‘What kind of joke?’ Katharine frowned.
‘I’ll go into the bedroom, take off my jacket and shirt and stroll out bare-chested. That should give her—’
‘Nicky, no!’
‘Better still, I’ll climb into bed.’ He rose, headed for the bedroom, struggling out of his coat, laughing uproariously.
‘Please, don’t!’ Katharine cried, running to him, grabbing his arm. ‘It’ll be all over town tomorrow. Even if we tell her it’s a joke, she’ll never believe it.’
‘She can print it in her magazine for all I care.’
Katharine stared at him aghast. ‘But—what about Carlotta? You’re in love with her…’
‘Negative.’ He shrugged himself into his sports jacket, gazed down at her, saw the puzzlement and confusion in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms, pressed her head close to his chest. ‘How could I possibly be in love with anyone else when you’re alive and well somewhere in this world. It’s only you. It’s only ever been you, my darling Caitlin, my sweet sweet Cait,’ he murmured, using his old pet name for her.
‘Oh Nicky, no! We mustn’t, we can’t.’
He noticed that despite her strenuous protestations, she clung to him. ‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘Give me one good reason?’
There was knocking on the door. ‘That’s Estelle,’ Katharine laughed nervously. ‘Now promise to behave yourself.’
‘I’ll consider it.’
Minutes later Estelle Morgan was still bouncing up and down like a rubber ball in front of him. Her strident laughter filled the room, and she kept saying, ‘Nicholas! Nicholas! This is great, just great! It’s wonderful to see you. Oh my, are you two—?’
‘No,’ Katharine interjected. ‘We’re not. Now, come and have a glass of wine.’ She linked her arm through Estelle’s, drew her into the seating arrangement, explained softly, ‘We’ve had some bad news.’ Katharine told Estelle about Francesca’s husband, and the journalist sobered at once, adopted a more decorous demeanour.
Estelle said, ‘That’s dreadful. I’m sorry. As you know, Francesca Avery’s not my favourite person, but I don’t wish her any harm. Too bad. Really too bad. Thanks,’ she said to Nick, taking the glass from him.
As usual, Estelle was full of news and chit-chat about the rich and the famous, and she kept Nick and Katharine well entertained for the next half hour. At nine o’clock, Nick suggested they should leave for the restaurant.
‘Of course. I’ll get my bag and a jacket.’ Katharine moved towards the bedroom.
‘I’ll call the house,’ Nick announced, also rising. ‘There might be a message from Nelson Avery.’
To Katharine’s consternation he followed her into the bedroom. Once they were inside and out of Estelle’s earshot, she hissed, ‘Honestly, Nick, what’s Estelle going to think.’
‘Stop worrying. Besides, I do want to call Nanny privately, from this ’phone.’ He took her hands in his, bent down, kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Can I tell Nanny I’ll be home late? Very very very late?’
‘I—I—Oh Nicky, I don’t know what to say.’
He laughed and let go of her hands.
Katharine picked up her bag and a mink jacket lying on the bed and fled without another word.
He lifted the telephone, dialled, stretched out on the bed and eyed his photograph on the bedside table. She’ll have me in person tonight, he thought, and then said, ‘Oh hello, Miss Jessica. Have you heard from Mr Avery?’ His child’s Nanny informed him there had been no telephone calls at all. ‘Fine. I’ll check in with you later. I’m going out to dinner now with friends. I’ll be home late tonight, very late.’
Chapter Fifty-Two
Obelisks of brilliant right pierced the dark sky. An opaque moon dodged in and out between the wind-blown clouds. April rain skittered against the window. Katharine stood in the darkened bedroom, her face pressed against the cool glass, staring out at the magical skyline of Manhattan, listening to the metallic pinging of the rain, the sound of Nick’s quiet breathing as he dozed.
I never wanted this to happen. For his sake, not mine. For me it has been so truly wonderful. Happiness… happiness I never thought possible again. It will last me all the days of my life. But he will be devastated, and there is no way I can ease his pain. Oh God, help me. Tell me what to do. Guide me. Give me the strength and the wisdom to help him.
Tears ran down her cheeks and she brushed them away quickly with her fingertips, swallowing the sob rising in her throat, not wanting to awaken him. My darling, my most beloved Nicky, how am I ever going to tell you?
She thought then of a line by the French poet Lamartine: That voice of the heart which alone reaches the heart. She closed her eyes. My heart speaks to your heart, my dearest darling. It cries out my love for you. My eternal and everlasting love. Listen with your heart, and you will hear mine speaking to you from wherever I am, for the rest of your life. You will always be by my side, Nicky, for you are a part of me, as Vanessa is a part of me…
‘Kath, what are you doing standing there in the dark? You’re going to catch your death of cold. Come back to bed, sweetheart,’ Nick commanded. ‘Immediately.’
‘Yes,’ Katharine answered, making her voice strong, gliding to the bed.
He pulled her down next to him, wrapped his arms around her and then his legs. ‘My God, you’re frozen.’ He bent over her and kissed her face and he tasted the salt of her tears on her cheeks. He smoothed his hand over her wet face, gently and with tenderness. ‘Why have you been weeping, my darling?’
‘Oh Nicky… because I am so very happy. The last two months with you have been the most wonderful enchanted months of my life.’
He kissed her mouth lovingly, softly, the passion in him spent. ‘It’s just the beginning,’ he murmured against her hair. ‘I’ve made my mind up, you know. You can argue with me until you’re purple, but I am going to set the wheels in motion as soon as Carlotta gets back in two weeks.’ He chuckled. ‘You and I are going to grow old together. As man and wife.’
A deep sigh rippled through her and she reached up and smoothed back his hair. ‘You know that’s just a dream, Nicky.’
‘Don’t say that! Anyway, dreams can come true, can’t they? Secretly, in my innermost heart, I think I always dreamed you would come back to me, my sweet Kathy. And you did.’
‘It’s not possible, Nicky. Carlotta—’
He placed a finger on her lips. ‘Sssh. Listen to me. Carlotta’s not going to make any problems. Since January she’s spent more time in Venezuela than she has in New York. I have a feeling she’s met someone. She’s not interested in me any more.’
‘Perhaps. But there’s little Victor. She’s not going to let you keep him, if you split up. And even if she had met someone else, she’s going to take the child with her, especially if she’s going to live in Venezuela. Her family is there.’
‘There’s a bit of truth in what you say, darling, but I’ve already talked to my lawyers. It won’t be quite so easy for her to trip off with the little one. Proper arrangements will have to be made, legal papers drawn, joint custody agreed upon.’
‘I don’t think it’ll work. I think you’re playing a dangerous game.’
‘Let me do my own thinking, Kath. Please, don’t try to think for me. Once I’ve settled everything with Carlotta and the lawyers, we can get married. When shall we get married?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said softly.
‘Don’t you want to marry me?’ he asked in a low worried tone.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! How can you ask such a silly question. But I am nervous, Nicky. About myself. About making a commitment to you. I do want to be sure of my mental state—’
‘You’re better,’ he interrupted fiercely. ‘My God, I’ve been with you night and day, every day for over eight weeks. Do you think I don’t know your mental state. You are rational, composed, stable, and absolutely and completely sane.’
‘If you say so,’ she murmured, nestling closer. Afraid to continue th
is conversation, she faked a yawn.
Nick loosened his grip on her, rolled over and picked up his watch from the bedside table. Unable to see it clearly, he flicked on the lamp. ‘Mmm. It’s late. Shall we go to sleep?’
‘Are you staying?’ Katharine asked with surprise. ‘Won’t Nanny be—’
‘I told her I wouldn’t be home tonight. That I had a meeting out of town. Philadelphia. I’m not in the hit and nm business, you know,’ he said, snapping off the light.
‘I’m glad you’re here, darling. I always like it when you stay.’
He kissed her. ‘Sleep well. I love you, Kath.’
‘I love you too, my darling.’
***
The following morning Nicholas Latimer was in an ebullient mood, his spirits high. Katharine laughed at his one-line cracks and his quips and jokes, and she thought to herself that he had not been so amusing for a long time.
When he was showered, shaved and dressed, they had a leisurely breakfast. Nick scanned the New York Times, and Katharine gazed at him adoringly and drank her tea and her heart was full to overflowing with him.
But at ten-fifteen, she said firmly, ‘I’ve got to kick you out, love. I have a lot to do today, and some shopping. I’m running late.’
‘Yes, I have a few appointments myself.’ He finished his coffee, stubbed out the cigarette smouldering in the ashtray. ‘Where do you want to have dinner tonight?’
‘Nick, did you forget? I’m having dinner with Vanessa.’
‘Yes, I did, I’m afraid.’ He hid his disappointment, knowing how important her daughter was to her. ‘I’ll tell you what though, why don’t I stop off later this afternoon? Around four-thirty. Have tea with you.’ He grinned. ‘You can have tea, I’ll sit and watch you.’
‘Yes, that’ll be fine, darling.’ She walked him to the door, hugged him tightly, then kissed his cheek.
Once she was alone, Katharine went through her usual morning chores. She made a few telephone calls, wrote several letters before taking a bath and dressing. Around noon she took a cab to Tiffany’s, picked up the various gifts she had ordered and went back uptown, to the Carlyle. She ate a light lunch in her suite, made a call to Mike Lazarus to confirm the dinner with Vanessa, then picked up one of Nick’s novels she was rereading. But inevitably her thoughts intruded, and she spent the rest of the afternoon pondering. Finally at four o’clock she changed into a delphinium blue silk dress, brushed her hair, and redid her make-up, then ordered ice from room service.
Katharine heard Nick’s sharp rap as she was slipping the string of pearls around her neck, and she walked rapidly to the door, greeting him warmly. He picked her up in his arms, swung her around, deposited her on the floor. ‘I’ve been to the lawyers, Kath! They think I’m right, that I can get a proper watertight legal agreement—one which will protect the child.’ He held her away from him, grinning broadly. ‘How do you like them apples?’
She smiled, walked over to the bar, poured two vodkas, plopped in ice. ‘Here, darling,’ she said, handing him the drink. ‘Come and sit down.’
He took the glass and followed her. He was frowning. ‘You sound serious. What’s up?’ He stood in the middle of the floor, staring at her.
‘Aren’t you going to sit down? I want to talk to you.’
‘I’ve been sitting all day. I’ll hop around on my legs for a few minutes.’ He laughed nervously. ‘What’s wrong, Katinka? Come on, let’s have it.’
‘I can’t marry you, Nicky.’
‘Don’t kid around with me, darling. I’m not in the mood. If I’ve ever been serious about anything in my life it’s marrying you. Now—’
She held up her hand. ‘I can’t marry you, Nick. I am serious too.’
He peered at her, squinting in the sunlight. ‘But why? Because of the boy? Look, I told you, we’ll settle that in no time at all.’
‘The minute you tell Carlotta to move out, or if you move out, she’ll take that child to Venezuela. And you’ll have one hell of a task trying to get him back. I can’t let you risk such a thing, Nicky.’ She shook her head. ‘I know what it’s like to be separated from one’s own child. I’ve lived through it, remember.’
‘It won’t be like that!’ he protested, pacing up and down, scowling hard.
‘I’m not prepared to risk it. I don’t want it on my conscience. I’ve carried too many burdens these past nine years to go borrowing new ones, darling.’
‘I want to marry you. I’m going to marry you. Goddamn it, Kath, don’t be so stubborn. I’m prepared to take my chances. I can’t give you up because of Carlotta and my son. I love him desperately. But I need you.’
‘Let me pose a hypothetical question, Nicky. Let’s just say I do everything you wish, and Carlotta takes the boy away from you completely, never allows you to see him again. How would you feel?’
‘I’d be heartbroken of course. But that’s not going to happen. Anyway, I don’t like hypothetical questions.’
Katharine took a swallow of the vodka, steeled herself and said, ‘I have nothing to offer you, Nicky, so I’m certainly not going to jeopardize your relationship with your child.’
‘Nothing to offer me! That’s a laugh. I love you. You love me, and we’ve always been compatible, even more so, now that you’re well.’
‘I’m not well, Nicky, that’s the whole point.’
‘But Kath, you are. Your behaviour speaks for itself.’
‘I don’t have any time to offer you, Nicky.’
He looked at her, struck by the strangest note in her voice. ‘Time? I’m not following you, Kath.’
‘I’m dying, Nicky.’
Stunned, his jaw dropped, and he gripped the back of the chair. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He felt every ounce of his strength draining out of him.
Katharine said, ‘I don’t have very long. That’s what I meant about time. Six to seven months, at the most.’
Nick thought he was going to collapse. He staggered to the sofa, unable to tear his eyes away from her. ‘Kath, Kath,’ he whispered. ‘Please, say it’s not true. It can’t be true.’
‘Yes, it is, my darling. I’m so sorry.’
‘S-s-s-sorry?’ he gasped, and the tears spurted. He shook his head vehemently. ‘No! No!’ he shouted. ‘I won’t accept this!’
‘Darling, hush, hush.’ She went and knelt at his feet, resting her hands on his knees, looking up into his face. ‘I wanted to spare you this, Nicky. When I came back, all I wanted was to seek your forgiveness, so that I could die in peace. I didn’t know we would fall in love again. Estelle had told me you lived with Carlotta. I thought you were settled, especially since you had a son.’
Nick’s hands were shaking so violently vodka was spilling everywhere. Katharine took the glass from him, put it on the table, took his hands in hers. ‘I’m afraid I have to ask you to forgive me again, for causing you more pain.’
‘Oh Kath, Kath, my darling, I love you so much—’ His voice broke and tears coursed down his cheeks, and he put his arms around her, clung to her with desperation. ‘You can’t be dying, not you! I won’t let you die!’
She held on to him for a long time, until his choked sobs lessened and he was calmer. Then she rose, found a box of tissues, wiped his damp hands and then his streaming face. She gave him his drink, lit two cigarettes, put one in his mouth, seated herself on the sofa next to him.
It took him several moments to regain a little of his self-possession, and he smoked the cigarette, took a long swallow of the vodka, all the while staring at her. Finally, he asked softly, and with apprehension, ‘What’s wrong with you, Kath?’
She cleared her throat, and her voice was as low as his had been. She told him: ‘I have something called a nodular melanoma. It’s a variant of the malignant melanoma, but the death rate is higher.’
‘I’m not sure what that is… cancer?’
‘Yes. A melanoma manifests itself on the skin. It starts as a tiny mole or a freckle-like spot.’
> ‘But can’t it be removed or treated?’ he asked, filling with fear for her, his heart tight in his chest.
‘Yes, it can be removed, but removing it doesn’t mean I’m cured. You see, my nodular melanoma is at level four. That means it’s three millimetres deep. When the melanoma gets into the bloodstream, one cell will get caught in an organ, such as the lungs or the liver, and it starts growing. That’s called distant metastasis… Latin for spreading. That’s already happened to me. It’s spreading.’
Nick clenched his hand, squeezed his eyes tightly shut, unable to say a word. After a moment he lifted his lids, focused on her lovely face, and the tears sprang to his eyes once more. He shook his head, choked.
She touched his hand. ‘Shall I go on? Knowing you as well as I do, I realize you’ll want all the facts.’
He nodded. His throat ached.
‘The nodular melanoma is on my back,’ Katharine explained. ‘It’s centred between the left shoulder-blade and the spine, about four inches above my waist. It has spread to my lymph nodes, my liver and lungs. Those organs are now diseased.’
‘B-b-b-but you look so well, Kath…’
‘Yes. The fact that it’s spread to my lungs and my liver is immaterial because this does not affect general health. At least not in the beginning.’
‘When will it begin to affect you?’
‘As I understand from my doctors, a person who has a nodular melanoma usually has about a year. For the first nine months or so there’s little deterioration of physical health or appearance. But once the person begins to deteriorate, death can take place within as short a time as one week.’
‘Oh God! Oh Christ! Kath!’
‘I’ll have the ability to function normally for about another six, maybe even seven, months, and there shouldn’t be any visible signs of deterioration.’
‘Treatment. There must be some sort of treatment. Look, we’ll find new doctors. We’ll go to Sloan Kettering, the Skin and Cancer Pavilion of NYU. Surely there’s a way to—’
‘No, Nick,’ Katharine interjected gently. ‘I’ve been through all that in London. You see, treatment is extremely difficult when the melanoma is in the spinal area, as mine is. Radiation is useless, because the tumour is not sensitive to it. Chemotherapy is terribly disfiguring, loss of hair, among other things. It also causes nausea and vomiting. There are new drugs, but they only prolong life a short while, and it’s not a very pleasant life at that. I elected not to take drugs. I’m going to die within a short space of time anyway, so I want to live these last few months graciously, looking the way I look, enjoying the days left to me.’