'But you were a great success every time you danced,' Mrs. Ransome said contentedly. 'I read about it in the newspapers.'
'Then you don't need me to tell you,' Melanie said.
Mrs. Ransome smiled. 'I was just using it as an excuse to keep you here longer. I hardly seem to see you any more.'
'That's only because I've been away. But when I come back from the States you'll see much more of me.'
'You say that now, but I'm sure you'll find an excuse to stay away.'
‘I promise I won't.' Noticing that Mrs. Ransome's breathing was quick and shallow and there was a blueness about the lips which even the skilfully applied make-up could not hide, Melanie got to her feet. I'm not going to stay and talk to you any more now,' she said firmly. ‘You look far too tired to be bothering with visitors.'
'You're not a visitor, you're my family.'
'Then don't try and pretend you're feeling well.'
Quickly Melanie bent to kiss the rouged cheek, keeping a smile fixed on her face as she made her final good-byes.
Downstairs in the hall the butler was waiting with her coat, luxurious dark mink, and it reminded her forcibly of how far she had come since the first time she had set foot in this house.
'Mrs. Ransome doesn't look very well,' she said as she walked to the door.
'I'm afraid she isn't Mr. Gregory's already brought two different specialists to see her and I understand she'll be starting some new treatment next week.'
Hearing Gregory's name mentioned made Melanie's heart race, but she fought to keep her voice normal and concentrated all her thoughts on the woman who was lying upstairs.
'I hope the new treatment works,' she said. 'I hate going to New York and leaving her like that.'
'I can well understand that, madam,' the buder said formally. 'It's in Mr. Gregory's mind too. That's the reason he's delayed his marriage.'
Half-way through the door Melanie stopped. 'Don't tell me it's been put off again!' she said with an attempt at casualness.
'Only for a couple of weeks. Mrs. Ransome wanted it to be held here, but Mr. Gregory wouldn't allow it. I understand it's going to be a very quiet, family affair.'
'That's the best thing,' Melanie said through lips so stiff that she could hardly form the words. 'I'm sure any excitement would be very bad for my mother-in-law.' The butler nodded, and followed Melanie down the steps to open the door of the taxi that was waiting for her.
Thankfully she settled back in its dark interior, the pretence of calm leaving her now that she was alone. A quiet family affair! The butler's words echoed in her brain making all other thought impossible. The desire to feel Gregory's arms around her and the warmth of his lips on her own was so intense that it required all her willpower not to tell the taxi-driver to take her to his office. She must find a way of ending his hold over her - of making a life of her own. Hard on this thought came the memory of her last conversation with Anton. Was he right when he had said that only in another man's arms would she be able to find oblivion? Was it only with another man's touch that she would be able to forget Gregory? Wildly she stared out of the window. The road was familiar and with a shock she recognized that they were just driving past Anton's flat Was this an omen? Should she stop the taxi and get out - go to Anton and give herself to him? Yes, came the logical answer, it's the only way. But her emotions would not let her give in to this sudden weakness of spirit, and she remained huddled back in the seat, her body wrapped in mink, her heart wrapped in ice.
It was only as she was finishing her final packing that night that she wondered whether she should ring Gregory to find out exactly how ill her mother-in-law was. But fear that he would construe her concern as merely being a desire to talk to him made her dismiss the idea almost as it entered her head. Besides, to talk to him could only upset her at a time when she needed all her confidence to face her American debut
The first few days of her arrival in New York were filled with interviews for the press and television, but after the first rush of publicity had abated she found that Gregory was constantly in her mind. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he would soon be getting married that made her keep thinking of him, and she had only to close her eyes to see him in front of her, only to be alone in a silent room to hear his voice.
Indeed on one such occasion his presence seemed so real that she feared for her sanity, and went rushing down the hotel corridor to Anton's room.
‘You're very easy to take advantage of right now,' he said as she clung to him, her body trembling. 'But I promised I'd leave you alone until we left New York and I intend to keep my word.’
‘Why the scruples?' she asked, keeping her face hidden against his shoulder.
'Because I want your respect even if I can't have your love.' He tilted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. 'If only you weren't so innocent, Melanie, it would be much easier for me.'
'Innocent?' she said bitterly. 'How laughable that I should have suffered so much and yet still be innocent.'
'Six weeks from now I'll remedy the innocence!' he promised, and pushed her firmly away from him. 'Now go back to your room and stop trying to seduce me. I'll need my strength for tomorrow.'
Thinking of the premiere, she shivered. 'Suppose we flop?'
'Supposing the moon falls out of the sky,' he retorted, and with a lithe movement opened the door and pushed her out. 'A glass of milk and a sleeping pill,' he called after her as she went down the corridor. 'It's important you have a good night's rest.'
But though Melanie followed Anton's advice she only slept fitfully, and at dawn she was so wide awake that she sat by the window and watched the sky lighten. The central heating was overpowering and the double glazing kept the window-panes warm, yet even so she knew that outside it was bitterly cold with that special biting wind that was so much a part of New York. The tall steel and glass skyscrapers made it difficult to see the sun, but she was able to watch the changing colour of the sky, and was absorbed by the way the buildings seemed to come to life as light and shadow moved across their surfaces, giving a sudden sheen to a plate-glass window or depth to a smooth surface of steel. Far below came a faint drone that grew steadily louder as the traffic, like a living beast, stirred into wakefulness and writhed and moved its way through the sharp-angled intersections of the city.
She decided to dress and go down for breakfast, unable to bear the confines of her room, and she was half-way through the door when she went back for her coat, deciding to do as most other members of the company did and have breakfast in the drugstore opposite the hotel.
A little later, perched on a stool in the warm, brightly lighted drugstore, she felt happier than she had done for a long time. It was still too early for any other members of the company to be here and she was surrounded instead by young girls gulping down a cup of coffee before going to their offices, and harassed- looking businessmen either doing the same or ploughing their way through a concoction of bacon, pancakes, eggs and maple syrup.
By the time she had finished her own breakfast - a much more modest affair of bacon and eggs - the places at the counter were beginning to be filled by members from the company, and conversation was entirely restricted to the premiere that lay ahead of them tonight.
For the first time in several weeks Melanie had an opportunity to talk to Anna, but it was a stilted conversation and bore no relation to the easy comradeship that had once been theirs.
‘What's the matter with you?' Melanie asked bluntly. 'At one time you used to drop into my room and see me, but now unless I go out of my way to talk to you..
Anna looked uncomfortable. 'It's difficult now you're so famous.'
‘What difference does that make?' Melanie asked in astonishment
The other girls would think I'm sucking up to you.'
'Don't be crazy, they know we've been friends for years.'
'It's still difficult,' Anna said. 'Anyway, most of your free time is spent with Anton.'
'I've never refused to se
e you. For heaven's sake, Anna, ballet's the one profession where everybody's equal.'
'Except those that are more equal than others!' Anna retorted. ‘You can't turn back the clock, Melanie. You're a ballerina now. We don't mix in the same league, and after tonight we certainly won't.'
‘What do you mean?'
'You'll be lionized - sought after by every hostess in New York.'
‘You're exaggerating.'
'I'm not. You just don't know what's in store for you.'
They were words that Melanie remembered as, later that evening, she waited nervously in the wings while the audience settled in their seats.
'It's a full house,' Anton said, coming up to her. 'Take a look through the curtain. You've never seen so many diamonds!'
Melanie shook her head. 'I don't want to see them.' Her hands clutched him nervously. 'I'm scared.'
You're always scared on a first night.'
'But this is worse. I've heard New York audiences can be the cruellest in the world.'
'The most cruel and the most generous. Give them your best and they'll take you to their hearts as no other audience in the world.'
Behind him the first, piercing flute notes flooded the hushed auditorium and the curtain rose. Melanie's fears vanished, leaving only the reality of the music, the intricate movements of the choreography and Anton's arms waiting to lift her to the pinnacle of success. With a deep breath she moved forward.
Three hours and twelve curtain calls later, Melanie returned exhausted to her hotel. The rest of the cast had gone on to a champagne supper given in their honour by a prominent socialite, but she had adamantly refused the invitation, declaring that all she could face at the moment was a hot bath and bed.
'That is ridiculous,' Verenskaya said crossly. ‘You will not be able to avoid the parties all the time. You are famous and you belong to your public.'
'They pay to see me dance,' Melanie retorted, 'not to share my private life.'
'A celebrity does not have a private life,' Verenskaya said sweepingly.
'Meet one celebrity who intends to change the rule - not that I consider myself a celebrity anyway.'
‘You are, my child, and you cannot deny it Tonight you achieved your greatest success and there is no going back for you.' The snapping black eyes regarded her appraisingly. 'You have still not made up your mind about Anton?'
'I talked to him before we came to New York.'
'But you are still just friends?'
Melanie nodded. It will probably be different when we return to England.'
'I do not understand the young these days.' Verenskaya waved her arms in one of her dramatic gestures. 'How can you plan a thing like that? You are dealing with emotions, not making a carefully-timed souffle!'
'The trouble is I've got no emotions,' Melanie said bitterly.
You have, my child, but you have buried them. Tomorrow you must remember that you are part of the company and that I will not allow you to run away and hide.' The guttural voice softened. 'I know it is hard for you, but I am doing it for your own good.'
'I realize that.'
The rest of Melanie's words were drowned as the door of her dressing-room burst open and a group of photographers and pressmen surged in.
It was the first time Melanie had been besieged by a determined assault by American reporters who, though not as demanding and rude as their Italian counterparts, were far more aggressive than the British pressmen to whom she was accustomed. Questions were fired at her, seemingly hundreds of flashlight photographs were taken, and it was more than an hour before she at last found herself alone and able to change into her street clothes.
But even outside the theatre she still had to face the ordeal of autograph-hunters, and it was only the concerted efforts of Anton and some of the young men from the corps de ballet, who acted as a living barricade, that enabled her to push her way into a waiting taxi.
Breathless she sank back in the seat, and looked at Anton in surprise as he climbed in after her, slammed the door and gave the driver the name of their hotel.
'Don't tell me you're not going to the party either?' she asked.
'I'll see you safely to the hotel first.'
That wasn't necessary. I'm perfectly all right - just tired.'
'I hope that isn't going to be your permanent excuse! It's important for you to mix with people, Melanie, not only for the publicity but for your own development.'
'I know,' she said wearily, 'and I've promised Verenskaya that I'll do it. But not tonight, Anton. Tonight I've got to be alone.'
Appearing satisfied with her reply, he sat in silence until they reached the hotel, but as he went to climb out of the taxi she stopped him.
'Please don't come in, Anton. I'm perfectly all right.'
'If you do change your mind and want to come on to the party afterwards, do you know where it is?'
‘Yes,' she said with a slight smile, 'but I won't be coming. I'm going straight up to bed.'
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. 'Try and find some tobacco heiress, Anton. You deserve much more than I can give you.'
'In money, yes,' he said puckishly, 'but there are other things you can give me that don't come with tobacco millions!'
She gave a soft laugh and entered the hotel. But once in the lobby, the smile left her face, although she was forced to put it back on again as several of the desk clerics called out to her in greeting. News of success evidently travelled fast in this city, for already several other people in the lobby - still crowded although it was well past eleven o'clock - turned to point her out as she moved swiftly and gracefully to the lift.
It was not until she was alone in her room that she was able to give way to her weariness. Though normally always tired after a strenuous performance, what she felt now was more of a mental enervation, and as such went deeper. Too tired to switch on the lights, too tired even to undress, she merely kicked oS her shoes and lay down on the bed. But no sooner had her body relaxed than her mind took over. Midway between sleep and waking the darkness filled with faces; Mrs. Ransome's pale against the whiteness of pillows, Timothy's flushed with drink, and beyond him Lydia Fenwick in Gregory's arms, the pale, scarlet-tipped fingers caressing the dark hair.
With a cry she sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. Only the light could end the nightmares that were haunting her. But this time the light was not able to save her, for the nightmare was still going on and Gregory was staring at her across the room, his tall body blocking the doorway, 3 faint smile on his face.
With a moan she put her hands to her head, afraid that at last the strain of the past few months had taken their toll of her. She closed her eyes and prayed for her sanity to return, but when she opened her eyes again Gregory's figure was still in front of her, but coming nearer this time, nearer and nearer until he was directly in front of her.
'You're not dreaming, Melanie,' he said, almost as if he had known what was in her mind. 'I'm really here.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Melanie stared at Gregory incredulously, still unable to credit that he was not a figment of her imagination but a living, vital presence, standing in her bedroom only a few feet away from her.
She shrank further back against the pillows. 'Who let you in?'
'The bell-boy. When I gave my name at the desk the clerk sent me straight up. I suppose he took me for your husband.'
The unthinking cruelty of his remark jerked her to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, but when he put out a hand to steady her she thrust it aside in panic. 'How dare you come here! Get out!'
He closed his lids in a gesture of sheer weariness and she noticed, without wanting to, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, lines which had not been there at their last meeting. Then he opened his eyes and stared at her.
'I don't blame you for feeling so bitter about me,' he said quietly, 'but I came here because I wanted to see you - because I wanted to talk to you.'
‘We've nothing to s
ay to each other.'
'I've got some bad news.'
At once she knew what he meant. 'Is it Timothy's mother?'
'Yes. She died in her sleep two days ago.'
Tears flooded into Melanie's eyes and she sank (‘own on the bed. ‘Why didn't you telephone me?'
What was the point? It happened suddenly and you couldn't have flown back in time to see her.'
'I still wish I'd been there. It's awful to think of her dying like that… so alone.'
'She was alone from the time Timothy died; she never wanted to live after he was killed.' Gregory bent forward and, afraid that he was going to touch her, she moved over to the dressing-table where she sat down on the stool and made a pretence of combing her hair.
'I still don't know why you bothered to fly out and tell me the news - or did you have to come to America anyway—'
'I came only to see you.'
'It was an unnecessary waste of time.' Although her voice was cool her hands were shaking so much that she put down the comb. 'I'm very tired, Gregory. If you could see yourself out…'
She kept her eyes lowered, refusing to look in the mirror because she knew she would see his reflection there and was afraid that the sight of him would make her lose her composure. But there was no sound or movement behind her and she realized that he was still in the room. ,
'Please go,' she said huskily.
'I want to talk to you.'
‘We've nothing to say to each other.'
‘I love you, Melanie.'
Her head jerked up and through the mirror their eyes met. Had she imagined his words? Had they been conjured up out of her own intense longing to hear him say them? But the tenderness on his face, the glitter - could it be of tears? - in his eyes told her that it was no figment of her imagination but the strange, incredible truth.
'I love you,' he said again and coming close, put his hands on her shoulder. 'Now that my aunt has died I can tell you the truth.' She still went on staring at him wordlessly and he pulled her up and swung her round to face him. 'Don't you understand?' he said with a touch of his old impatience. 'I'm free. I don't need to marry Lydia.'
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 18
