“Sweetheart, listen to yourself! You’re paranoid!”
“Oh no, I’m not! She wants me to throw myself off the balcony. She’s planted this vile idea in my head and now I can’t get it out again—”
“You’re sick.” He turned to Lewis. “All this stress has pushed her over the edge.”
“I work with a doctor,” said Nicholas subtly before Lewis could speak. “Do you think I should contact her?”
“No, no!” said Kim, backtracking rapidly as he realised he had no desire for anyone else to be involved in the crisis. “No, I’m sure we can sort this out without additional professional help. Carter, is this why you intend to spend the night here—because you’ve developed a phobia about the balcony?”
“I’m spending the night here because the flat’s totally uninhabitable! And by the way, I don’t want you going back there at present.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve polluted my beautiful home with your lies—you’ve lied and lied and lied—and worst of all you’ve collaborated with that disgusting woman in a plan to trick and trash me! Damn it, it’s not because of her but because of you that I’ve wound up scared out of my skull tonight!”
“But I swear I had nothing to do with the damage to the flat this evening—”
“You can swear till you’re blue in the face but you’re not going back to that flat yet so you can give me your keys! I know you’ve got the spare set—you’d have collected them from the porter in order to get into the flat just now!”
“Sweetheart—please! What do I have to do in order to get you to be reasonable?”
“TELL THE TRUTH!” I yelled. “What was it that drove you to go to Oakshott tonight? What was it that Sophie knew and never managed to tell me?”
He tried to play for time. “I’m not sure I can talk about that right now,” he said, but I snapped back straight away: “Get real! It was all to do with that occult society, wasn’t it?”
“What occult society?” he said astonished.
VI
I struggled to maintain my momentum. “Sophie said you were mixed up with the occult.”
“Obviously she was just referring to Mrs. Mayfield’s psychic healing. People often use the word ‘occult’ today to describe a whole range of activities which have nothing to do with the occult at all.”
“Very true!” said Lewis, seizing the opportunity to exude sympathy again.
“But is that the whole picture?” murmured Nicholas vaguely. “Isn’t the reality a little more complex than that? In my experience the milder forms of so-called ‘occult’ involvement can lead insidiously to more dangerous forms, including corrupt versions of Gnosticism. People can easily be drawn out of their depth.”
“Not people like me,” said Kim. “And if I wanted to join a society which specialised in weird rituals I’d take up Freemasonry. The business contacts would be a lot more useful.”
These statements were so rational, so drenched in common sense, that I decided I had taken a wrong turn. I tried to get back on course. “So the stuff which Sophie never managed to tell me about had nothing to do with your occult involvement?”
“I’ve never been involved with the occult.”
“I mean—”
“No, it had nothing to do with my involvement in New Age healing. It was about something which happened before I ever met Mrs. Mayfield.”
“So what the hell was it?”
Unexpectedly he rose to his feet and moved to the window as if his tension was so great that he could no longer remain still. Without looking at me he said: “Mrs. Mayfield gave you a hint during that conversation you had with her this afternoon. But she served it up with a twist which wasn’t true because she wanted you to abandon the idea of having children.”
My heart began to beat very fast. “You mean the impotence story?”
“Yes.” He turned to face me again. “It was true that there was a period early on in my marriage when I did suffer from a prolonged bout of impotence,” he said, “but that wasn’t because Sophie wanted children and I didn’t.”
“Then what caused the impotence?”
“Guilt. It was my fault that Sophie became sterile,” he said, exhausted, and slumped down on the window-seat as if the confession had taken his last ounce of energy.
VII
Stiff-lipped I said: “What happened?” By that time I was starting to feel sick.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and screened his face with his hands. “I picked up gonorrhoea during the first months of the marriage. I thought I hadn’t passed it on to Sophie but I had. She just showed no symptoms.”
I was silenced. Nobody moved. Finally Kim wiped the sweat from his forehead, let his hands fall and said in a rapid, uneven voice: “The truth came out in the end—when the damage had been done. If I’d told her at the start . . . but I didn’t. We did try to set the tragedy behind us but the marriage never recovered and after a while the guilt hit me. That was when I became impotent and that was the problem Mrs. Mayfield cured and yes, I’ve known Mrs. Mayfield for very much longer than I chose to disclose to you. So the rock-bottom truth is that there was no back trouble three years ago, no stress-related medical problem which arose out of an increasing obsession with my Nazi background . . . and no fidelity to Sophie even before she and I started sleeping apart. I’m afraid my first marriage was very far from being the uneventful, painless arrangement that I led you to believe it was.”
I was still beyond speech. I could only listen as he added desperately to Lewis, the assigned sympathiser: “I just couldn’t bear the idea of Carter learning about this disaster which showed me in the worst possible light as a husband. I love Carter, I’ve been faithful to her, she’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me—and that’s why I’ve been so determined to make a fresh start, that’s why I’ve tried so hard to prevent Carter hearing about the Kim Betz whom Sophie knew. I wanted Carter to love me for the man I really was, deep down, the man I now feel I can claim and become. I wanted to keep her quite separate from that other person, the shit who’d mistreated Sophie and messed around in the world of Mrs. Mayfield.”
There was a pause. To my horror I found there was a lump in my throat and tears were burning my eyes again. I stared down at my clenched fists.
Lewis said at last, choosing his words with care: “Thank you, Kim. How hard it is, isn’t it, to speak frankly of very painful matters.”
“Just a moment,” I said. I was still struggling with the urge to cry but I was determined to force my emotions out of sight. “There’s something I still don’t understand. Why did Mrs. Mayfield agree to help you keep me and Sophie apart? You acted to protect our marriage but Mrs. Mayfield obviously wants to bust it up.”
“Her main aim is to draw me back into her world. She’ll help me now in order to soften me up and then she’ll take care of the marriage later—or so she thinks. But of course I’ll never let her do such a thing.” He turned to Lewis again. “You understand what I’ve been saying, don’t you?” he said urgently. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done, I want to start afresh, I want to live very differently in future. Surely as Christians you and your colleague can only give me your support?”
“Wrong move!” I cried at once, my tears forgotten. Shooting to my feet I said strongly to Nicholas: “It’s time to switch on the scepticism— he’s just using Christian doctrine to manipulate you.”
VIII
Kim shouted: “That’s not true!” but Nicholas was already standing up. The swift grace of the movement reminded me again of an actor, confidently dominating his chosen stage.
“Wait!” he said with an authority impossible to ignore. “We’ve clearly reached the stage where we need to take a break and get some sleep. Kim, you can be sure that we take very seriously everything you’ve said and that we’re anxious to give you and your wife every support. Carter, let me assure you that we always consider the possibility of manipulation in these cases.”
>
“Oh, spare me the butter-smooth diplomacy!” I said angrily. “Why don’t you come right out and condemn him for what he did to Sophie?”
“I’m not in the business of passing judgement,” said Nicholas evenly. “I leave that to God. What I will say is that in my opinion Kim’s revelations need no further comment. He committed adultery. The innocent suffered. There were tragic consequences. Doesn’t this very painful morality tale speak for itself?”
I opened my mouth only to find I had nothing to say. Meanwhile Nicholas had turned to Kim.
“We plan to go to the flat at nine tomorrow morning,” he said. “Is it possible for you to join us there so that we can all work together to ensure there are no further disturbances at the flat?”
“Excuse me!” I said in fury. “What right have you to invite any person to my flat, particularly a person I don’t want to see there at present?”
“I’m sorry,” said Nicholas at once. “That was insensitive of me, but—”
“Yes, it damn well was!”
“—but since Kim has admitted his part in the disturbances I think it makes sense to enlist his help in setting the flat right. It’s an opportunity to involve him in the healing process.”
“Well, of course I’ll do anything I can to help,” said Kim immediately. “Carter—sweetheart—give me a break, can’t you? I really, truly hate being cut off from you like this—”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m being vile to you but I can’t stop myself, I’m still too upset. Could you hand over those keys now, please?”
“But sweetheart—”
“To be frank, Kim,” said Lewis, “I wouldn’t want to return to that flat tonight, if I were you. There’s nothing more depressing than returning to a home that’s been vandalised, as any victim of burglary will tell you, and if you choose to spend the rest of the night in a hotel I’m sure you’ll be doing yourself a favour.”
I saw Kim again seize the opportunity to climb down without losing face. “That makes sense,” he said. “Okay, I’ll go to a hotel now and join you at the flat tomorrow at nine.” And to me he added: “Don’t forget that you’re the most important person in my life and I love you.”
I grabbed his arm as he turned towards the door. “You still haven’t given me the keys!”
“Look, I’ve agreed to go to a hotel—”
“Give me the keys! ”
He sighed heavily but produced the ring holding the key to the Tower and the key to the flat. “I don’t want to fight with you, sweetheart. It cuts me up to see you so upset. I’m very, very sorry.”
Once more I murdered the desire to cry as Kim said civilly to the clerics: “Thanks for your patience. Sorry I beat up on you in the beginning.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll see you out,” said Nicholas before Lewis could volunteer, and led the way into the hall.
Lewis immediately retrieved his notepad and began to write his summary of the interview.
IX
“He would never have given you permission to take notes,” I said. “I suppose that was why you never bothered to ask for it. Do you think he killed her?”
“We don’t know for a fact that she was killed by anyone.” He looked up as Nicholas returned to the room.
“What did you think of him?” I persisted. “I know you were slobbering over him in order to play Mr. Nice-Guy, softening him up, but what were you thinking while you slobbered?”
“I thought he was a clever man,” said Lewis, “and he certainly seems to be very involved with you, but beyond that I don’t care to venture an opinion at present.”
“Why not? I suppose you think I might have hysterics!”
“If I did, I assure you I’d know better than to say so.”
“God, you’re such a tiger-thumper! How did your wife stand you?”
“She didn’t. We got divorced.”
“Carter,” said Nicholas, resuming his role of diplomat, “can I take you upstairs to join Alice? I’m sure you’re keen to get some sleep.”
“Wait a minute. What’s your opinion of Kim?”
“Some of his statements struck me as being more truthful than others, but that’s par for the course in this kind of case.”
“But what I want to know is—”
“You’re desperate to know where the truth lies, but Lewis and I need time to think carefully about what we’ve heard. So if you’d now like to get some rest—”
“No, don’t try to kick me upstairs again!” I exclaimed, hyping up my annoyance to divert myself from the knowledge that I was feeling increasingly upset. “I refuse to be shovelled off to bed like a small child who’s behaving badly! Anyway I don’t want to sleep upstairs in case I feel driven to fling myself out of a window. Do you have a ground-floor sofa I can use?”
The two men exchanged swift glances before Nicholas said with unexpected gentleness: “I’m sorry, I’d quite forgotten Mrs. Mayfield’s psychological warfare, but let me now take steps to deal with that. The first thing to stress is—”
“Forget it,” I said. “You’re like Lewis. You just think I’m overwrought and hysterical.”
“I assure you—”
“And now you’re being smarmy, trying to handle me with kid gloves as if I were some rubbishy Victorian maidenette—damn it, it’s so arrogant and patronising that I don’t know how Alice stands it! And incidentally, I don’t like the way you’re treating Alice. You’re not playing straight with her, probably because you think you’re the cat’s whiskers and can get away with anything where women are concerned, but let me tell you this, Mr. Whiskers: I don’t find you attractive, so don’t expect me to go mewing in the pews of your church! I can see through you just like that!” I tried to snap my fingers and failed. That was when I realised I was raving. I frowned and rubbed my eyes. “Bloody hell,” I muttered, “I’m traumatised. Excuse me.”
“I’m extremely sorry,” said Nicholas concerned, “that I’ve made such a bad impression on you, but please believe me when I say—”
“I’ll take the tiger-thumper,” I interrupted, unable to stand the butter-smooth diplomacy a moment longer. “He’ll lay it on the line about how to beat the arch-cow’s psycho-crap. Tell him to hang up his thumper and get down to business.”
Nicholas removed Lewis’s pen and notepad. “I’ll finish this in the kitchen,” he said. “You help Carter.”
The moment he left the room I burst into tears.
X
“This proves you’re both right,” I muttered when I could speak. “I am overwrought and hysterical.”
“I don’t recall either of us applying those adjectives to you. Have a Kleenex.”
I grabbed a couple of tissues from the box he held out. “But you’re thinking I’m overwrought and hysterical.”
“I can’t answer for Nicholas, but I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. I’m thinking that you’ve just emerged from an extremely upsetting scene during which your husband made a confession which no newly married woman should be expected to listen to without experiencing a very deep distress. If anyone’s entitled to shed tears at this moment, you are.”
“I despise tears,” I said. “Tears are for losers who haven’t the guts to fight back when life kicks them into the gutter and stamps on them.”
“On the contrary, tears are for everyone, winners and losers alike. Tears serve a very useful function in alleviating emotional stress, and since the subject of stress has come up more than once tonight—”
“I absolutely refuse to believe that poltergeist theory!”
“That’s fine. We accept your refusal. What we’re primarily worried about is how we can help you ease your undeniable stress both now and in the future. That’s why Nicholas was so keen for you to get some rest. After all you’ve been through tonight, rest is essential before we tackle the next phase of the problem tomorrow.”
“But how can I rest when you two refuse to tell me what you thought of Kim, how can I? The whole nightmar
e’s going round and round and round in my head—”
“My dear—no, I’m sorry, I mustn’t call you that, must I, modern women don’t like it. Carter, Nicholas and I probably feel much as you do. We want to believe Kim was being straight with us. But because of his association with Mrs. Mayfield we have to consider the possibility that his testimony tonight contained lies. Now, a lot of people cherish the fairy-tale that liars are easy to spot because they blush or look shifty, but as a businesswoman you’ll know, just as Nicholas and I know, that a really accomplished liar always sounds like a truth-teller. That’s why we have to think so carefully about what we’ve heard tonight. That’s why we have to avoid jumping to false conclusions. It’s the only professional way to proceed . . . Have another Kleenex.”
Having snuffled into a fresh tissue I said: “I loved him so much when he said he wanted to be his real self with me. But I’m going mad not knowing when he’s lying and when he’s telling the truth.”
“Did you believe his confession about infecting Sophie?”
“Yes, that I did believe. It had the vilest possible ring of truth, and I certainly believe he’d go to extreme lengths to prevent me hearing about the disaster.”
“I wonder what the police are making of it all.”
There was a silence. I wanted to confess my lie about tipping off the police, but I found this was beyond me. I could not cope with the thought of the police at all. I had to have more time.
“Even if there’s no evidence that either of you were at Oakshott tonight,” said Lewis, and I could feel him watching me closely, “the police are going to want to talk to Kim as the ex-husband.”
“Sure . . . Hey, can you go ahead and fix my balcony phobia, please?”
“I can certainly try.” To my relief he abandoned the subject of the police and extracted from Nicholas’s desk what appeared to be a handful of necklaces. But when he detached one I saw a little crucifix dangling at the end of a thin chain. “No, it’s not a lucky charm,” he said briskly. “Christians don’t believe in magic amulets. But it’s a device for centring the mind in times of prayer. It reminds us that no demon can withstand the power of Christ.”
The High Flyer Page 29
