I looked at him before I could stop myself but not a muscle of his face had moved. And then, very slowly, he smiled.
‘Christ, Vicky,’ he said, ‘it’s been such a long time.’
‘Oh God, Scott … I … Oh God—’
‘I’m sorry about what happened. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but—’
‘Oh yes you do!’ I blazed. ‘You turn on the charm and expect me to grovel at your feet, you egoist, you sonofabitch, you—’
He started to laugh. ‘All I did was offer you an apology!’
‘I’ll tell you what you can do with your apology!’ I said, but I never did. I raised my face to his as he leant over to kiss
me, and the next moment his hair was coarse beneath my fingers, his hands were hard upon my body and his mouth was dry as
my tongue slipped past his lips.
The Rolls-Royce swept serenely on towards London.
[5]
‘All right, you bastard, level with me. Why didn’t you call?’
‘I had nothing to offer you. What right had I to reopen all the old wounds when I was still no closer to solving the problems
that had divided us back in ’63?’
‘But were you never tempted—’
‘Tempted! Of course I was tempted! I nearly called you lots of times to offer you another ride down the same dead-end street,
but I always felt I just couldn’t do that to you. I cared too much. Then later your father said—’
‘If he lied I’ll kill him. I will! I’ve had enough of him lying to you and wrecking everything!’
Scott laughed. ‘This time we can’t blame your father. Other people besides Cornelius told me you’d made a new life for yourself,
taking an active interest in the stock market, supervising your own portfolio, going out to parties, making new friends, even—’
‘No,’ I said, ‘you can forget the gossip you heard about Jordan.’
‘Well, of course there must have been others. I fully realize that.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No, I was sick of meaningless sex and I didn’t want anyone but you. My God, why on earth did I have to tell you that? I must
be mad. The last thing your ego needs is a woman confessing she’s slept alone for three and a half years because she couldn’t
get you out of her mind.’
‘Vicky … Don’t be so hard on yourself.’
‘What choice do I have? It seems I’m constitutionally incapable of being hard on you. More fool me.’
‘Shhh.’ He started kissing me again. ‘It’s all going to come right, Vicky. Our dead-end street’s going to be opening into
a freeway. It’s only a matter of months now till I’m back in New York, and then—’
‘The Savoy, sir,’ said the chauffeur, opening the door.
We exchanged one more kiss. Then Scott dismissed both car and chauffeur and followed me into the hotel.
[6]
‘Okay,’ I said, ‘I’ve been frank with you – much too frank – and now I’d like a little frankness in return. Tell me all about
your show-stopping private life during the past three and a half years.’
Scott smiled. We were propped up against a huge mound of pillows and drinking a bottle of champagne which he had found in
the refrigerated liquor cabinet in the living-room of my suite. For Scott, living on European time, it was two o’clock in
the morning, but for me it was only nine o’clock at night. I felt alert, bright and euphoric.
I glanced at him. The soft light from the bedside lamp glowed on the tousled bed where the upper sheet, limp and creased,
wound its way over my feet across his thighs and back again over my stomach. My breasts were a delicate shade of mottled pink
as if the recent unfamiliar events had proved shocking to them; dragging the sheet upwards to cover their absurd colour I
deprived Scott of the scanty covering on his thighs and at once I was aware of his length, his solidness and the pattern of
hair on his chest, stomach and groin.
‘Well?’ I said. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me you’ve been having a whole string of glamorous affairs?’ I was smiling too to
show him I didn’t care what he’d done, but we both knew I cared very much. The rational part of my brain knew he must have
had other women, but the irrational part made me feel jealous and hurt. I couldn’t bear to think of him with anyone else.
But neither could I bear the thought of him lying to spare my feelings. ‘I want the truth!’ I said fiercely, no longer looking
at him. ‘I deserve it! You owe it to me!’
‘Sure.’ He took my hand in his and stroked the back of it gently with his index finger. ‘I was in bad shape when I got to
England,’ he said at last, ‘and I thought my only hope was to try to replace you as soon as possible. I had an affair with
a librarian. She wasn’t pretty but she was smart and I liked her. It seemed like some kind of answer. We lived together for
six weeks. Then she left.’
I waited for an explanation but when none came I said cautiously: ‘She found someone else?’
‘No, she just found me impossible to live with. I … was drinking a lot at the time.’ He looked down at the glass of champagne
in his hand and I noticed for the first time that he had barely touched it. ‘However, I got that problem straightened out
by moving out of the apartment I’d rented and moving into a townhouse where I had to hire servants. When I was obliged to
maintain a certain standard of behaviour at home as well as at the office I found it easier to keep my drinking under control.’
‘I see.’ For some reason I didn’t like to question him further about his drinking. ‘And did the next girl last longer?’
‘Next girl? Oh, after the disaster with the librarian I didn’t like to risk living with anyone else. I did try my old game
of one-night stands for a short while, but that didn’t work out either. I was too afraid of my old problem coming back, and
soon I found I couldn’t face a woman until I’d had too much to drink – another recipe for disaster, as I discovered all too
quickly. Well, I knew I had to keep the drink under control so I thought hell, why bother with women, why go to all the trouble,
why try to use sex to relax when the result is so far from relaxing?’ He laughed at himself, mocking his situation as if he
were merely shrugging off past absurdities. His eyes shone with pain. ‘So finally,’ he said, making a great business of turning
away from me and setting down his glass of champagne, ‘sanity prevailed, common sense triumphed and my show-stopping private
life drew to its ignominious close. No doubt you’re now thinking I got exactly what I deserved after the way I treated you
in New York. That’s certainly my opinion, and you’re very welcome to share it.’
I put my hand over his and held it. He turned out the light so that he no longer had to make the effort to hide his expression.
We lay side by side in the comforting darkness for some time.
Finally he said: ‘I think I’m going to survive after all. I didn’t know how I was going to get through these years away from
you. I often thought I wasn’t going to make it.’
I put my fingers softly against his mouth. Then I kissed him. Later I said: ‘I would have come to London. I’d have done anything.
If only—’
‘No,’ he said. ‘No “if onlys”. If you’d come to London to live with me it would have solved some problems but created others
– and those others might well have made life just as intolerable. Do you think I didn’t consider every option? Do you think
I didn’t go over the situation time after time after time? The only solution I could see was to survive in London alone somehow
and pray for a miracle which would leave you free and willing to see me again when the time was
right.’ He switched on the light once more and finished his champagne with an effort. ‘It’s strange,’ he said looking into
his glass, ‘but I don’t even like liquor much. I drink scotch because I’m never tempted to have more than two shots – I don’t
care for the taste. The drink I like is vodka. You can dress that up and never know you’re taking alcohol … but perhaps that
too has its disadvantages. I got into bad trouble in the navy once or twice because … but those days don’t matter any more
now I’ve got my drinking under control, so why resurrect them? Let’s talk of something else.’ He leant over me with a smile
and began to run his fingers slowly through my hair. ‘I like you with your hair long.’
‘Good. Alicia thinks I look like mutton dressed as lamb.’
‘Alicia’s jealous of you as usual!’
‘Yes, but it doesn’t bother me any more. I don’t give a damn.’
‘How are she and Cornelius getting along nowadays?’
‘It’s hard to tell. I used to think they were on the verge of divorce again but now I think they’re just very, very married.
I’ve come to the reluctant conclusion that in their own peculiar way they’re a remarkable couple and that I should stop sneering
at their marriage and start admiring it instead. Do you realize that they’ve now been married thirty-six years? That’s no
mean feat, is it? My God! What on earth can it be like to have been married to the same person for thirty-six years!’
‘Shall we try it and find out?’
I spilled champagne all over the bed. ‘Is that a proposal?’
‘What did you think it was? An invitation to a scientific experiment?’
‘Oh Scott … darling …’
All pain was over. He started laughing, I laughed with him and in a haze of joyous relief we fell clumsily into each other’s
arms.
[7]
‘Are you sure you want to marry me?’ I said anxiously some time later. ‘I know you’ve always felt you were unsuited for marriage.’
‘All I know is,’ said Scott, ‘that I’m unsuited for a life without you. So long as we can be together I don’t care whether
I’m married, living in sin or in residence at a zoo.’
‘In this case you’ll have both marriage
and
the zoo! Oh Scott, are you sure you don’t mind about the children? I know how you feel about—’
‘Let’s stop talking about how I feel and talk about how you feel. I
know how much your children mean to you. I know you want a permanent relationship with a man you can rely upon, and obviously
in your circumstances it’s better if that man’s your husband and not just your lover. None of this is unreasonable. In fact
it could hardly be more natural. I hope you don’t think I’m so emotionally disturbed that I can’t understand your position,
respect it and go along with it.’
‘Well, of course I don’t think you’re emotionally disturbed, but—’
‘I’ll do my best with the kids, Vicky, I promise. It may not be a very good best at the beginning but I’ll work at it. I love
you and I’d do anything to make you happy. You mustn’t worry about the kids any more.’
Tears filled my eyes because this assurance was so exactly what I had wanted to hear. I whispered my thanks and kissed him
lightly on the cheek.
We were silent for a while. By this time it was very late and I was feeling sleepy.
‘Of course,’ said Scott at last, ‘your father’s not going to like this very much.’
I was suddenly wide awake. I noticed for the first time that there was an oval moulding on the ceiling around the centre light,
and matching mouldings in the ceiling’s four corners.
‘Your father and I are getting on very well at the moment,’ said Scott. ‘I think we’ve managed to paper over all those cracks
which developed in our relationship back in 1963. Even so, he’s bound to regard this marriage of ours with extreme suspicion.
You do realize that, don’t you? I hope he won’t make you too upset.’
‘I’d just like to see him try!’ I went on watching the ceiling. The soft light from the bedside lamp was reflected in the
glass of the chandelier.
‘You’ve got much closer to him, haven’t you?’ said Scott. ‘I could tell from the way he talked about you.’
‘Oh, we get along. It’s no big deal.’
‘If he should try and turn you against me—’
‘Scott, I’m thirty-six years old and my own mistress and no man tells me how to run my life any more.’
‘Okay. Fine. I just thought I should warn you—’
‘All right, you’ve warned me. Now let’s drop it. It makes me angry to think of you and my father playing murky, messy, destructive
games with each other. Thank God that’ll all be over when we get married! You can hardly go on shadow-boxing with each other
when I’m planted firmly between you with an olive branch in one hand and a white flag in the other!’
I heard him laugh. ‘The referee in the ring?’
‘Well, why not?’ I finally stopped watching the ceiling and turned my head to look at him. ‘It’s about time somebody tried
to drill some sense into the pair of you!’
He smiled at me. ‘Well, don’t look so fierce! I’m willing enough for a truce! It’s your father who’s going to be the problem!’
‘You leave him to me,’ I said. ‘I’ll fix him.’
[8]
Later, much later, I opened my eyes to find him stooping over me as he stood fully dressed by the bed. The light was on in
the little hallway which linked the sitting-room with the bedroom of my suite.
‘I have to go home now, Vicky. I have to shave and change before I go to the office. Call me later after you’ve seen your
mother, and we’ll fix something for this evening.’
‘Mmmm …’ I nodded, still drugged with sleep.
His lips brushed mine. I was aware of his shadow moving away and a moment later the light clicked off in the hall.
‘Good luck with your mother.’
‘Hm.’
‘I love you very much.’
The door closed softly far, far away.
I slept.
[9]
I dreamt I was the child I had been long ago, the child with the custom-made dresses, the English nurse, the closets full
of toys, the carefully selected playmates, the part-time bodyguard (the Lindbergh kidnapping had made a deep impression on
my mother) and the miniature mink coat. I was very rich and very happy, although my nurse did her best to ensure I wasn’t
also very spoilt. However she must often have thought she was fighting a losing battle.
My mother used to worry in case Nanny was too strict with me, but in fact I enjoyed my well-regulated hours in Nanny’s company
because they made the time spent being spoiled by my parents so much more wicked and exciting. If I’d been spoiled continuously
I’ve no doubt I’d have been very unhappy. It was a lesson I was to remember when I had children of my own, and from the moment
I knew I was pregnant I had made up my mind to employ an English nurse so that there
would always be at least one person in my household who refused to indulge my children in every one of their whims. I reasoned
that wealth would later give them far too many opportunities to have exactly what they wanted; the least I could do for them
when they were young was to try to protect them from the undermining influence of a large income for as long as possible.