Last Resort

by Susan Lewis

  David’s exhaustion showed in the paleness of his face and the deepening lines around his eyes. He sat with his head in his hands, staring down at the floor. He had never felt so impotent in his life.

  ‘Would you like some food?’ Gabriella offered, curling her long legs under her as she leaned back against the pillows. Her raven hair fell in an exquisite sweep over the side of her face; her full, red mouth shimmered in the glow of the bedside lamp.

  David shook his head, then, getting up from the bed, he slid his hands into his pockets and went to gaze out at the night. He wondered what Penny was doing now and felt his heart sink. She’d be worrying about him, of course, and the fact that he hadn’t called.

  Gabriella waited, watching him, her eyes branded with malice and with a pain that had long ago been poisoned by the bitterness that now consumed her. ‘Would you like me to spell it out for you?’ she said sweetly.

  ‘No,’ he answered.

  But she did anyway, using words and a tone that lacked any kind of finesse or sensitivity. ‘Your pathetic little romance with Penny Moon is finished,’ she said. ‘There’ll be no more jetting off across the world playing the big hero, no more shacking up in desert-island hotels or Riviera villas. She’s history for you, David. You make a single attempt to contact her again, you’ve got my word on it: all deals are off. Do you hear what I’m saying? You want my help, then you do things my way. And that goes for Pierre too, so you can forget any ideas you might have of getting him to contact her for you, because, you’d better believe me when I tell you, I have ways of finding out that you haven’t even dreamt of. And if I find out that either of you has as much as picked up a phone you can kiss goodbye to your freedom – and your children.’ She smiled as he flinched; then she continued. ‘Oh, Penny Moon can carry on with that pitiful little magazine you’ve got going over there in Cannes, we’ll need someone to run it for us, but the minute I say she’s out, she’s out! Have you got that?’

  When he didn’t answer she went on, savouring every moment of the power she had over him. ‘I’ve waited a long time for this, David,’ she said, ‘but it’s been worth all the agony I’ve put myself through just to see you suffering the way you made me suffer, you bastard.’ Her voice was now thick with hatred and spite; her dark eyes were flashing with the corroding fire of resentment she had raging inside her.

  ‘You never were able to keep that dick of yours under control, were you?’ she sneered. ‘You had them all, didn’t you, David? You screwed the whole god-damned lot of ’em – my friends, my enemies, anybody’s wife, girlfriend, mother, daughter – you just didn’t know when to stop. You never cared about me or the way you were humiliating me; all you ever cared about was yourself and which of the whores you could stick it into next. Well, you’re paying for it now and, let me tell you, you’ll be taking a vow of fucking celibacy by the time I’ve finished with you should you ever even speak to Penny Moon again. So, get it into your head now, David, your screwing days are over. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn. But just so you don’t think I’m completely without feeling, let me tell you this: I intend to be there for you. I’m going to see you through this and if you keep your freedom I’ll take you back into the bosom of your family. You see, I still want you, David. You’ve still got me panting for you even after all this time. I’d lie right here and let you screw me now if that was what you wanted, but you don’t, do you? Well, maybe you’d like to reconsider that, because I’m getting horny just thinking about what all this is doing to you.’

  At last David turned to look at her. ‘Tell me about the boys,’ he said quietly. ‘How are they? Has Jack started his new school?’

  ‘You want to know about the boys,’ she said, sneeringly, ‘you’d better ask nicely. So why don’t you come over here and sit down?’

  ‘Gabriella, you’re demeaning us both doing this,’ he said, staying where he was.

  ‘Hah!’ she cried, tossing her head back. ‘You think I care about demeaning you after what you did to me?’

  Frowning, he closed his eyes and pushed his fingers into the sockets. ‘You’ve got to stop doing this, Gabriella,’ he said wearily. ‘Can’t you see, it’s hurting you every bit as much as it’s hurting me.’

  ‘All I can see,’ she said, savouring the malice, ‘is a man on his way to jail unless he gets himself over here right now.’

  He waited, watching her, as she began slowly peeling off her clothes. She was still a stunningly beautiful woman with a body that could tempt a saint from chastity.

  When she was naked she lay back on the bed and, spreading her legs, looked up at him. ‘You want me, David, don’t you?’ she said thickly. Then, laughing, she cupped her breasts in her hands. ‘You can pretend all you like,’ she said, ‘but I know you, David. You can’t resist me. Even after all I’ve put you through, you still can’t resist me. So why don’t you just forget about Penny Moon? Come over here and remind yourself what it’s like to make love with a real woman.’

  Slowly he walked over to the bed, the urge in his groin pushing him on. Then, putting a hand either side of her, he lowered his face to hers until they were only inches apart. ‘I’d rather go to jail,’ he hissed; and, snatching up his jacket, he walked out of the room.

  Early on Tuesday morning Ruth Elliot, one-time editor of Starke magazine and temporary editor of Nuance, arrived at the villa to take Penny to the airport. It was just getting light and a low-lying mist hung over the gardens as she pulled up in front of the house. The door was open and Penny’s bags were already on the steps outside, so Ruth got out of the car and went to open the boot. She could hear voices coming from inside the house, then Penny came out and checked the luggage to make sure she had everything.

  ‘Last-minute instructions for the cleaner,’ she said as Ruth came to pick up her bags.

  She lifted her head and smiled and Ruth felt a quiet shock pass through her. Though they had spoken frequently on the telephone these past few days, this was the first time she had seen Penny since she’d arrived back on Friday and she felt as though she were looking at another woman. Penny’s tan had all but disappeared, leaving her skin pale and ravaged with exhaustion. Her sunny, blue eyes were dull and red-rimmed, though whether with tiredness or from crying it was impossible to say.

  Ruth wasn’t a woman given to prying, nor to handing out advice when it hadn’t been sought, but in this instance the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘Penny, are you sure you’re up to this?’ she said, her grey eyes looking worriedly into Penny’s face. ‘I’m sure we can find someone else to go . . .’

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ Penny assured her, looking at her watch. ‘Do we have time to stop by the office to pick up a lap-top? I meant to ask you to bring—’

  ‘It’s in the car,’ Ruth told her. ‘But really, Penny . . .’

  ‘I’m OK,’ Penny said firmly and started towards the car.

  As she got into the passenger seat Ruth put the bags in the boot, then slipped into the driver’s seat and fastened her belt. She hadn’t even turned the car round before Penny launched into a barrage of questions concerning Nuance. Ruth answered them all, never once mentioning the fact that they had discussed all this, at length, over the weekend.

  By the time they reached the autoroute Penny had fallen silent and was staring out of the window at the early-morning traffic. Every now and again Ruth glanced over at her, wondering if she should give in to the common sense that was telling her to come off at the next exit and take Penny back home whether she liked it or not. She was in no doubt that were David there he would tell her to do just that. But David wasn’t there, which was of course what was causing the problem.

  Ruth had no idea where he was, though she did know something of what had gone on, for Sylvia had filled her in before she’d come down here. She wished there was something she could say to Penny to help ease her suffering, but she sensed that even if she could find the words Penny wouldn’t welcome the intrusion.

&nb
sp; ‘So how are you getting along with Marielle?’ Penny suddenly asked.

  Ruth grimaced. ‘She’s a bit of a handful, isn’t she?’ she answered.

  Penny laughed. ‘Just a bit. How did she take it when you told her I was going to New York instead of her?’ she asked.

  ‘Actually, better than I expected. She seems to have mellowed a bit since you got back.’

  ‘I wonder why!’ Penny remarked drily, thinking that she would leave it until after Christmas to fire Marielle, since it wouldn’t be a particularly charitable thing to do during the season of goodwill. The thought of Christmas caused her heart to contract and, retreating into silence again, she turned back to the window.

  At last they arrived at Nice airport, but, when they pulled up outside the terminal building, though she turned off the engine Ruth made no attempt to get out.

  Penny sat quietly gazing down at her lap. She was dreading this trip and would have given almost anything not to go, but, she kept reminding herself fiercely, life had to go on.

  ‘David wouldn’t want you to do this, you know?’ Ruth said gently.

  ‘But it’s not up to David, is it?’ Penny answered, lifting her heavy eyes to look straight ahead.

  Dropping her head for a moment, Ruth wondered if she should push it any further. In the end she said, ‘I don’t understand why you have this compulsion to go. It can wait, Penny. We can always find another interview to substitute—’

  ‘It’s all set up with Luke Pleasance now,’ Penny cut in. ‘And I’ve a lot of other people to see while I’m there.’

  After a moment Ruth tentatively put out a hand and laid it over Penny’s. ‘I’m not going to ask what happened this weekend,’ she said, ‘but I do think you should speak to Sylvia before you go.’

  Penny’s heart twisted as she turned to look at her. ‘Why? Has she spoken to David? Does she know where he is?’ she asked desperately.

  Ruth shook her head. ‘No. At least, not as of last night.’

  Penny’s eyes moved blindly to their joined hands; then, attempting to smile, she said, ‘He’ll call when he can and in the meantime I have to keep things going here. I promised him I would . . .’ Her voice failed her for a moment; then, forcing her smile wider, she said, ‘He’ll probably call the office when he finds I’m not at home. You’ve got my number in New York, haven’t you?’

  Ruth took a breath and, nodding, she said, ‘Yes, I’ve got it.’

  At last Penny brought her eyes to Ruth’s and Ruth felt her heart falter as she saw the bewilderment and pain Penny was trying so hard to control. ‘I know you think I’m crazy for going,’ she said, ‘but, believe me, I really will go insane if I sit around here waiting to find out what’s happening.’ She blinked rapidly as tears welled in her eyes. ‘I don’t even know if he’s still in France,’ she said, brokenly. ‘For all I know he could—’ She stopped; then, with a sudden flash of impatience, she made herself go on. ‘I know I look as bad as I feel, but it’s only lack of sleep. I’m fine really and I’ll be a whole lot better once I get on that plane. I won’t be able to stare at a telephone then or wake up terrified that I haven’t heard it ring. And he’ll call me when I’m in New York, I know he will.’

  ‘But what if . . . What if he’s calling to say he has to go back to Miami? Don’t you want to be here to say . . . well, to see him before he goes?’

  Penny shook her head. ‘If he calls to say he’s going back to Miami,’ she said, ‘he’ll be going straight away. He won’t come back here first. So I might just as well hear it in New York, where at least I’ll be doing something positive for Nuance’s future. And if he’s calling to say it’s all OK, that the miracle has happened, then he’ll fly out and join me.’

  Ruth smiled, as though to inject some warmth into the brave yet distant hope in Penny’s voice. ‘Well, if you need to talk, I’m always at the end of the phone,’ she said. ‘And if I hear anything, anything at all, I’ll call you straight away.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Penny smiled, ‘I’d appreciate that.’ But in her heart she knew that David would call her himself, that he wouldn’t just go without saying a word, not when they meant as much to each other as they did.

  Chapter 26

  NEW YORK WAS ablaze with all its legendary Christmas magic. Santas of all descriptions and ethnic origins peppered the busy sidewalks, ringing their bells and booming out Christmas cheer, while sleet settled in tiny, glistening stars on their fluffy beards. Every store front, every office block and every hotel was a glittering mass of coloured lights and gaily wrapped parcels. Giant Christmas trees, laden with bright silvery balls and glossy fake snow, stood resplendent in their glory in every public place. The wintry night sky was speckled with icy raindrops which fell in the bitter wind over the teeming, noisy, steam-filled streets.

  Penny had spent a long time in Bloomingdales, hovering around a strange, Red-Indian artefact that for no accountable reason she thought David might like. It was the third time she’d been back to look at it, each time certain she would buy it. But once again she had come away empty-handed, afraid that if she parted with her $300 before he called it would be tempting fate too far and she’d end up with it for ever.

  She was nearing the end of her trip now. The interview with Luke Pleasance was on tape, the other meetings she’d arranged had all taken place and the new contacts she’d hoped to make had been made. The trip had been a success, but the toll it had taken on her was enormous.

  Now, as she tried to flag a yellow cab to take her back to the hotel, she felt so ill, so debilitatingly weary and weighted by fear, that the lively seasonal cheer seemed like a cruel mockery of her pain.

  The wind was slicing into her skin, her cheeks were icy cold, her hands and feet were numb. She’d only been standing there a few minutes, but already she was chilled through to her bones. The winking neon lights blurred in front of her eyes, the roar of traffic crescendoed in her ears and as the distant roofs of the tower blocks started to circle and swoop she thought she was going to pass out. A cab came round the corner. She tried to lift her hand but her arm was too heavy to move. Rain, mingled with tears, dripped from her nose and chin, ran down her neck and slithered in icy tendrils under her collar.

  Dimly she was aware of an inner voice struggling to make her obey, telling her to pull herself together, if only to get her back to the hotel. She tried to react, to push her way through the enervating layers of nausea and lethargy, but it was as though her movements, together with the hustle and bustle, the noise, the weather, were all happening in an unsteady whirl of slow motion.

  ‘Are you all right, ma’am?’

  Penny turned her head and watched two Santas’ faces merge into one. ‘Yes,’ she heard herself say, but the sound of her voice was muffled by the fuzz in her head.

  ‘Here,’ he smiled, holding a car door open for her.

  Penny looked at it and blinked.

  ‘You did want a cab, didn’t you?’ he asked.

  ‘Thank you,’ Penny said hoarsely. Then, as she started to climb in, it was as though a thick veil briefly parted and everything slipped back into focus. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she said to Santa, smiling back over her shoulder.

  ‘To you too, ma’am,’ he responded cheerily. ‘Where are you going?’

  Penny gave him the name of her hotel, which he promptly relayed to the taxi driver; then he waved her on her way.

  A few minutes later she was in her room, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and crying as though she would never stop. There were no messages again and she just didn’t have the energy to deal with it any more. She was exhausted to the point of collapse, yet her mind just kept on and on going round and round in circles, swirling and spinning, swooping and swooning, churning her stomach and blackening her thoughts. Never, even in the gloomiest, ugliest and most painful moments of her life, had she ever felt like this before. It was as though someone, or something else entirely, had taken over her body and was trying to push her out.

&n
bsp; That David’s silence should be affecting her as badly as this was terrifying her, for there were times when she felt so crushed by the panic that her breath wouldn’t come. She knew it wasn’t normal to feel this way, that no matter how much she loved him, however desperately she wanted him to call, it shouldn’t be affecting her physically like this. But it was and all she wanted now was to go home.

  The car came late the following afternoon to take her to Kennedy airport. Mercifully there were no delays and once she was on the plane her anxiety subsided and she slept throughout the flight back to France. She had felt the beginnings of flu stealing in for the past couple of days, but as she stepped off the plane into the clear, crisp sunshine of the Riviera it was as though a cloak of darkness was being lifted from her mind and, with it, the lead weights from her limbs. She was home now, back where she belonged, and with only two weeks to go until Christmas she had a lot to get on with.

  She took a taxi to the office and was treated to the kind of welcome normally reserved for returning heroes. Ruth popped some champagne, but though Penny tried hard to join in with the spirit of things the champagne made her feel nauseous and the clamour reverberated through her head as if it was trying to break out of her skull. She didn’t ask anyone about David or Pierre: the closed door of their office told her all she needed to know. Neither of them had returned. It was almost two weeks now – two weeks in which she had been to hell and back, wondering what was happening to him and where on earth he might be. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that he had gone without calling, but neither could she think of a reason why he hadn’t.