Three Rivers (51 page)

And they did.

In the days that followed their arrival in New York, many things happened to the Hyatts. A gamut of emotions was run by the two of them, but it was always made a little bit easier by the presence of their friend Alexander.

Isabel took each day as it came and dealt with it accordingly. It was because she handled herself this way that she was able to cope with it all so admirably.

Alexis used the paneled sitting room as an office where he did most of the work with his secretary. Isabel had the small library. She was delighted to be able to work on the outline of a new Meredith Montague with all the events going on around her.

There was an endless stream of telephone calls, all handled adeptly by the secretary. Alexis did have some important meetings: The Ford Foundation, a UNESCO conference, dinner with the Rockefellers, a visit to the
United Nations for lunch with the leaders of the Arab bloc.

There were invitations galore for both of them. All New York and its international diplomatic and political corps wanted to meet the new Lady Hyatt. Over their last cup of coffee in the morning, it became a habit to go over the list of invitations extended the day before. They went over them seriously, each always willing to accept to please the other, and always it ended with them both laughing and deciding to dine together alone, or with Alexander or with one or two of Alexis’s friends with whom they really wanted to be.

Since Alexis was a master at delegating, he seemed never to be ruffled with arrangements or meetings taking place. There was always more than enough time to spend with Isabel quietly and alone.

Isabel took everything in her stride, but could not help thinking how naive she was concerning her role as Alexis’s wife. They talked about it together, and he was marvelous, telling her he wanted her first for himself. She was his private life and love. The social demands made upon them need never be filled unless they both agreed.

He was extremely enthusiastic when he met her American publisher and thrilled when she signed a contract for four more books. They would be delivered one a year for the next four years.

Two days after they’d arrived and recovered from jet lag, Alexis announced that he was taking her on a little shopping expedition. Isabel hated shopping and told him laughingly that she would agree to go only if he would take her to one of her favorite restaurants for lunch. He accepted, and as he walked her past Bergdorf’s and into Van Cleef & Arpels, he put his arm around her and said, “You did not think I was taking you to a department store, did you? Darling, I detest crowds.”

There really was not that much shopping to do. He bought her a pair of perfect matched Burmese rubies, Cabouchon and about the size of robins’ eggs. They were set in a circle of splendid blue-white diamonds. He kissed her when he saw them on her ears and said, “I thought, darling, that you might like them for evenings. Ever since I saw you in a red dress, I could think of buying you nothing but rubies.”

They had them sent round to the hotel, and then the
two strolled down Fifth Avenue to Myako’s, one of Isabel’s really favorite restaurants. It was the first Japanese restaurant in New York and was just as she had remembered it. In an old brownstone on East Fifty-sixth Street, the restaurant was heavy with dark paneling, simple and beautiful. The food was divine, and the atmosphere was more like dining in a Japanese home than a restaurant.

They ate from dozens of small bowls of wonderful food, drank hot saki and talked about her love for him, his generosity and her rubies. They were the last people to leave.

When they were on the street again, going back to the hotel, he whispered in her ear, “I am going to take you home and fuck you for the rest of the afternoon.”

She whispered back laughingly, “What a nice idea! But promise to hold off until after you have opened your wedding present which, with some luck, should be there waiting for you.”

He looked delighted and asked what it was. Isabel gave him a smack on the arm and said, “You must wait! You are not the only one in this family capable of giving surprises!”

Alexis took her by the elbow and rushed her up the avenue. They were as happy with their life together in New York as they had been in London, Cairo and Upper Egypt. As they entered the lobby of the Sherry Netherland, Alexis stopped Isabel and said, “It is wonderful being with you here in New York. There will be so many things to do together. But first, do you feel up to seeing the captain of the
Aphrodite
? I think it would be best if we saw him in the next few days, don’t you?”

“I think you are right, it would be a good idea to see him as soon as possible,” Isabel agreed. “Would you be free to come with me and help me tomorrow, or the next day?”

“Fine, darling. Leave the details to me.”

They were let into the apartment by Gamal. Alexis spotted the package on the coffee table at once.

Isabel went and picked it up, saying, “This, darling, is my wedding gift to you. I hope that it pleases you.”

He kissed her and then took the large package, wrapped in a shiny, dark brown paper and tied with a white ribbon bow. There was an envelope tucked under the bow.

Alexis, for all his maturity and suaveness, was suddenly
like a small boy. He led Isabel to a place on the sofa. They sat close together as he opened the envelope.

Moved by what Isabel had written, he put the envelope down and took her in his arms. He first brushed his cheek against hers, then his lips against her cheek, and then he kissed her, almost trembling with passion for her. He kissed her again, and he could feel her reacting to him. He ran his hands over her breasts and then put himself under control. He told her to order some tea while he opened his gift.

Alexis found it absolutely extraordinary. It was the most beautiful pornographic picture book ever made, and one of the rarest books in the world. A signed edition, one of five, of the great painter and printmaker, the Japanese Utamaro. The bound book was a series of thirty-two exquisite colored prints, each one more exciting than the last. Kitagawa Utamaro was born in 1753 and died in 1806; his book of pornography was made when he was thirty-five years old, in his prime.

Picasso, who had one of the editions, is said to have considered it one of his favorite possessions and spent many hours looking at it, gathering enormous inspiration. There was another edition in King Farouk’s collection of pornography, which had been one of the finest and largest private collections in the world.

This copy had been purchased from a private collector in Paris. The seller wanted to remain anonymous, but both Alexis and Isabel did some guessing and thought that it might have come from André Malraux’s library. Of the remaining editions, one was in London and the other in the United States, both owned by museums.

It was a rare and marvelous object to receive as a wedding gift from one’s wife. Alexis was obviously overwhelmed by it. They looked together through the first five of the prints until Gamal brought in the tea. Alexis thanked him and told him not to disturb them until he was called.

They drank tea and looked at the next print. It was the purest pornographic art, absolutely so beautiful that it fired one not only sexually but aesthetically as well. The colors, the patterns, the textures drawn, were magnificent. To see a woman’s cunt drawn to such perfection, its color of deep pink and shadings from pale rose to dark magenta, made one look deep into it and think of an orchid.
The expression of ecstasy on the man’s face, as his tongue reached down into the beautifully formed cunt, was tantalizingly sexual and a miracle of art and desire.

They looked at two more pages and Alexis told Isabel that he adored the book. How exquisite an expression of sexuality it was, and how clever she was to have been able to find it.

He turned to another page: a painting of two men fucking a geisha who was dressed in a checked and flowered kimono that was draped open only where she was being used.

It was outrageously sexual and unutterably beautiful. Alexis could hold back no longer.

He turned to Isabel, threw her down on the sofa and lifted her skirt up. He spread her legs wide, telling her that he wanted to look and play with her as they looked at the pictures. Before they closed the book that afternoon, he had taken her in every position depicted.

Instead of being exhausted and worn-out from their hours of love play, they were very happy. They dressed again, and Isabel lay stretched out on the sofa, her head in Alexis’s lap. He rang Alexander, asking him to come see Isabel’s wedding gift if he was free.

The minute that Alexander entered the room, he knew from the atmosphere that they had had an orgy. He laughed at them and told them that he resented being called down after they had done everything to each other. He sat down and looked through the magnificent treasure on the table.

Alexis decided to keep the book on the boule desk in his sitting room, and Isabel laughed, asking what he would do if his secretary or some of his business associates looked through it. He said he would be delighted, for it would be good for everyone to be able to see such delicious things.

The next morning Isabel had a meeting with her American publisher. When she returned, the two men, Alexis and Alexander, were talking over business in the sitting room. Alexander staved on for lunch with them in the yellow dining room. While they waited for it to be brought up and served, they opened a bottle of Roderer Cristal and talked about some people that they had met at the restaurant where they’d all dined the night before.

Lunch was delicious, a gay and amusing meal, as all
meals seemed to be when the three of them were together. Isabel could see now how very close her husband and his best friend were. It was over coffee that Alexis suddenly turned serious and said to Isabel, “Darling, the captain of the
Aphrodite
and the ship’s doctor should be waiting by now in the drawing room. Alexander knows that they are here and I have asked him to stay. He is our best friend, and if he can help in any way, he would like to.”

Isabel was taken by surprise, just the way Alexis had planned it. All she could say was, “Well then, let us not keep them waiting.”

Alexis thought that it was going to be a difficult and upsetting meeting, but he never imagined how horrific it would turn out to be. They heard from the captain and the doctor what had actually happened and were handed the written report about Kate’s arrival, behavior and her heart attack on the Nile. Alexis read the last will and testament and the doctor’s report and death certificate, and turned to Isabel, asking her permission to pass them over to Alexander to read.

After Alexander had finished reading the documents, he turned to the captain and doctor and said, “Gentlemen, is it your concern that we might litigate against your company and you as individuals for executing the last will and testament of Mrs. Wells?”

It was the captain who spoke up. In the kindest way possible he said that he was under pressure from a dying woman to respect her last wishes. That it was only after the event that he realized the possibility of legal action by the family. He hoped that Sir Alexis and Lady Hyatt would not follow that course, since he was at the time acting in the best interests of his dying passenger.

It was Alexis who said, “We have no intention of doing anything except seeing you this afternoon and taking possession of Mrs. Wells’s things as she asked in her will. You may rest assured, gentlemen, that after this meeting, the incident will be closed.”

Isabel had been listening to everything and had finally composed herself enough to ask for the documents so that she might read them.

“Isabel, your mother is gone,” Alexander said. “I honestly think that it is not important for you to read them. It is more important for you to forget them.”

She realized Alexander was right: It would do no good
for her to mull over circumstances. She could see the pattern emerging of how Kate had manipulated herself and everyone else into the situation. It was her ultimate bid for attention.

Alexis squeezed her hand. She still looked very pale.

Isabel turned to Captain Papastamati and said, “Thank you very much for coming to see me and for all that you did for my mother. It only remains for me to take possession of her things. Where are they?”

“My instructions, Lady Hyatt, those that were left in the will, are to deliver them to you and you only. I have had them taken out of storage. They can be delivered to you within the hour or sent anywhere you desire.”

“Please have them sent here.”

Isabel signed ten documents, realizing why Alexander had been asked to stay.

Alexis stroked her hair and said, “Alexander and I have read everything. These documents are simply releases freeing the shipping company, the captain and the doctors who buried your mother in the manner that they did, of all responsibility. They are quite in order and I think it best that you sign them. We have no desire to cause these people any further trouble.”

He handed her his fountain pen and, with a trembling hand, she signed wherever she was told. Ten documents, ten signatures. It was over.

Alexis thanked the men for everything they had done to make Kate’s last hours as comfortable as possible. He sent Isabel off to lie down while he offered the men a drink. Just as Isabel was stretching out on the bed, Gamal arrived saying that Sir Alexis had sent her two tablets to take with a glass of water. She took the pills, feeling quite numb and exhausted.

Isabel could not sleep. She lay there wide-awake thinking about her mother’s funeral. The real funeral. The one that had happened aboard the S.S.
Aphrodite
. Not one of the fantasy funerals that she had spent so many years thinking and worrying about.

Then her thoughts went to her cousin, Natalie. Oh, God, she must tell Natalie, and then it suddenly occurred to her that Alexis was right, there
were
things to be done. Her mother’s sisters and brothers had to be told.

Her mind drifted and she began to imagine Kate’s funeral in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean in the early
hours of the morning. Maybe it was all untrue, all a dream, a fantasy. She would wake up and there would be Kate, and Ava, and letters, and telephone calls, and postcards, and the lies, and the guilt, and more guilt. No, unreal as it all seemed, it was true. They were both dead and gone. Isabel would have hoped for a last sign of kindness, of love, but in her heart she knew she would never find one.