looked up at me with fierce grey eyes. Tears were streaming down her face but she was unaware of them. ‘I wish I was with
Sebastian!’ she said brutally. ‘He really loved me! And he never called me any of those stupid meaningless empty names!’
The jealousy hit me with such violence that I felt dizzy. I stumbled back a pace, jarred the coffee-table; the quinine water
splashed turbulently in the glass.
‘Okay, go back to him,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you?’
I found my way to the bedroom and pulled on my clothes. ‘If he solves all your problems,’ I shouted, ‘you go back. Fine. Great.
Good luck to you.’
I heard muffled sobs. I knotted my tie, pushed back my hair
with a shaking hand and found myself once more in the living-room. She was slumped on the couch with her hands covering her
face.
‘So what’s your problem?’ I said. ‘Maybe Sebastian doesn’t have too much finesse in bed, but why should that bother you now?
If ever you want a good fuck just jet into London and maybe if I’m not too busy I’ll spare you a couple of hours of my time.
That’s all you wanted out of me anyway, wasn’t it? You were just using me to prove something to yourself and now that you’ve
got the proof you need you don’t want me any more!’
She raised a blotched tear-stained face swollen with weeping. I had a sickening memory of Emily grieving for my father.
‘Vicky, I’m sorry – forgive me – I didn’t mean that—’
‘Shutup!’ she screamed. ‘Get out! You’ve messed up my life quite enough – leave me alone! Christ, and to think you have the
nerve to accuse
me
of using
you
! You’ve been using me all the way along the line! You can’t treat women in any other way! You’re sick! It doesn’t matter
how good you are in bed – you’ll always end up a failure with women because you’ll never be any better than an emotional cripple!’
I picked up the glass of quinine water and hurled it against the wall. Vicky screamed. Fragments of glass burst across the
carpet. I turned. I was by the liquor cabinet. I picked up the bottle of gin and flung that too after the glass. There was
another crash, another scream, then the sickening reek of alcohol.
‘No!’ shouted Vicky. ‘No! I’ll call the police! No—’
I looked down. I had a bottle of scotch in my hand. I replaced it slowly in the liquor cabinet and rubbed the back of my hand
cross my eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said dazed. ‘I don’t know what happened. I’ve never done that before when I was sober.’
She backed away from me. I could tell she was frightened.
‘Please go now,’ she said in a high voice.
‘I’m very sorry. Forgive me—’
‘Just go.’
‘—I’ll call you.’
She did not answer and I did not look back. Groping my way to the front door I left the apartment and somehow found my way
out of the lighted corridors into the darkness which lay waiting for me beyond.
[1]
‘Are you okay?’ said Cornelius.
‘Just fine.’
‘Still think you’ll be ready to leave on Tuesday?’
‘My secretary’s made the plane reservation.’
‘Good … No problems?’
‘None.’
I called her as soon as I returned to my office. I had intended to wait until the evening, but I now knew waiting was impossible.
I had to talk to her at once.
There was no answer from the apartment so I called the duplex and spoke to the housekeeper.
‘Mrs Foxworth’s gone away for a few days, sir. She left an hour ago.’
‘Where’s she gone?’
‘I don’t know, but she’s left an address with her father in case there was an emergency. I’m sure if you asked Mr Van Zale—’
I hung up. No wonder Cornelius had been inquiring so tenderly after my health. I called his houses in Arizona and Bar Harbor
but no one was expecting her to arrive. Later in the day I called them again but she wasn’t there.
I somehow got through the rest of the day and when I reached home late that evening I found a letter which had arrived for
me by special delivery. She had written: ‘I don’t want to see you again before you leave and I don’t want you to call me from
London. I’ve no doubt we’ll eventually meet again but meanwhile I must have time to get over all this. I do sincerely hope
you’ll be happy in London and that you’ll get whatever it is you want out of life. I’ve quite accepted the fact that it isn’t
me.’
I switched on the television to distract myself, but no distraction was possible. I switched off the set and read the letter
again. I began to be afraid I might call the liquor store to place an order so I immediately fixed myself a tall Coke with
a heavy twist of lemon, but to my alarm I drank it in seconds. That was bad. I always tried to drink slowly. I decided I had
to get some quinine water. I wouldn’t want to drink that fast. Did the supermarket carry quinine water? I couldn’t remember.
I decided to inquire at the nearest liquor store.
I got to the liquor store but then it occurred to me that it would be
easier – not smarter, not wiser, just easier – if I visited the supermarket instead so I went in and bought a six-pack of
7-Up.
Back home again I fixed myself a fake Tom Collins and drank it very slowly while I found some notepaper and sat down at the
kitchen counter.
I wrote: ‘Dear Vicky’ but that seemed so cold so I tore off the sheet and tried again. No words came. I was remembering how
Vicky had said: ‘Get off that wheel!’ and suddenly I thought how wonderful it would be to be free. What would I do with myself?
I decided I would like to live with Vicky on a boat somewhere a long way away. I loved the sea and I was a good sailor. My
father had had a yacht and every weekend in the summer he had taken me sailing on Long Island Sound.
I got up abruptly. My glass was empty. Fixing myself another fake Tom Collins I used the notepad to make a list of matters
which still had to be settled before I went to Europe. Then I called the superintendent of the building to arrange for my
apartment to be sub-let; I examined the Yellow Pages and found a firm who would remove and store my meagre possessions; and
I made a list of the books and records which I wanted to have crated and mailed airfreight to London. That used up some time.
I fixed myself a hamburger but couldn’t eat it. That took another quarter of an hour but the night still stretched endlessly
ahead of me. Pushing my glass aside I tried to write to Vicky again.
This time I was more successful. I wrote: ‘Vicky, I love you very much. I think you’ve been too hasty in insisting that we’re
through and I know I was wrong in making no effort to compromise. Will you at least see me one more time before I leave to
see if we can’t figure something out? I’m sure you were right to bring up the subject of marriage, and I’m sorry I mishandled
the conversation so badly. Please – give me one more chance to put matters right. It’s very lonely here without you. All my
love, SCOTT.’
[2]
I felt much more optimistic about the future once that letter was written. I thought that if only I could engineer a reconciliation
she would agree to take a vacation in London in the new year, and once we had been together for a brief period there the way
would have been paved for future visits. I would, of course, give her an engagement ring to reassure her that I was committed
to the idea of marriage, and once she
knew I had committed myself I thought she would find it easier to accept the idea of a long engagement. I was willing to concede
that a long engagement wasn’t an ideal situation, but on the other hand it was neither unknown nor unmanageable. In the navy
I had often met men who, engaged for years, only saw their fiancées at irregular intervals, and nobody had thought the situation
in the least odd.
‘Could you have this letter mailed to Vicky, please?’ I said to Cornelius later. ‘It’s very important and I know you have
her address.’
It was Thanksgiving and the bank was officially closed, but I was about to go downtown to get on with my work. I had already
excused myself from the family’s Thanksgiving dinner. When I called at the Van Zale triplex I found Cornelius had finished
eating his breakfast but was lingering in the dining-room with a final cup of coffee.
He gave me a hard look. ‘She didn’t want to be bothered by anyone. She was very upset.’
‘I realize that. The aim of this letter is to make her less upset. You want to read the letter? Go ahead. I’ll open the envelope.’
‘Good God, no, of course I don’t want to read your private correspondence! What happens between you and Vicky is nothing to
do with me!’
‘Then you’ll forward the letter.’
‘Okay.’ He eyed the envelope coldly.
I sat down with him at the breakfast table. ‘I’m sorry about all this trouble, Cornelius.’
‘So you damn well should be. You’ve spoilt my entire Thanksgiving. I was counting on Vicky to be here. Alicia’s gone off to
stay with Andrew and Lori and I don’t know when she’ll be back.’
‘I’m … sure she won’t be away long.’
‘No, probably not, but all the same … You just don’t know what’s been going on here. I’ve had another row with Sebastian.’
‘Another row? For God’s sake, what about?’
‘Well, I … you know I never go back on an important decision, but—’
‘You offered to reinstate him?’ I tried not to look appalled.
‘Yes, well, you see, Alicia was so upset, and … well, I figured maybe I’d been a bit hasty, and … oh, the hell with it, what
does it matter! Sebastian rejected the idea anyway so we’re all back at first base again.’
‘Sebastian refused your offer to reinstate him?’ This time I couldn’t stop myself looking incredulous.
‘That’s right. “I meant every word I said when you fired me,” he says. “I’m not coming back unless you resign and make me
senior
partner.” So then I get so mad I threaten to see he doesn’t get another job on the Street, and you know what he says then?
“Save your energy!” he says. “I’m quitting banking. I’ve had it. Do your damndest,” he says, “and see if I care. I’m going
off to Europe. It’s the only civilized place to live. I’m through with the savages and the philistines and the plastic society.”’
‘He’s crazy!’ I thought how much Sebastian loved New York. ‘He can’t mean it!’
‘Just what I said to him. “You can’t do this!” I said to him. “What about your mother? You can’t go to live thousands of miles
away from her! What’s she going to do?” “That’s your problem,” he says, “and I hope you enjoy solving it.” And he walks out.
My God! I tell you, it’s been a terrible forty-eight hours!’
‘I’m sorry – very sorry. I know it must seem as if it’s all my fault—’
‘That’s right. But maybe we’ll have a bit of peace once you ship yourself off to Europe. Thank God you’re going soon,’ said
Cornelius, slipping Vicky’s letter into his pocket, and walked out of the room without another word.
[3]
On Friday my possessions were taken away to be stored or crated, and vacating my apartment I checked into the Carlyle Hotel
for the remainder of my time in New York. However since I spent the weekend working I saw little of the hotel, and by the
time I had wound up my business affairs on Monday night I was so exhausted I wondered how I could summon the strength to get
back to my suite. I was just about to leave the office for the last time when the red phone rang on my desk.
Apparently Cornelius had also worked late, perhaps to postpone the moment when he had to return to his deserted triplex. Alicia
was still in California and Vicky had not responded to my letter. I was almost sure now she had never received it.
‘Yes?’ I said abruptly into the red phone.
‘Will you be much longer?’
‘I’m just leaving.’
‘Okay, I’ll give you a ride uptown.’
In the Cadillac we sat in silence for some time, but somewhere north of Canal Street he said: ‘Did you hear from Vicky?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. I forwarded the letter. I guess now you think I didn’t.’
‘Right.’
‘Well, you’re wrong.’
‘Okay, I’m wrong.’
We rode uptown a little further.
‘Sorry I was so mad at you the other day,’ said Cornelius. ‘I enjoyed Thanksgiving in the end. I get a lot of pleasure out
of those kids. I’m damned lucky to have five grandchildren.’
The Cadillac stopped at some lights. I looked out of the window at the wasteland and in my weariness it had never seemed so
ugly to me.
‘But of course they’re very young still,’ said Cornelius. ‘They’re great, but I can’t really talk to them, you know, I can’t
really … I’m not sure how to put it. I tried to teach Eric and Paul to play chess, but they didn’t seem to want to learn.
Uh … Scott … how about a quick game of chess tonight? Just one last game before you go?’
I saw only one answer which wouldn’t imply hostility. ‘Okay.’
‘Well, we won’t play if you’re too tired,’ he said anxiously. ‘But have some dinner and a couple of Cokes with me.’
‘All right.’ I pulled myself together with an effort. ‘Thanks.’
In the triplex Cornelius uncapped our Cokes while we waited for our steaks to be broiled. ‘What do you think of this South-East
Asia business?’ he said. ‘I wonder if Johnson’s right to keep on with Kennedy’s policies there. Still war’s good for big business.
Remember Korea.’
‘Right.’
‘Hope Andrew doesn’t get posted there. I’ve done my best to keep him out of it but now he says he wants to go. That would
be the last straw for Alicia, of course. Christ, this has been a terrible year. By the way, what do you think of the latest
developments on the assassination? Of course it’s all a communist conspiracy. I said to Sam back in 1949 …’
I mentally switched off, and as Cornelius went on talking I looked at the ugly furniture in the room, the abstract paintings
all hinting obscurely at violence, the shelves of unread books, the barren trappings of a barren life.
We ate our steaks in silence. Cornelius unexpectedly ordered half a bottle of red wine and drank every drop of it. Finally
he said: ‘I can see you’re very tired. I’m sorry, I guess I was being selfish, dragging you back here for dinner. But the
truth is I’m not looking forward to losing you tomorrow. I’m going to miss you a lot.’
‘Your choice, Cornelius. Not mine.’
‘Choice? What choice? No; don’t answer that. Scott … we’re parting friends, aren’t we?’
‘Of course.’
‘That’s good. Please understand that I’m truly grateful to you for stepping into the breach like this in London – and don’t
think I’ve forgotten how to express my gratitude in a meaningful way when the time’s right.’
After a slight pause I said: ‘Thank you. I don’t think you’ll find my performance in London a disappointment.’
‘I’ve every confidence in you. Good. I’m glad we understand each other again.’
When we had finished dinner he saw me out into the hall.
‘Well, I guess this is it, then,’ he said. ‘This is where we say goodbye.’ And he held out his hand shyly.
I looked at the hand. Then I took it, shook it and dropped it. ‘So long.’
He looked at me. His eyes were bright with tears. I assumed the wine had made him uncharacteristically maudlin, and I found
this display of emotion highly unpleasant.
‘You’ll always be my boy, Scott,’ he said, ‘no matter what happens. Remember that.’
I thought of him murdering my father and I wanted to vomit in his face, I wanted to beat him to pulp, I wanted to take him
by the neck and squeeze the life out of him very slowly so that he would know the full horror of dying by inches. But I never
moved. I just thought remotely: I’ll wipe him out in the end, and aloud I just said: ‘I’ll remember.’
Then I left him and walked back to the Carlyle.
[4]
There was still no letter from Vicky waiting for me, and although I called her housekeeper there was no message. I knew now
that Vicky was determined to break with me, and I wondered if I could delay my departure, confront her on her return to the
city and persuade her to change her mind. Then I decided it would be dangerous to postpone my flight. If I postponed it once
I might be tempted to postpone it again. My nerve might crack. Already I felt as if I were on an emotional rack from which
I might not emerge alive.
The night wore on. I sensed Death was very close. I was thinking continuously of Vicky, wondering how I would survive if she
insisted on ending the affair.
The possibility of survival was suddenly a mere fragile thread which
could snap at any moment, and as I watched the dawn break at last over the East River I saw Death begin to walk towards me
across the chessboard by the sea.
[5]
And so at last my fantasy merged with reality and I found myself acting out the myth which had mesmerized me for so long.
As I stepped into the BOAC section of the Departures Building at John F. Kennedy International Airport, I stepped into the
desolate landscape of Roland’s quest and when I saw that blighted desert of concrete and glass I recognized it as the wasteland
which guarded the Dark Tower.