All That Glitters l-3

by V. C. Andrews

  "We must hold on to what we now have. I love you," he said, and kissed me softly on the lips. He lowered his head to my bosom and I held him against me for a long moment before he rose, took a deep breath, and smiled. "I'll send Sally around and then tell Mrs. Ferrier to bring Pearl in later, okay?"

  "Yes, Beau. Whatever you say. I can't think for myself anymore."

  "That's all right. I’ll think for the two of us." He threw me a kiss and left.

  I gazed out the window. The sky was overcast, but the clouds looked light and thin. There would be hazy sunshine and the day would be hot and muggy. After breakfast, I would take a bath and get back on my feet. The prospect of attending Paul's funeral seemed over-whelming to me now. I couldn't imagine mustering the strength, but as it turned out, that was to be the least of my problems.

  Late in the morning, after I had had some breakfast and taken my bath, I brushed out my hair and dressed myself. Mrs. Ferrier brought Pearl in to watch and I let her play with my brushes and combs. She sat beside me, mimicking my every move. Her hair had grown down to her shoulders and it was turning a brighter, richer golden shade every day. Her blue eyes were full of curiosity. As soon as she learned what one thing was, she was asking about another, touching something else. Her bountiful energy and excitement brought some joy and relief to my aching heart. How lucky I was to have her, I thought. I was determined to devote myself to her, to make certain that her life was smoother, happier, and fuller than mine. I would protect her, advise her, guide her, so she would avoid the pitfalls and treacherous turns I had taken. It was in our children, I realized, that our hope and purpose lay. They were the promise and the only real antidote for grief.

  Beau called to say he would be home shortly. Mrs. Ferrier took Pearl out to play in the garden, and I decided to go down so that Beau and I could have lunch on the patio when he returned. I had just rounded the base of the stairway when the phones rang. Aubrey announced it was Toby Tate and I hurried to a receiver.

  "Toby," I cried. "I'm sorry we left so quickly, but—"

  "No one was concerned here about that," she said coldly. "I'm certainly not calling to complain about your behavior. Frankly, I can't imagine any of us caring." The hard, formal tone in her voice set my heart racing. "In fact, Mother forced me to call to tell you she would rather you don't attend Paul's funeral."

  "Not attend? But—"

  "We're sending a car with a nanny we're hiring to pick up Pearl and bring her home," she added firmly.

  "What?"

  "Mother says Paul and Ruby's daughter belongs with her Grandpère and Grandmère and not with her self-centered aunt, so your obligations, your promises, are all over. You can go back to your life of pleasure and not worry. Those were Mother's exact words. Please have Pearl ready by three o'clock."

  My throat wouldn't open to let me form any words. I couldn't swallow. My heart felt as if it had slid down into my stomach and a wave of heat rose from the base of my spine to the base of my head, where it circled around my neck like the long, thin fingers of a witch, choking me.

  "Do you understand?" Toby demanded.

  "You . . ."

  "Yes?"

  "Can't . . . take. . . Pearl," I said. I fought to open my lungs and suck in some air. "Your mother knows you can't."

  "What sort of nonsense is this? Of course we can. Don't you think a Grandmère has more claim to a grandchild than an aunt?"

  "No!" I shouted. "I won't let you take Pearl."

  "I don't see where you have much to say about it, Gisselle. I hope you won't add any unpleasantness and ugliness to our tragedy right now. If there is anyone left out there who doesn't despise you, he or she will soon do just that."

  "Your mother knows she can't do this. She knows. Tell her. Tell her!" I screamed.

  "Well, tell her what you said, but the car will be there at three o'clock. Good-bye," Toby snapped and the phone went dead.

  "No!" I screamed into the receiver anyway. I quickly hung up and then lifted the receiver to dial Beau.

  "I'm coming right home," he said after I gasped and poured out what Toby had told me Gladys Tate demanded.

  "This is what she meant by my suffering twice as much as Paul, Beau. This is her way of getting vengeance."

  "Stay calm. I’ll be right there," he said.

  I hung up, but I couldn't stay calm. I went into the study and paced back and forth, my mind reeling with the possibilities. It seemed hours before Beau finally arrived, even though it was only a few minutes. He came rushing into the study to embrace me and sit me down. I couldn't stop trembling. My teeth were actually chattering.

  "It's going to be all right," he assured me. "She's bluffing. She's just trying to upset you because she is so upset right now. She'll realize what she's doing and she'll stop it."

  "But, Beau . . . everyone thinks I'm Gisselle. They buried me!"

  "It'll be fine," he said, but not with as much confidence as before.

  "We were born in the swamps in a shack. It's not like here in New Orleans in a hospital where babies' footprints are taken so they can be easily identified later. Paul was my husband and he told the world I was sick and dying. He attended my funeral and killed himself, whether purposely or accidentally, because of my death," I rattled, each realization like another nail in the coffin of truth. I seized Beau's hands in mine and fixed my eyes on his.

  "You yourself said that I've done such a good job of pretending to be Gisselle, everyone thinks I am. Even your parents!"

  "If it comes down to whether or not we keep Pearl, we'll confess the truth and tell the authorities what we have done. I promise," he said. "No one will take our child from us. No one. Especially not Gladys Tate," he assured me. He squeezed my hands and made his face tight with determination. It slowed down my runaway heart and eased some of my trepidation.

  "Toby said a car is arriving here at three with a nurse."

  "I'll handle it," he said. "Don't you even come near the front door."

  I nodded. "Pearl," I said suddenly. "Where is she?"

  "Take it easy. Where could she be but with Mrs. Ferrier? Don't frighten her," he warned, seizing my wrist. "Ruby."

  "Yes, you're right. I mustn't frighten the child. But I want her upstairs now. I don't want her outside when they come."

  "All right, but do it gently, calmly," he ordered. "Will you?"

  "I will." I took a deep breath and went out to find Mrs. Ferrier and Pearl. Without going into any detail why, I asked her to bring the baby in and keep her up in her room. Then I went to join Beau in the dining room, but not only couldn't I eat any lunch with Beau, I couldn't bring a morsel of food near my lips. I could barely swallow water. My stomach was that nervous. A little after two, he told me to go upstairs and stay with Pearl and Mrs. Ferrier. My heart was thumping madly. I thought I could easily pass out from fear, but I fought down my trepidation and occupied myself with Pearl.

  Just before three o'clock, I heard the door chimes and my heart jumped in my chest. I couldn't keep myself from going to the top of the stairway and listening. Beau had already told Aubrey he would answer the door. I didn't want Beau to know I was looking and listening in, so I backed into the shadows when he turned and looked up the stairway just before opening the door.

  A man in a suit and a nurse in uniform were there.

  "Yes?" Beau said as nonchalantly as he could.

  "My name is Martin Bell," the man in the suit said. "I am an attorney representing the Tates. We have been sent by Monsieur and Madame Tate to pick up their granddaughter," he said.

  "Their granddaughter is not going anywhere today or any day," Beau said firmly. "She is home where she belongs and where she will stay."

  "Are you refusing to turn their granddaughter over to them?" Martin Bell asked with some astonishment. Apparently he had been led to believe this was a simple assignment. He probably thought he was making easy money.

  "I am refusing to turn our daughter over to them, yes," Beau said.

  "Pardon.
Your daughter? I'm confused here," Martin Bell said, glancing at the nurse, who looked just as confused. "Is the little girl the daughter of Paul and Ruby Tate?"

  "No," Beau said, "and Gladys Tate knows that. I'm afraid she's wasted your time, but be sure you bill for it," Beau added. "Good day," he said, and closed the door on their bewildered faces. For a moment he stood there waiting. Then he went to the window and gazed out to be sure they drove away. When he turned, he saw me standing at the top of the stairway.

  "Were you there the whole time?" he asked.

  "Yes, Beau."

  "So you heard. I did what I promised. I told the truth and I've sent them back. When Gladys hears what I said, she'll back off and leave us alone," he assured me. "Relax. It's over. It's all over."

  I nodded and smiled hopefully. Beau came up the stairs to embrace me. Then the two of us went to look in on Pearl. She was sitting contentedly on the floor of what had once been my room and coloring animals in a coloring book called "A Visit to the Zoo."

  "Look, Mommy." She pointed and then growled like a tiger. Mrs. Ferrier laughed.

  "She imitates all the animals," she said. "I've never seen such a good little mimic."

  Beau tightened his embrace around my shoulders and I leaned against him. It felt good to be surrounded by his strength and feel his firmness. He was my rock now, my pillar of steel, and it deepened my love for him and filled me with confidence. Gradually, as the day wore on, my nervousness-diminished and my stomach stabilized. I realized I was ravishingly hungry when we sat down at dinner.

  Later that night in bed, we talked for nearly an hour before closing our eyes.

  "I regret not being able to go to Paul's funeral," I said.

  "I know, but under the circumstances, it's better that we don't attend. Gladys Tate would only make an unpleasant situation even more miserable. She would create an ugly scene."

  "Even so, someday after sufficient time has passed, I would like to visit the grave, Beau."

  "Of course."

  We talked on, Beau suggesting plans for the future now. "If we want, we can build a new house on a piece of real estate we own just outside of the city."

  "Maybe we should," I said.

  "Of course, there are things we could do to this house to change it as well. In either case, we'll want new memories," he explained. I couldn't agree more. His descriptions of what was possible for us now filled me with renewed hope and I was able to shut my eyelids and drift off, emotionally exhausted and tired down to my very soul.

  I wasn't refreshed when I woke in the morning, but I had regained enough strength to start a new day. I made plans to begin painting again and I thought I would start to buy a new wardrobe, one that fit my personality more. Now that I had driven away all of Gisselle's friends and we were talking about a new beginning, I thought I had the freedom to ease back into my true self and eventually put Gisselle to rest. Those prospects buoyed me.

  We had a good breakfast with an animated conversation. Beau had so many plans for business and for our changes, my mind felt stuffed. I could see where we would both become so busy shortly, there wouldn't be much time to dwell on sadness. Grandmère Catherine always said that the only real antidote for grief and sadness was busy hands.

  After breakfast Beau went upstairs to the bathroom and I went into the kitchen to talk to Mrs. Swann about dinner. I sat listening to her describe how to prepare chicken Rochambeau.

  "You start with preparing the gravy," she began, and went through the ingredients. Just listening to her talk about the recipe made my mouth water. How lucky we were to have a cook with so much experience, I thought.

  Mrs. Swann was clanking dishes and pans as she spoke and walked around the kitchen, so I didn't hear the door chimes and was surprised when Aubrey arrived to tell me there were two gentlemen at the door.

  "And there's a policeman, too," he added.

  "What? Policeman?"

  "Yes, madame."

  My chest felt hot and heavy as I rose.

  "Where's Pearl?" I asked quickly.

  "She's in her nursery with Mrs. Ferrier, madame. They just went upstairs."

  "And Monsieur Andreas?"

  "I think he's still upstairs, madame."

  "Please fetch him for me, Aubrey. Quickly," I said.

  "Very well, madame," he said, and hurried out. I looked at Mrs. Swann, who stared at me with curious eyes.

  "Troubles?" she asked.

  "I don't know. I don't know," I mumbled, and let my feet carry me slowly toward the foyer. Beau appeared on the stairway just as I arrived in the foyer and saw the attorney Martin Bell and another man at the door.

  "What's this?" Beau cried, hurrying down the remaining steps.

  "Monsieur and Madame Andreas?" the taller of the two men in suits inquired. Beau stepped forward rapidly so he would be at the door before me. I saw the nurse who had come the day before standing behind them and my heart sunk.

  "Yes?"

  "I'm William Rogers, senior partner of Rogers, Bell and Stanley. As you know from Mr. Bell's previous visit, we represent Monsieur and Madame Octavious Tate of Terrebonne Parish. We're here under court order to take the infant Pearl Tate back to her grandparents," he said, and handed Beau a document. "It's been signed by the judge and must be carried out."

  "Beau," I said. He waved me off for a moment while he read.

  "This is not true," he said, looking up and attempting to hand the document back. "Madame Tate is not the child's Grandmère."

  "I'm afraid that's for a court to decide, sir. In the interim this court action," he said, nodding at the document, "will be enforced. She has primary legal rights to custody."

  "But we're not the uncle and aunt. We're the mother and father," Beau said.

  "The court understands otherwise. The child's parents are both deceased and the grandparents are the primary legal guardians, therefore," Mr. Rogers insisted. "I hope this doesn't become unpleasant," he added. "For the child's sake."

  As soon as he said that, the policeman moved up beside him. Beau gazed from one face to the other and then looked at me.

  "Ruby . . ."

  "No!" I screamed, backing away. "They can't take her. They can't!"

  "They have a court order, but it will only be temporary," Beau said. "I promise. I'll call our attorneys right now. We have the best, highest-paid attorneys in New Orleans."

  "This court action will be conducted in Terrebonne Parish," William Rogers said. "The child's legal residence. But if you have the highest-paid, best attorneys, they would know that anyway," he added, enjoying his sarcasm.

  "Beau," I said, my lips trembling, my face crumpling. He started toward me to embrace me, but I backed farther away. "No," I said, shaking my head. "No."

  "Madame, I assure you," Mr. Rogers said, "this court order will be carried out. If you truly have any concern for the child, you'd better adhere to the order smoothly."

  "Ruby . . ."

  "Beau, you promised! No," I screamed. I struck him in the chest with my small fists, pummeling him. He grabbed my wrists and embraced me tightly.

  "We'll get her back. We will," he said.

  "I can't," I said, shaking my head. "I can't." My legs gave out and Beau held me up.

  "Please," he said, turning to the lawyers, the policeman, and the nurse, "give us ten minutes to prepare the baby."

  Mr. Rogers nodded and Beau literally carried me along, up the stairs, whispering assurances in my ear.

  "It will be ugly," he said, "if we physically resist. Once we explain who we are, it will all end quickly. You'll see."

  "But, Beau, you said this wouldn't happen."

  "How did I know she would be this vicious? She must be crazy. What sort of a man is she married to for him to let her do this?"

  "A guilty man," I said, and sniffed back my tears. I looked toward Pearl's nursery door. "Oh, Beau, she'll be terrified."

  "Only until she gets to Cypress Woods. She knows all the servants and—"

  "But
they're not taking her to Cypress Woods. They're taking her to the Tates."

  Beau nodded, the realizations deepening in him, too. He sighed deeply and shook his head. "I could kill her," he said. "I could put my hands around her neck and choke the life out of her."

  "It's already been choked out of her," I said, nodding. "When Paul died. We're dealing with a woman who's lost every feeling but one, the desire for revenge. And my child has to go into that household."

  "Do you want me to do this?" he asked, looking at the nursery.

  "No. I'll do it with you so we can comfort her as much as possible."

  We went in and explained to Mrs. Ferrier that the baby had to go to her grandparents. Beau thought that was best for now. Pearl knew the Tates as her grandparents, so I sucked back my sorrow and hid my tears. Smiling, I told her she had to go see her Grandmère Gladys and Grandpère Octavious.

  "There's a nice lady to take you to them," I continued.

  Pearl gazed at me curiously. It was almost as if she were wise enough to see through the deception. She put up no resistance until we carried her down and actually placed her in the backseat of the limousine with the nurse. When I backed away from the door, she realized I wasn't coming and started to scream for me. The nurse attempted to comfort her.

  "Let's get moving," Mr. Rogers told the driver. The two lawyers got into the car and slammed the doors shut, but I could still hear Pearl's screams. As the limousine pulled away from the house, the baby broke loose from the nurse and pressed her little face against the back window. I could see the fear and the torment in her and I could hear her screaming my name. The moment the car disappeared, my legs went out from under me and I folded too quickly for Beau to stop me from crashing to the tile and the comfort of darkness.

  16

  All is Lost

  "Well," Monsieur Polk said after he heard Beau describe our story, "this is a rather complicated matter. Very," he added, and nodded emphatically, jiggling his jowls and his loose double chin. He sat back in his oversize black leather desk chair and pressed his palms against his bear-size chest with his fingers intertwined, the large gold pinky ring with a black onyx oval stone glittering in the afternoon sunlight that came pouring through the thin, white blinds.