Queer Patterns
Page 18
“Darling,” Nicoli’s voice broke the silence. “I’ve something to tell you that I think will please you and will perhaps raise you out of at least a degree of your weariness.”
Sheila sat up, and in the expectant manner of a child inquired, “What is it? Tell me!”
“I’ve bought the Alden place for us. We’ll go there as soon as the season is over—and this time it will be our very own.”
“Nicoli, you darling!” Sheila cried excitedly. “It’s marvelous! There isn’t any place on earth I’d rather live. Oh, it’s too grand—I can scarcely wait to leave. How did you happen to get it?”
“I thought you’d feel that way,” Nicoli replied, gratified at the manner in which Sheila had received her news. “So I’ve kept in touch with Mrs. Mason. She wrote me just a few days ago that the house and furnishings were to be sold immediately —I opened negotiations with Mrs. Alden for the purchase of it, and closed the deal yesterday. Mrs. Mason is there now, and will stay on with us.”
“I can’t believe it—it seems like a dream,” Sheila continued. “I’ve thought so often of the days we spent together there and loved it so. How can I tell you how much I’ve wanted to go back? And now to think that we will really be there—it’s all too much like a fairy tale! Darling, it’s perfect.”
Nicoli brought the car to a standstill before the wide entrance of the Sheridan-Plaza. “Run along, now, Sheila; I’ll put the car up.”
Sheila jumped lightly from the car, her eyes flashing with happiness and the excitement of Nicoli’s news. She turned back to take Nicoli’s hand in her own. “Do hurry, Nicoli! I’ve a million things to say to you.”
With a tiny squeeze Sheila released Nicoli’s hand and walked briskly through the doorway and across the lobby to the waiting elevator.
“How precious of Nicoli to decide on the Alden place for us,” she thought as the car carried her upward. “How like her to choose the one place she knew I wanted above all others.” Now at last life would straighten out for them: they would have their home and years together surrounded by the things they both loved. Yes, life would really be heavenly. They would forget everything else and live only for each other.
A glow of happiness warmed her heart; yet, when a moment later she emerged on the eleventh floor she hesitated. For some inexplicable reason her joyousness had vanished abruptly—she felt suddenly a vague uneasiness at entering the apartment alone. Why hadn’t she waited for Nicoli ? But why this capricious bit of presentiment? True, she had been hiding her fears for the past week. “That’s the reason,” she told herself. “It’s just that I have been bottling up all this worry, trying to hide it from Nicoli. I am just being silly.”
She shook herself slightly, inserted the key in the lock, and with thoughts of their new home once more flooding her brain, she mechanically fixed the latch that Nicoli might enter. Walking through the velvety blackness of the tiny hall she stepped into the living room, her hand seeking the light switch on the wall beside the door.
As her fingers found the button and flooded the room with light, firm hands gripped her throat, forcing back the cry that tried in vain to break through. A maniacal laugh broke the stillness as sinewy fingers tightened their vise-like hold with fatal intent on the body of the woman to whom life had only a few minutes earlier promised so much. Sheila fought desperately to escape, but to no avail. Her thoughts revolved in a crazy whirlpool as she struggled against the darkness that was gradually stealing over her, numbing her senses. She was only vaguely conscious of the wild mutterings of the man whose voice she knew too well. Above that sound clamored her own thoughts, calling for Nicoli, summoning her despairingly.
Time was getting… so… short. “Nicoli—I need you… now.”
The pressure of the death-giving hands tightened. Sheila made a last feeble attempt to release herself—then her limp body sank into oblivion.
An exultant cry burst from Allison’s lips. With a triumphant thrust he threw her lifeless body from him.
At that moment Nicoli stepped through the door. Her eyes took in the full horror of the scene—then a ringing cry broke from her lips. She rushed forward. Allison turned quickly toward the French doors which promised the only means of exit, and running wildly across the room, he flung himself through them.
There was a frantic shriek as he realized too late that the doors led to the narrow, low-railed balcony overlooking the Drive; but the force with which he had rushed through sent him hurtling downward.
Shrill cries arose from the crowds in the avenue. Automobiles ground to a screaming stop, drivers climbed hurriedly out, pedestrians surged toward the spot, and voices were raised, cacophonous in excitement. The sound of a wailing siren, the ambulance. Internes and police forced back the unruly, curious crowds to make way for the crushed still form on its narrow stretcher.
*
Far above the confusion of the street Nicoli, after a hurried call for help, sank to the floor beside the lifeless figure of Sheila.
“Why did I call for help?” she asked herself dully as she held the loved body clasped tightly in her arms. What need to summon anyone when already the misty hood of death had fallen over the lovely fair head that lay so still and quiet in her embrace. How futile to attempt to call back the spirit that had so irrevocably been torn from the world… the spirit that perhaps now knew her grief and wanted so sorely to comfort her.
Nicoli’s arms tightened. Her tear-blinded eyes gazed steadfastly at Sheila’s closed ones. If only they might look into her own once more! If only she might read again in their sombre depths the love she had found there in life. If only the full lips could part and her ears might hear the tender tones of Sheila’s low, musical voice.
Nicoli’s broken sobs rent the quietness of the rooms. Each second became an eternity of sorrow as her dazed mind dwelled upon the lost sweetness of their lives together. Gone forever were the dreams of their happiness—destroyed for all time. Only memories would remain—haunting memories mingling with the dust of the empty years to come: years when she would live in a sphere of her own, surrounded by the thoughts of the love that had once given her life—a love whose loss had now created for her a living death.
Tears flowed unrestrained down her cheeks. Convulsive sobs racked her. She murmured over and over, “My darling… my Sheila… why did you have to be taken from me when I love you so? Why, God? Why?”
*
The deep voice of the minister reading the concluding words of the solemn service struck against Nicoli’s unresponsive ears—audible, meaningless sounds, comfortless words.
Her burning eyes dropped again to the jade box which lay clasped in feverish hands in her lap… the box she had given Sheila to contain her jewels, and which now had come back to her to contain her only jewel of great value… the ashes of the woman she loved.
THE END
Table of Contents
PART ONE Philip Rowan
PART TWO Nicoli
PART THREE Allison Graham
PART FOUR The Alden Place
PART FIVE Jo Trent
PART SIX Always
PART SEVEN Dust