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Authors: Roberta Latow

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BOOK: Three Rivers
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“I am happy for that. That is all that I wanted.” He smiled at her. “You will take care of yourself, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course I will.”

“Isabel, I do not want you to forget me,” he said simply. “I have something for you.” He reached up and removed the gold loops from her ears, and from his pocket he took an earring and clipped it on her left ear, then the other on her right ear. He pushed her silky, chestnut-brown hair back and looked at her.

“Well, they do not go with your Tutankhamen necklace, but they do go with my love for you.”

She reached up to take one off her ear and look at it, but he stopped her, saying, “No, please, not now. Let them be a surprise after I am gone. I was very selfish. I
would have left them for you in their box so you would have had a lovely surprise during the journey home, but I could not. I wanted to see how beautiful you would look in them, and you are.”

“Oh, darling, no!” She kissed him and repeated, “No. Never could I forget you.”

He held her close for a few seconds and then released her. “I am sending you home with Gamal. If you need anything or want anything, get in touch with Alexander. He will see that I am found. For the moment, I do not know when I will be in London, but we will talk before I arrive.”

She nodded silently to all he had said.

“Isabel, thank you, darling.” Alexis kissed her hand, but it was almost with disinterest. In his mind he was already far away from her. He left the plane.

Isabel, no different from any other woman, watched her man walk away from her and was horror-stricken. He was gone. She went to the window. He stepped off the stairs, one step on the ground, and into the car. He never looked back. The stairs were quickly rolled away. The stewards had reappeared and closed the airplane’s door. She was buckled into her seat and was on her way to London and her life again.

Alexis, unknown to Isabel, had stopped on a side road at the end of the runway to watch his love take off. He did not leave the airport until he saw her disappear out of sight into a very bright and beautiful, blue, cloudless sky.

That was Sunday at 6:15
P.M.
, right at the time Ava and Kate were having coffee in Athens and making plans for their future and Isabel’s as well.

The two men, Alexander and Anthony, were buckled in their seats at the time of takeoff, having decided not to stay in the cockpit. The three of them chatted about their day and the Crusader castle and Damascus. Then, while drinking champagne, Alexander said, “Isabel, if I may say so, those diamond earrings are the most beautiful things I have ever seen on a lady’s ears.”

Isabel had forgotten about them; she had not even seen them properly yet. She took a small hand mirror from her alligator bag and looked at them, hardly believing her own eyes. They were magnificent. Later, in London, if she went to insure them, she would discover that they
were a pair of eleven-carat, perfectly matched, square-cut diamonds set in platinum and slightly raised above the rim of small, cushion-cut diamonds.

Completely overwhelmed, she made her way as casually as she could to Alexis’s cabin, where she looked at them in the large French mirror. They were utterly magnificent. She found the box on the desk.

It was a Van Cleef & Arpels box and inside was a small card: “just remember I love you. Alexis.”

She could hardly conceive as to what such a gift from a man meant.

She put the box and its precious contents in her handbag. Feeling a bit numb from it all and more than a little frightened, she returned to the main cabin and the two men.

VII

Both fires were built up in the drawing room, the curtains were drawn, there were fresh flowers, the dogs were barking and the telephone was ringing. Isabel was home.

She had thanked Alexander for all his kindnesses over a drink. Now he was gone. Gamal had helped carry the cases into the dressing room. Isabel found it more difficult saying good-bye to him, but now he was gone as well.

The last thing that Alexander did before he’d left was return Isabel’s passport. Now she held it in her hand, her mind flashing back to only a week before, when she had so reluctantly given it to him. She had felt so safe and secure during the week that never once had she thought about the passport. She hadn’t even thought to ask for it back!

She took it and her handbag, and went up into her bedroom. There was a lovely fire crackling in the fireplace, and there were two dozen white long-stem roses in the bowl on the low Japanese table that stood between the Damascus mirror and the end of the bed. They were half-open, and against the room’s dark background their whiteness
stood out brightly. How extravagant of Endo, thought Isabel.

On the bed were laid all the gifts she had received from Alexis. She stood there just looking at them, and then she knew that the roses were from Alexis as well. She turned around to look at them again and, sure enough, lying on a small silver tray near them was a small, white card. She tore it open, almost trembling with pleasure. It read: “All the flowers in the world are for you. Alexis.”

Isabel felt her knees go weak. The tears welled up in her eyes, and slowly she sank to the floor. With the card in her hand, she sat there and wept from the depths of her soul as she looked at the white roses.

She thought of the people in her life who had professed to love her. There was Anthony, who seemed to sum up all her relationships with men, until now. Anthony, who had said, “All the flowers in the world are for me.” There was Kate, who said, “I love you. All you have to do is take me along. You will be my mirror, and I will bathe in my own reflection, your life. You will be famous and rich, and therefore, I will be famous and rich. You must not fail, so that I may not fail. We will have success.” Intense preoccupation with herself, was, in the end, what Isabel’s mother offered.

Ava, who said, “I am of your blood and therefore I must love you and you must love me.” Her pathological narcissism was what powered her aggressiveness. Such people, so in love with themselves, have no room for love for anyone else.

Isabel Wells, who had been running away all her life from one kind of love, while voraciously seeking another kind, had at last to run no more. She had found it.

She sat there in her tears and flowers, remembering something she had read by Mary Gordon: “Where men and women are romantically involved there is a history of signs and gestures, so that the extravagant act, the visible emblem occurs instinctively, quickly. There is a rush of blood that tells us that it is right.”

The stream of tears was only a trickle now, but she sobbed from relief at the thought of never again having to run away from the pathologically narcissistic family and men who had attached themselves to her. How desperate she must have been to have accepted them, to have even become the least bit involved with them. She reminded
herself that they alone were not to blame. She must have met them more than halfway.

She buried her face in the roses, drew in their scent and got up. She went to the dressing room where Endo was unpacking her cases and took from the cupboard a heavy, tobacco-colored, raw silk galabia and a pair of slippers. She went to the bathroom and changed.

Returning to her room, she picked up the great silver-and-amber necklace that Alexis had given her and put it on. She sat on the bed and propped up the pillows behind her. As she was moving about she caught sight of herself in the mirror and thought how Alexis would like her in this robe.

She sat on the bed cross-legged, looking at her gifts. Endo came in, asking where the things were to go. He said that he thought the bumblebee dress was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. She told him how she had received each of the gifts and what a wonderful week it had been. But that there was no job. She could not help herself and confided in Endo, telling him she was in love.

She told him to put the passport in the safe and opened the Van Cleef box to look at her earrings again. She showed her pieces to Endo. If Isabel had been overwhelmed, then Endo was astonished.

“Please, Miss Wells, will you put them on?”

She did and became all excited again. They were just so overpowering. Endo told her that they were the most wonderful things he had ever seen, and fit for an empress.

“They were all good-bye presents from Sir Alexis,” Isabel sighed.

“No, Miss Wells. A gift like that is more a hello present.”

“Oh, do you think so? You clever thing, Endo!” She jumped up and gave him a kiss, she was so overjoyed. Then she showed him the camel photograph. He looked at Alexis and said, “Miss Wells, I am sure that man does not have a banana-colored suit.”

They both began to laugh. At last she was seeing the amusing side of it all. The American, middle-class, not-so-young lady from an immigrant background makes good. Hits the jackpot. Gets the jewels, captures Prince Charming. Good. Life was a gas! Isabel was in love.

She told Endo she was ravenous. He said he knew that she would be and where did she want to dine? She told
him “in style,” and removed the silver necklace, and the gold hoops from her ears. She put on her diamonds, then the diamond bumblebee, and said, “Come on, Endo, we will eat in the kitchen.”

He laughed and said he had dined.

“Well, then I will have a tray here in my room.”

“You know, Miss Wells, with things like that, you may never eat in
my
kitchen again.” And off he went.

Isabel sat there smiling. In the mirror’s reflection, she could see the crackling fire, the lynx-covered bed and herself among her souvenirs. She moved her hair and looked at herself and thought of Alexis’s generosity and their love for each other.

He wasn’t with her, but she did not feel the loss that she might have. He was not gone, he was just absent.

It was strange that everything that she touched on the bed did not conjure up, as most souvenirs do, the memory of something that happened and is gone. When she picked up the bumblebee dress, or the ivory compact, she did not think of the past. She only felt that she had a marvelous gift that was now.

The week that she and Alexis had just had together was over in one sense, but that was merely physical time. She realized that there would never be a past for her and Alexis. There would only be now.

The very first call of the morning was from Cecil Davenport.

“Well, my dear, I just know he has hired you to take over all his museum projects and be the exclusive buyer for his collection.”

Isabel laughed and said, “No, Cecil, my dear, he has not hired me at all. I did not get the job.”

There was a moment of silence and a disappointed voice said, “I do not believe it. It is not possible. Oh, I know! He offered you the job, and for some one of your mad, ridiculous reasons, you have turned him down. Isabel, you did not send him packing, did you?”

“No, Cecil, I did not send him packing.”

“Well, what happened?”

“Well, actually …”

“Oh, I know, you just put him off for some reason. Do you want to discuss it with me? Is that it? Oh, Isabel, I know one thing: He is a clever, intelligent man, and once
he met you and saw how you do things, he would never hire anyone else. Why not have lunch with me today, and we will talk the whole thing over?”

“Cecil, that would be lovely, but not today. I have so much to do. Tomorrow.”

“Fine, The Connaught at one. My dear, you did give me a scare for a moment.”

“Cecil, what a dear friend you are. You always give my ego a boost. Until tomorrow, when I will tell you all.”

The second phone call came from a girlfriend. They had a long gossip, and Isabel told her what a fantastic time she had been given and how happy she was. Her friend was thrilled and said, “Well, you deserve it. It’s about time you met a good man.” They made a date for tea on Wednesday, and the girlfriend promised to keep it all very quiet for the moment.

The third call of the morning was from her publisher. That, so far, was the best call. The film rights to the second Meredith Montague had just been sold. They were both overjoyed.

And on it went. She was still in bed at 11:20, on and off the telephone, when what probably was the seventh or eighth call of the morning came.

“Good morning, Isabel, it is Alexander.”

“Good morning.”

“I have called to see that you are well and ask you to dinner this evening.”

Isabel smiled. “You are kind, Alexander, I
am
fine, thank you. But honestly, I think I
must
stay in and get my thoughts and life back together.”

“Isabel, may I give you a word of advice?”

“Yes.”

“Do not think too much. The world and things move the way they will go. I would like to have you join a party of friends; if you change your mind, please call. You do have my number?”

“Yes, Alexander, you are kind.”

They rang off.

Isabel bathed and dressed and knew that Alexander was telling her not to worry, all was well with her and Alexis. He was turning out to be more a Mayfair cupid than a Mayfair pimp, in her case anyway.

She went up to the studio and saw Joy. They checked
the weaving and went over some enquiries about orders and an exhibition.

Joanna came in with the animals in tow. They had, at last, forgiven Isabel for going away and now jumped and barked and allowed her to greet them. They always did this and were so clever because Isabel really did feel badly when they ignored her in retaliation for her leaving them.

Endo brought the three women lunch trays up in the studio and Isabel asked Endo to join them. She was going to tell them about all the things she had seen in Egypt.

The little working household had a lovely time hearing all about it. They were all such sweet people and so happy for the joy that she showed. That first day when she went to Kan-el-Kalili with André Beshawi, she had bought them each a little gift, which she distributed after lunch.

They were all pleased, and Endo, who had just stacked all the empty luncheon trays in the elevator, said before he went down the stairs, “Now I will leave and she will tell you the best part. She is in love.” He smiled broadly and fled down the stairs.

Isabel could not help but laugh. Endo was always so careful, so discreet in everything, but occasionally he would be cheeky and tease her.

Joy and Joanna were a bundle of questions: When was he coming? Was he handsome? How did she meet him? Could they meet him when he came? What were her plans?

Laughing, Isabel told them she knew nothing except that she was very happy and that, of course, if he came, they would all meet him.

After lunch Joanna went to the library to type up the manuscript. Joy went back to the loom, and Isabel went into the drawing room to read the week’s work that Joanna had typed.

It was there, in the drawing room, that she took the call. It came through from Athens.

“Isabel?”

“Hello, Mother.”

“Isabel?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Isabel, this your mother.”

“Mother, I know it’s you, how are you?”

“I have been trying to get you all morning. Your line has been busy. You must have some phone bill. Well, better you than me. I thought that you would call me last night. When did you get in?”

“I arrived last night.”

“Well, why didn’t you call me last night?”

“I just did not think about it.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You
do
know that I called. I suppose that Chink didn’t even give you the message.”

“Mother, you must not call him a Chink, he is Japanese.”

“Well, did he give you the message?”

“He gave me a list of messages. I never looked at them.”

“Oh, well, if that is the way you want to conduct your business, I just hope you did not miss out on anything. It is a good thing I wasn’t dying and had to depend on that Chink, oh, excuse me, I mean
Japanese
, to get in touch with you. Well, I’ll fix him one day, you’ll see. Listen, I don’t want to waste money talking about that dog. How was your job in Egypt?”

“I did not get the job in Cairo.”

“Never mind, sweetheart, you should always listen to Mother. She knows best. I told you never to fool around with those Arabs and their money. I spit on them, they should all drop dead. Let them go through what the Jews went through. Never mind, darling, they’ll get theirs. If you didn’t get the job, then why did you stay the week and waste the money?”

Isabel sighed heavily and said, “Well, first of all, stop cursing them. If the job had come through, I would not have taken it. Then, secondly, I stayed because I had the most wonderful holiday I could ever have dreamed of as a guest.”

“I knew it, I knew that you went there on a holiday. I don’t know why you have to feel guilty. If you went there to have a holiday, and you did not want me to join you, I can understand. But, to pretend that you were going there on business! You know that I am the first one to tell you to have a wonderful time in your life when you are young. When you get too old, you have nothing. Wait, it won’t be long, you will see. Lie, since when do you have to lie,
to me
of all people? I
knew
when you were so vague about the job and where you were staying. I do
wish that you would stop trying to pull the wool over my eyes. Never mind, I knew anyway. So, you had a wonderful holiday. What was so wonderful about it?”

Isabel wanted to explain, but it was useless. “Oh, there were just so many wonderful things to see and do, and the people were charming. From beginning to end it was a dream of a trip. I am so lucky to have had it.”

“Well, good for you. I don’t suppose you met somebody? I hope you did not get involved with an Arab.”

BOOK: Three Rivers
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