DeBeers 01 Willow

by V. C. Andrews

  "I have always found that if you ignore unhappiness long enough, it often goes away." Brenda calmly defended herself

  "Did you ever notice a dead bird? One day, it's there, and then the next or a week later, it's often gone."

  "Something ate it or carried it off," Thelma said in a tone of frustration.

  "So what? It was gone, wasn't it?"

  "Oh, give me strength," Thelma said. "Do you see this girl ignoring the unpleasantness in her life? I asked her about her parents, and she told me. She didn't manufacture some tale to hide the ugly truth, did she?"

  "Oh, this is exactly the sort of thing you wanted to hear. Isabel," Bunny said enthusiastically. "Life in Illusion, the Palm Beach Story," she wrote in the air.

  "Really," Thelma said dryly. She fixed her suspicious eves on me again. "I have heard about people corning around here pretending to be one thing or another when in truth they were spies for some family member who was trying to determine what assets she or he might have been cheated out of through some dishonest settlement."

  "She's hardly that." Bunny said, quickly coming to my defense.

  "Maybe," Thelma said. nodding. "Affluent people have to be more skeptical, more cautious by necessity. Remember what Willie Sutton replied when he was asked why he robbed banks."

  "What did he say?" Bunny asked her.

  -He said because that was where the money was. It's the same far us. They came here because this is where the money is, Bunny. Really, you and my sister are two sides of the same coin."

  "I hope it's a rare coin." Bunny said, laughing.

  "Unfortunately, here it is not." Thelma shifted her eves at me again.

  "I'm just a student, Mrs, Carriage," I told her. "I have no other agenda."

  She stared sternly at me, her eves unrelenting. The silence was heavy.

  "I know what," Bunny declared. "I'm going to have a party."

  "What? When?" Brenda asked quickly.

  "Saturday night. There-- it's decided. and Isabel can meet a number of people at once instead of pecking away."

  "Maybe a party isn't a place where people really say and think what they believe." I offered gently. Bunny seemed so excited by her own idea. and I hated to throw any cold water on it.

  "Perhaps in the rest of America that's so: however, it's certainly not true here," Thelma said. "A few glasses of shampoo, and they'll let down more than their hair."

  "I love parties!" Brenda declared. beaming.

  To you, every day is one big party," Thelma said.

  "Well, it is for us, isn't it?" she shot back. The truth of the statement was too hard to deny, even for Thelma, who just pressed her lips together to farm that slash of purple across her face.

  "Perfect, then." Bunny said, clapping her hands together. "Now, let's work up a guest list. We'll keep it small, say one hundred or one hundred twenty-five people.-

  "That's small?" I asked.

  Even Thelma laughed. "This is the party capital of the world." she said. She glanced at Bunny. "I'm not sure you have enough time to do it right."

  "We will. We Bunny insisted.

  "One of the hardest things to do here is make an impression," Thelma explained. 'What might seem like an extravaganza to you and your friends back in Spring City is ho-hum here."

  "Well, this one won't be. We'll have a tent, of course, and set everything up around the pool. We'll get that company to put a dance floor over it, the way the Cooks did at their affair. remember? I want all the chairs decorated with fresh flowers."

  "And lights." Brenda said. "You should string them up everywhere."

  "Right. I will. We'll set up four bars. and I'll get Maxim to cater the food. I'll go right there in the morning and plan the menu. Thelma, you and Brenda should come along with me."

  "I'll see," Thelma said.

  "Have them make things you can't get in any restaurant around here," Brenda said. "I love when people do that."

  Bunny nodded. "And for music... we'll get that twenty-piece orchestra the Grafters had at their affair."

  "You can't book an orchestra on such short notice," Thelma said.

  "Asher will double their fees, or else Thatcher will find a way: he always does. And if that doesn't work, we'll get that black singer who's the rage these days, the one who plays piano. I'll fly him in from New York."

  "Oh, this is sounding wonderful," Brenda cried. "And just in time. too. We had nothing exciting to do this weekend, did we, Thelma?'

  "We have nothing exciting to do any weekend, as far as I'm concerned," she said.

  Then she paused, looked at Bunny for a moment and then at me and then back to Bunny.

  "What?" Bunny asked, a smile on her lips.

  "There's something else going on here. Bunny."

  "What?"

  "I don't know." she said. "You're a plotter."

  Bunny laughed nervously.

  "You're part of some conspiracy," she accused, looking at me. "If I am. I'm not aware of it." I said.

  "Maybe," she said with those skeptical eves hovering on me, making me feel naked for a moment. "And then again, maybe not."

  Bunny looked up at me as if Thelma Carriage had pulled a curtain apart. Then she shook off the thought and went back to discussing her gala event.

  .

  Maybe it was the pressure I felt myself under at the tea, or maybe it was just the spontaneous sea escapade I had taken with Thatcher earlier, but I was so tired I excused myself to take what I thought would be a short nap. When I awoke, however, night had already fallen, and I was shocked to discover it was a little after nine. The moon was casting a luminous ribbon over the ocean as far as the horizon. It was so full and bright, it swallowed the light of the stars around it.

  I wondered where Thatcher was and imagined he had been wondering about me. I went into the bathroom and washed my face in cold water. I felt confused, almost drugged.

  The house was very quiet, and at first I thought Thatcher had simply given up and gone out, but when I went down. I saw him sitting on the rear loggia, sipping a cocktail and looking out at the same moonlight that had impressed me the moment I awoke. He wore a short-sleeve white silk mock turtleneck and a pair of black slacks.

  For a moment. I stood back and studied the way he gazed pensively at the sea. I used to enjoy watching Daddy when he didn't know I was watching. I knew it wasn't fair and that I would not like people observing me this way, but to me it was the best way to capture honesty: faces without protective expressions, bodies relaxed and unguarded, no pretension, no role playing. Daddy was just a man. Thatcher was just a man, but oh, I thought, what a handsome and intelligent-looking one.

  "Hi," I said, coming up beside him,

  "Hey." He rose quickly. "How are you? I was worried about you. I looked in on you, saw you were dead to the world, and let you be. Bunny told me you met the Carriage sisters,"

  "Yes," I said, raising my eyebrows,

  "Thelma can be quite trying, and Brenda is so childlike she's full maintenance, as demanding as a five-year-old." He grimaced. "I heard about Bunny's plans for one of her parties. I'm sorry," he said. '1 don't think that's the sort of thing you were after."

  "That's okay," I said.

  He pulled a chair out for me. "Hung?"

  "Just a little." I said.

  "I thought we might have a bite out here, some simple Mexican food, I had the staff mix up some margaritas for us." He stirred a pitcher and poured me a glass.

  The servents here must have their ears to the wall, I thought, for the maid began to bring out our food almost the moment he filled my glass.

  "What sort of Mexican food?"

  He uncovered each serving dish. "I ordered up some fajitas, enchiladas, a few burritos."

  "This is what you call a bite!" I exclaimed.

  Thatcher laughed. "Nothing is small here, especially egos," he said. "Oh, before I forget. There was a phone call for you."

  "For me?"

  "Yes." He took a slip of paper out of his ja
cket pocket and handed it to me. It was a message from Mr. Bassinger. It just said everything was fine, but I should call him whenever I had an opportunity to do so.

  "I hope there aren't any problems." Thatcher said.

  "No. Its just the family attorney. He checked on my property while I was away."

  "I see. Must be a family friend, too, for him to take a personal interest."

  "Yes."

  Thatcher's eves lingered on me like the eves of someone searching for hidden truths. I avoided his gaze and considered the food.

  "Everything looks and smells so wonderful." "I'm sure it is my parents have a great chef."

  They have their own chef?"

  "Just for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," he remarked. "The only things my mother has ever cooked up are scandals and little social intrigues."

  I laughed. We had a nice dinner and talked quietly. He told me more about his youth, a little more about his sister and her family and about some of his travels. He had been to just about anywhere I would have wanted to go. I had the impression he often had gone with someone. although I didn't think that someone was ever the infamous Mai Stone,

  Afterward, we took a walk on the beach, held hands, kissed occasionally, and then, when he saw my eyes were closing, he suggested we go in and get some sleep.

  "Too much sun and too many margaritas," I said. "As long as it isn't too much of me," he teased.

  "Hardly," I said. His eves brightened, and then we walked back to the house. He saw me to my room and left to go to his suite.

  I was asleep even before I pulled the blanket toward my chin.

  But I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night as if I had a sixth sense that never slept, one that heard and saw and felt things beyond my body. I gazed at the clock and saw it was two o'clock in the morning. Looking out my windows, I saw the moon was long gone, and the stars it had captured in its glow were free to blaze. I rose slowly, almost like a sleepwalker who heard a voice calling to her. I felt myself drawn to the balcony and stepped out into the cooler night air. The sea breeze swirled around me and played with the hem of my nightgown. I took a deep breath and prepared to go back to bed when a light caught the corner of my eye, and I moved to the railing.

  At first, I could see only the light. It looked as if it was moving, but what I understood a moment later was that the light came from a lantern someone was holding and swinging gently from right to left. As my eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness. I realized it was my mother standing out on the dock. She was dressed in a sheer white nightgown that seemed to absorb the starlight and glow.

  What was she doing?

  I studied the inky dark sea before her but saw only the lights of an ocean liner way off. against the horizon.

  Whom was she expecting? How strange it all looked.

  Impulsively. I went back inside. slipped into the robe and slippers Bunny had provided for me. and hurried out. There were lights on throughout the house. but it was very quiet, so quiet I could hear the sound of the surf through an open window. I tiptoed down the stairway and through the corridor to the rear loggia.

  I could see the lantern still swinging in the darkness below, and I started down the walkway toward the beach house, my heart thumping. Almost halfway there, I stopped. What was I doing? How could I just come upon her in the middle of the night like this? Did she even know I was here? Did Linden tell her?

  Would I frighten her so badly she would flee, embarrassed perhaps that I had discovered her out here this late at night? She wouldn't want to see me tomorrow, I thought.

  I stood there debating with myself too long. By the time I started toward the dock again, she had turned away and was heading back toward the beach house. I thought about calling out to her. but I didn't. I just walked more slowly. She disappeared around the corner of the house before I arrived.

  Now that I was down here in a nightgown, robe, and slippers myself. I felt foolish. I started to return to my bedroom, even though I knew it was going to be very difficult to fall asleep after this, Suddenly. I heard a movement and froze, Gradually, I turned back, studying the darkness, perusing every shadow.

  I saw nothing and was about to give up when I heard the sound again and focused my eyes on the dark corner where it seemed a shadow lifted off the walls of the house and took three-dimensional form right before my eyes. Seconds later. Linden walked into the light. The sight of him took my breath away. I gasped and brought my hand to the base of my throat as I stepped back.

  "What are you doing there?" I managed to ask in a very deep whisper.

  "I was going for a walk," he said quickly. "What are you doing out here this late?"

  "I saw... I was on my balcony, and I saw your mother out on the dock."

  "My mother on the dock? This late at night? That's ridiculous," he said. "You must have been dreaming or imagining it."

  He drew closer. He was wearing a light bluejacket. no shirt, a pair of pants, and no shots.

  "No. I'm sure I did."

  "You did not see my mother. You did not," he insisted.

  "Someone was there." I said. "Waving a lantern."

  "A lantern? What is this? Are you

  manufacturing some story to write about?"

  "No, really, I..."

  "I have seen no one on the dock," he said firmly. "and I've been out here a good twenty minutes. The darkness, the lights, the ocean can play tricks on your eyes. Haven't you heard the stories seafaring men told, how they swore they saw their wives and mothers walking on the water thousands of miles from shore and home?"

  He looked out at the sea. "There are just too many reflections, the stars; all of it can tease and tickle your imagination or your wishful thinking, that's all. That's all it was."

  I nodded. "Maybe you're right," I said.

  "Of course I'm right. I've lived here all my life. I should know." He paused and stared at me. "You should go back to sleep."

  "Why are you out so late?" I asked. "It's after two in the morning."

  "I have always had insomnia. Even as a child," he added. "I hated nap time because it didn't work for me."

  "Don't you get exhausted?"

  "You can be what they call overtired and still not fall asleep." he said.

  "Maybe you should see a doctor. then."

  "Don't you think I have? All they can do is prescribe some addictive drug. My mother gives me a cup of hot milk, and that helps, but other than that, it's my particular curse. We all have our private curses to live with. Isabel, don't we?" he asked pointedly. Even in the darkness, I could see how intense his eyes were.

  All I could do was nod.

  "You should go back to bed," he said. "And don't forget our bargain," he added, then turned and walked back to the house, choosing to stay in the shadows as if he were some nocturnal creature afraid of being seen.

  I hurried back inside.

  Why did he insist she wasn't out there on that dock? How could he not have seen her?

  Was I imagining it after all?

  As I feared, I tossed and turned and fretted in and out of nightmares until the first light of morning spread like warm butter over my face and shook my eyelids. I groaned awake and then lay there wondering about all that I had seen and heard just hours ago.

  Had I dreamed it?

  Or was my mother on that dock with a lantern, and was Linden hovering in the shadows?

  Who were they, this mother and son who lived like hermits on this posh estate?

  And how much of what and who they were was in me as well? Was my adoptive mother right about me after all, that I would develop some strange mental malady? Would I end up on a beach at night, staring into the darkness? Maybe for my mother there was nothing but darkness, even on the brightest, sunniest days. Was that my destiny as well?

  Like a reader terrified by the words on the page. I was afraid to turn it and continue,

  But I knew I had no choice. This was my story, too. now. These were my pages to read. I no longer had the luxu
ry of ignorance. I already knew too much, and, like a ravenous glutton. I was eager to keep swallowing whatever new truth I could consume.

  12

  Linden

  .

  I had just started to rise when I heard a gentle

  knock on my door.

  "Yes?"

  Thatcher poked in his head and smiled. He was

  already dressed in a suit and tie and looked chipper and awake. "I'm sorry.," he said. "I would have breakfast with you. but I have to go to Miami today on business. I'll be gone most of the day, but if you're up to it, I'd like to take you to dinner."

  "That sounds good to me," I said. He smiled, looked to his side, and then came into the room to kiss me.

  "It's nice to have someone like you here to greet first thing in the morning," he said softly. "It sort of jumpstarts the day." He kissed me again. "Gotta go,," he said, and hurried to the door. -"Don't let my mother and any of her other friends drive you crazy. Go and do whatever you want, and don't let her talk you into anything," he warned. He waved and closed the door. It opened instantly, and he was there again. I'll have Jennings call you in a minute to see what you want for breakfast. I suggest you enjoy it on your balcony. Did you know Palm Beach has the best sunrise in America? Its rays are directly on the town: nature's spotlight."

  "Oh. really?" I laughed. "You're still playing the role of president of the chamber of commerce."

  "Some people here take that stuff about nature and energy very seriously. Willow. They believe in something called feng shui. Ever hear of it?"

  I shook my head.

  It's an ancient Chinese discipline bringing everyday life into harmony with nature, and that includes interior decorating, how you set up your furniture. Time, space, and action are designed to increase energy, harmony, healing, et cetera, et cetera," he said, waving his hand. "Don't get Bunny started on it. She has redesigned the living room ten times following one guru or another."

  Harmony with nature. I thought. It sounded wonderful. Everyone was searching for some comfort, some sense of security, even the wealthiest among us. I guessed in the end, we were all afraid of being alone.

  "Anyway," Thatcher said. "enjoy the morning, and pretend I'm with you," he ordered with a smile, and was gone again.