Voice of the Heart (111 page)

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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

BOOK: Voice of the Heart
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Katharine blinked, recoiled slightly, and then those unique turquoise eyes opened wider, indicated surprise. ‘Nicky, darling, whatever’s got into you? That’s a nasty thing to say.’ She perched on the edge of the sofa, adopting a nonchalant air. ‘I told you, I’ve been to the Longleys. If you don’t believe me, call them up and ask them.’ She smiled her sweetest smile, her eyes loving, her manner insouciant. ‘Shall I dial the number for you, my darling?’ She half rose, the smile still playing around her mouth. She was fully aware he would stop her, would not lower himself by checking up on her.

‘Don’t bother,’ he snapped. ‘I wouldn’t embarrass either one of us.’ He threw her a scathing look and placed the brandy balloon on an end table. And then he moved with such suddenness, with such swiftness that he took both women by surprise.

Nick stepped forward, rushed at Katharine, gripped her by the shoulders and lifted her bodily off the arm of the sofa, swinging her out and down onto the floor. She gasped. The brandy balloon slipped out of her hands, crashed at their feet. Nick planted her firmly in front of him, stared down into her face, tightening his vice-like grip on her bare arms, his fingers biting into her flesh.

‘You bitch!’ he hissed. ‘You rotten conniving scheming double-dealing little bitch! You come strolling in here with your smiles and your pretty talk and your wiles and your charm, behaving as if nothing’s wrong. And all the while you know what you’ve done. What you’ve done to me.
You betrayed me!
And in the most contemptible way!’

‘Nicky, Nicky, let go of me! You’re hurting me!’ she cried, squirming, endeavouring to wriggle free. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re bruising my arm. Let go of—’

‘You sold my novel!’ he thundered, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and frustration. He began to shake her furiously, so that her head flew back and forth. ‘The novel I sweated years to write, poured my guts into, dredged through my soul to create. The novel I loved the most of
all my books, and which meant the most to me. You took it and sold it to that creep, Mike Lazarus. The man who has been my enemy for years. And Victor’s enemy. What you did is unconscionable. You might as well have taken a knife and stuck it in my heart and held a cup to catch the drops of blood. I’ll never forgive you for this… this act of treachery. I—I…’ He was wild with the hurt and the pain of her betrayal, and unable to continue. His eyes pricked with unexpected tears and for one awful moment he thought he was going to do her bodily harm. He took a deep breath, gained control of himself, and then he flung her onto the sofa with great force, where she crumpled like a rag doll.

‘Get away from me! I don’t want to soil myself by touching you, you two-faced bitch.’ He stepped over the broken glass and went to the window, stood gazing out, shaking from head to foot, his heart clamouring, the blood pounding in his head. Slowly an immense sorrow swamped him, and he knew the love he felt for her was draining, draining away, leaving him empty, and there was nothing in his damaged heart but the sorrow and the pain. And, as he had once hated her years ago, so he hated her again. And he knew there was no going back for them. It was over… the end.

Katharine lay against the sofa, gasping, fighting back her tears, her limbs trembling, her beautiful face ashen and pinched. She tried to think, but her thoughts were confused, running rampant through her befuddled brain. Why was he so angry with her? She stared at Nick’s hunched shoulders, his broad back, wanting to explain, but she could not find the right words. She glanced across at Francesca helplessly and shook her head, as though denying everything.

Francesca was appalled at what she had heard and witnessed. She was terrified to speak, or move, even though she longed to flee. She did not move a muscle, sat paralysed in the chair. And she was afraid for Nick, afraid for Katharine, afraid of what he might do to her. She could not leave them
alone. She groped for some understanding of his terrible accusations, wondering how he had found out.

Katharine was thinking the identical thing. Regaining her strength and her breath, she sat up, straightened the fabulous diamond necklace, and voiced this thought. ‘Who told you about
Florabelle
, Nick?’ She made her voice tiny, childlike, fawning.

He did not respond initially. He turned slowly, looked at her through eyes of ice. ‘Victor.’

‘Oh! Oh well, I might have guessed,’ she murmured and looked down at her hands. ‘I suppose he heard some gossip, and naturally he couldn’t wait to tell you. That’s typical. Now he’s ruined everything, spoiled my pi—’

‘You are preposterous!’ Nick yelled, glaring at her, his mouth shaking. ‘Suddenly, Victor’s at fault, and you cleverly slide your wrongdoing under the rug. Oh God, you—you—’ he spluttered and angrily balled his fists. He took a deep breath, yelled at her, ‘Victor didn’t hear any gossip! Charlie Roberts told him all about the deal. He’s on the final draft, Alexander Vagasy’s been signed as director, and Monarch are making a press announcement on Monday.
Victor got it from the horse’s mouth.
You must have sold the book months ago for everything to be this far along. How could you look me in the face every day, knowing what you’d done? And why did you go behind my back? Don’t answer that last question, I know why. The reason’s obvious!’

Katharine stared at him, her extraordinary eyes bluer than ever and full of tender pleas. Brushing her tumbling chestnut hair away from her face, she said in a clear, bell-like voice, ‘Please, darling, calm down. I started to explain—when I said Victor had spoiled my plans. I was going to tell you about the Monarch deal tomorrow. It was meant to be a wonderful surprise. I know how much you love
Florabelle
, want to get it on the screen, see it made into a film. That’s why
I
bought it in the first place. I thought I could put it together. No one wanted to finance it, Nicky. You’ve been aware of this fact
for a number of years. When I went to Michael it was solely for
you
, my darling. Don’t you understand, it was for
you
, for
us
. He’d been after me to do a film, and I said the only thing I would star in was
Florabelle
. He finally agreed. He put Charlie Roberts to work. I
was
going to tell you tomorrow night. I even have Dom Pérignon—for the celebration I’d planned. And next week I was going to present you with the finished script. Charlie’s final draft. I’ll have it by then. But my beautiful, wonderful surprise has gone awry, because Victor told you first, and you’ve taken it the wrong way, and now you suddenly hate me. I haven’t done anything terrible—except think of you, as I always do.’ Tears brimmed, trickled down her cheeks, and her top lip quivered like a hurt child’s as she lowered her head demurely.

Nick gaped at her in fascination. He thought: Oh she’s good. She’s very very good. He had just seen a superlative actress at work, watched a performance, and a brilliant one at that. He walked over to the sofa and stood looking down at her. A faintly ironic smile played around his mouth and his voice was dangerously soft as he said, ‘You did it for me, Katharine? As a wonderful surprise for me? And Victor spoiled your fun?’

Her head lifted and she proffered him a radiant smile through her misty tears. She nodded. ‘Yes, darling, of course.’ Believing she had convinced him, missing the underlying threat in his tone and manner, she reached out, touched his arm.

He flung her hand off him angrily and stepped away from her.

‘You’re a liar!’ he hissed. ‘A goddamned liar, and a cheat! Whatever your true motivations were I’ll probably never know, but I do know one thing. You didn’t do anything for me. As always, it was for yourself, your own selfish ends. I also know something else—’ He paused a beat, came back to the sofa.

Nick brought his face down close to hers. ‘You’re having
an affair with Mike Lazarus. And you’ve been having one for years!’ In a lightning move, he yanked at the diamond necklace, clutching it in his hand before letting it fall back against her bare neck. ‘Some badge of honour!’ he intoned with immense disdain. ‘So you’ve joined the long line of his whores, have you?’

Katharine was horrified and she shrank back into the cushions, brought both of her hands to her throat, covering the necklace. For the first time he noticed the diamond bracelets glittering on her arms.

As if she had been pulled upright on a tight string, she now sat rigid and straight and assumed an air of imperious dignity. ‘I am not having an affair with Michael. We are business associates, that’s all.’

Nick snorted with derision and strode to the fireplace. He had regained a degree of his self-possession, and unexpectedly he began to laugh. It was hard sardonic laughter that echoed the expression on his bleak face. ‘Don’t start playing the grand lady with me, Katie Mary O’Rourke. I know where you’re coming from. And I know you’re screwing around with Lazarus. But what the hell, you’re well matched, I’ll concede that!’

‘You’re insane!’ Her voice was as cold and as hard as his, her face suddenly inscrutable.

‘Come on, Katharine, stop lying in your teeth. I’ve put the many intricate pieces together. There’s been talk, items in the trade gossip columns. Why, even Victor saw you having dinner with him at La Scala last year. Very intimate little tête-à-tête, from what I hear. And there’s your own behaviour, which has been mighty suspicious—’

‘Victor Mason again!’ she screeched, flinging her head back, her eyes blazing. Something snapped in Katharine and she lost control. ‘I’m sick and tired of hearing that name. Victor Mason would say anything about me as long as it discredits me. He’s jealous. He’s always been jealous!’

Nick’s face underwent a vast change, and he peered at
her intently. ‘
Jealous.
Vic’s jealous? You’ve got to be out of your tiny mind. And if anybody present is insane, it’s you. We’re well acquainted with
your
insanity.
Jealous
!’ He laughed hollowly, shaking his head.

‘Of course he’s jealous. I dumped him and he’s never recovered from the shock. Women don’t leave Victor Mason’s bed voluntarily. They wait tint—’

‘Are you trying to tell me you slept with Victor?’ Nick interjected, his face now a picture of incredulity. ‘Well, well, well, this is one for the books.’

‘Yes, I did sleep with him.’

‘I don’t believe you. I would have known.’

‘How could you have possibly known? You’re not omnipotent. You were here, in the States. It happened when your sister was killed, when we were making
Wuthering Heights.

He felt the hackles rising on his neck and a horrifying thought twisted, snake-like, in the back of his racing mind. He glanced at Francesca, who sat pale and shrinking and huddled down in the chair. She returned his penetrating look stonily. He swung back to Katharine, poised on the edge of the sofa, erect and combative. His eyes were narrow slits in his keen intelligent face. ‘You’re making it up… to hurt me. I can—’

‘No, I’m not! I slept with him. He got there first, Nicky.’ She spat the words out with a feline hiss. ‘I not only had a raging affair with him, I was pregnant by him. Carrying his child. His child, do you hear? And I had an abortion. It’s true, Frankie knows all about it. Tell him it’s true, Frankie darling.
Tell him it’s true
!’

Oh my God, Nick thought. No. No. No. His chest tightened and his blood turned to icy water in his veins. Very slowly he pivoted, gazed at Francesca speechlessly. She too could not speak, merely inclined her head, then averted her drawn face.

Nick studied Katharine, perceived the triumphant glitter
in her febrile eyes, the ugly, cold little smile on her face which had become a mask of deceit to him. ‘You told Frankie you had an affair with Victor? That you were pregnant by him?’

‘Yes. I tell her everything. She’s my best friend.’

‘And when did you make this announcement to her, Katharine?’

‘The summer of 1956. That’s when I was pregnant. We were staying at the villa. Frankie was the only person I could tell. After all, Victor was back with Arlene.’

A numbing coldness crept through him. He said to Francesca, ‘And you believed her?’

‘Yes,’ Francesca whispered.

‘You shouldn’t have. She lied to you.’

Francesca gasped, her eyes flaring with shock.

Katharine screamed, ‘I did
not
lie. I was pregnant by him. Almost three months pregnant.’

‘You may have been pregnant,’ Nick retorted in a sorrowing tone, ‘but it was not
Victor’s
child.’ He leaned forward, impaling her eyes, and slowly his mouth lifted in a sneer. ‘
Victor Mason is sterile.
He has always been sterile. He can’t make any woman pregnant.’

Francesca cried, ‘Oh my God,’ and fell back against the chair, clenching her hands.

Katharine laughed. ‘Oh Nick, why do you want to absolve him always?
Sterile
? That’s a joke. He has two sons.’

‘Ellie’s sons,’ he shot back, his voice a whiplash. ‘Ellie’s husband ran off, a month after they were married. Deserted her. Her brother introduced her to Vic. They were construction workers together. Vic and Ellie fell in love; she started divorce proceedings. Then her husband was blown to bits in an explosion in the Texas oil fields. It happened about a month before the twins were born. Vic married Ellie immediately. He brought up Jamie and Steve as his sons, and he has been a wonderful father to them, but they were never his flesh and blood.’

Francesca had risen and was clutching the mantelpiece. She swayed slightly, and Nick steadied her, put his arm around her. ‘Are you speaking the truth, Nick?’ she managed, her voice cracked. ‘Swear to me on your honour that you are?’

‘Yes, darling, I am,’ he said sadly. ‘If only you’d told me then, Frankie. If only you’d told Vic. Things would have turned out so differently.’

Watching them closely, Katharine realized Francesca was unusually upset, and that her anguish had nothing to do with the quarrel which had just taken place. She said falteringly, ‘Is something the matter, Frankie? What does Nick mean? What’s he talking about?’

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