Authors: Arthur Hailey
Partridge asked, "What do you think's ahead
?
”
Jaeger considered before answering
.”
I'll tell you first what I don't see
happening, and that's network news disappearing or even changing much
,
despite some dire predictions. Maybe CNN will move into top rank-it has
the distribution; all that's needed is network quality. But the important
thing is, there's an enormous appetite out there for news, more than ever
before in history, and in every country
.”
"Television did it
.”
"Damn right! TV's the twentieth-century equivalent of Gutenberg and
Caxton. What's more, for all of television's failings, its news has made
people hungry to know more. It's why newspapers are stronger and will
stay that way
.”
"I doubt they'll give us credit
,”
Partridge said
"They may not give credit, but they give attention. Don Hewitt at CBS has
pointed out that the New York Times has four times as many people
assigned full-time to television as they have reporters covering the
United Nations. And a lot of that writing is about us-TV news, its
people, what we do
.”
Turn it around, though
,”
Jaeger continued
.”
When was there anything
important enough about the Times to be featured on TV? All of that
applies to the rest of the print press, and so you ask yourself, which
is being acknowledged as the more important medium
?
”
Partridge chuckled
.”
Color me important
.”
"Color
!”
Jaeger seized the word
.”
That's something else TV
has changed. Newspapers are looking more like tel
evision screens-som
e
thing USA Today began. You and I
, Harry, will live to see four colors on the New York Times front page. The public will demand it and the old gray Times will heed the writing on the tube
.”
"You're full of homespun tonight
,”
Partridge said
.”
What else do you
foresee
?
”
"I see the weekly newsmagazines disappearing. They're dinosaurs. When Time
and Newsweek get to subscribers, much of what's inside is a week to ten
days old, and nowadays who wants to read stale news? Incidentally, the way
I hear it, advertisers are asking the same question
.”
Jaeger went on, "So despite their dishonest cover dates and classy writing
,
eventually the weekly newsies will go the way of Collier's, Look and the
Saturday Evening Post. Incidentally, most kids working in news nowadays
have never heard of those
.”
They had come to the Parker-
Meridian
on West Fifty-seventh, where Jaeger
was staying. Partridge had preferred what he thought of as the more cozy
Inter-Continental on East Forty-eighth
.”
We're a couple of old war-horses, Harry
,”
Jaeger said
.”
See you in the
morning
.”
They shook hands and said good night.
A half hour later, in bed and surrounded by several newspapers he had
bought on the way to his hotel, Partridge began reading. But before long
the newsprint blurred and be pushed the papers aside. He would go through
them in the morning along with fresh editions which would arrive with
breakfast
.
Still, sleep did not come easily. Too much had happened in the preceding
thirty-six hours. His mind was full-a kaleidoscope of events, ideas
,
responsibilities, all of them intertwined with thoughts of Jessica, the
past, the present memories revived . .
.
Where was Jessica now? Was Teddy right about a twenty
-
five-mile radius? Was
there a chance that somehow he, Harry the Seasoned Warrior, like some
medieval knight in shining
armor, could successfully lead a crusade to find and free his former love?
Cut the whimsy!
Save thoughts about Jessica and the others for tomorrow
.
He tried to clear his mind to rest, or at least to think of something else
.
Inevitably,
that something else became Gemm
a . . . the other great love
of his life
.
Yesterday, during the journey from Toronto, he had relived that memorable
papal flight: The Alitalia DC-10 . . . the press section and an encounter
with the Pope . . . Partridge's decision not to use the pontiffs "slaves
”
remark, rewarded by a rose from Gemma . . . the beginning of their mutual
passion and commitment . .
.
No longer avoiding thoughts of Gemma, as he had for so long, he resumed in
memory where he had ended the day before.
That papal tour, through Central America and the Caribbean, was long and
arduous-
It was one of the most ambitious undertaken by the Pope. The
itinerary included eight countries and long
flights, with some at night
.
From the moment of their initial encounter, Partridge decided he wanted to
know Gemma better, but his CBA reporting duties allowed him little time to
see her during stops. Yet they became increasingly aware of each other and
sometimes in the air, when Gemma wasn't busy, she came to sit beside him
.
Soon they began holding hands and once, before leaving, she leaned over and
they kissed
.
When it happened, his already strong desire for her increased
They talked as often as they could and he began to learn about her
background
Gemma was born in Tuscany, the youngest of three sisters, in a small
mountain resort town, Vallombrosa, not far from Florence
.”
It is not a
fashionable place where the rich go, Harry caro, but very beautiful
“
Vallombrosa, she told him, was a haven of the Italian middle class, who
stayed there during summers. A mile away was I
l
Paradisino where John Milton once lived and, legend claimed, found the inspiration for Paradise Lost
.
Gemma's
father was a talented artist who made a good living restoring
paintings and frescoes; he often worked in Florence. Her mother was a
music teacher. Art and music were an integral part of the family's life
and continued to be part of Gemma`s
-
She had joined A
litalia three years earlier
.”
I wanted to see the world
.
There was no other way I could afford it
.”
Partridge asked, "This way, have you seen very much
?
”
"Some pieces. Not as many as I would like, and I am growing tired of
being a carneriera del cielo
.”
He laughed
.”
You're much more than a waitress in the sky. But you must
have met many people
.”
With a jealous twinge, he added, "A lot of men
?
”
Gemma shrugged "Most I would not want to meet again outside an airplane
.”
“
But there were others
?
”
She smiled, that
flashing sweet smile, so much a part of her
.”
There has
been no one I have liked as much as you
.”
It was said simply and Partridge, the professional skeptic, wondered if
he was being nai
ve and
foolish in believing her. Then he thought, Why
shouldn't I believe when I
feel exactly the same way, when no other woman
since Jessica has had the same effect on me as Gemma?
Both of them, he sensed, felt the journey was going too quickly. So
little time remained At the end of it they would probably walk away
,
never seeing each other again
.
Perhaps because of that sense of time running out, one memorable night
when the cabin lights were turned low and most others were asleep, Gemma
curled up beside him and, under a blanket, they made love. In the
confines of a tourist three-seat section, they should have been
uncomfortable but somehow weren't, and he remembered it always as among
the more beautiful experiences of his life
.
It was immediately after their lovemaking-on impulse, and reminded that
he had lost Jessica through indecision-he whispered, "Gemma, will you
marry me
?
”
She had whispered back, "Oh, arnor mio, of course I will.
The next stop would be Panama. In a low voice, Partridge asked questions
and made plans while Gemma, laughing softly, mischievously in the
semidarkness, agreed to everything
.
In daylight they landed at Panama's Tocumen Airport. The Alitalia DC-10
taxied in. The Pope disembarked and, like the trained actor he had once
been, smoothly kissed the ground as a multitude of cameras zoomed in. After
that, the standard formalities began
.
Before the landing, Partridge had talked with his field producer and camera
crew, asking them to cover the Pope's activities during the next
few hours
without him. He would
join them later in narrating and helping edit the
regular National Evening News report. Panama, which did not have daylight
saving time, was only an hour behind New York so there would be sufficient
time
.”
Wh
ile clearly curious, the other CBA staffers asked no questions, though
Partridge knew it was unlikely that his and Gemma's growing attachment had
passed unnoticed
.
He also approached the New York Times reporter on the flight, who happened
to be Graham Broderick, asking if he would share his notes for that day
with Partridge. Broderick, while raising his eyebrows quizzically, agreed
.
W
orking
journalists often made such trades, never knowing when they might
need help themselves
.
Wh
en the others disembarked, Partridge held back. He had no idea what
explanation Gemma gave to her chief the senior purser, but she joined him
and they left the DC-10 together. Gemma, still in Alitalia uniform, began
explaining she had no means of changing into other clothes. But he stopped
her and said, "I love you as you are
.”
She turned to face him, her expression serious
.”
Do you truly, Harry
?
”
He nodded slowly
.”
Truly
.”
They looked into each other's eyes and each seemed satisfied with what they
saw
.
Inside the airport terminal, Partridge left Gemma briefly. Going to a
tourist booth, he asked several questions of a pimply youth behind a
counter. The young man, smirking, told him he
must go with the sefiora to Las B6vedas, part of the Old City wall in the Plaza de Francia. There he would find the Juzgado Municipal
.
Partridge and Gemma took a taxi to the Old City. They got out near a
towering obelisk topped by a chanticleer, the crowing rooster commemorating
French canal builders, among them the famed Ferdinand de Lesseps
.
Some twenty minutes later, inside the old wall and standing before a juez
in an ornate office that had once been a prison cell, Harry Partridge and
Gemma Baccelli became husband and wife. During a
five-minute ceremony
the
judge, casually dressed in a cotton guayabera, signed an Acta
Matrimonial which cost twenty-five dollars and Partridge paid twenty
dollars each to two stenographers who served as witnesses
.
The bride and groom were informed that the
additional f
ormality of
registering their marriage was optional and, in fact, unnecessary until
they came back for a divorce
.”
We will register,
“
Partridge said, "and we will not be back
At the end, without great conviction, the juez wished them, 'Il
Que vivan
los novios
!”