Three Weeks in Paris
“But why?” Anya frowned, looked more perplexed than ever. “Whatever made you do that? It’s not like you. You’ve always been so honest and forthright.”
Biting her lip again, Kay did not respond for a moment. Then slowly, she explained. “I didn’t want to tell him my secrets. I think it’s better if people don’t know … things … certain things about me.”
“Secrets? What kind of secrets?”
“Once, a long time ago, you made a comment to Alexa and me. You said you had always lived by one rule—”
“I remember that day very well,” Anya cut in. “I said that I never show weakness, never show face, and that this had worked for me, especially in business, but also in my private life sometimes.”
“Yes, you did, and it’s been my rule ever since. That’s why I lied.”
“I see.” Anya leaned back in the chair, looking at her steadily. “And what exactly are you hiding from Dr. Boujon?”
“When he asked me if I’d ever been pregnant, I said no, I hadn’t. But that’s not true. I was pregnant once. Do you think he realized that when he examined me?”
“I’m not sure—” Anya paused, troubled. She studied Kay for a split second, then asked, “You lost the baby?”
Kay took a deep breath. “I had an abortion.”
“Oh, Kay.”
“Don’t look like that, Anya. Please, Anya, please. I was abused when I was very young. When I got pregnant I was only … twelve.”
Anya closed her eyes convulsively and sat very still for a long while. When she finally opened her eyes she thought the garden seemed just a little less sunny, as if the light had somehow dimmed. What a world we live in, what monsters some men are, she thought. Her face was no longer happy and laughing as it had been earlier, had become unusually somber, etched with dismay. And then her eyes filled with compassion and sympathy as she quietly regarded one of her favorite pupils.
Kay exclaimed, “It wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t!” and her voice was now high-pitched, almost shrill, and she grew agitated once more.
“Darling Kay, I know it wasn’t your fault. I know that without your having to tell me.” Anya reached out, put her hand on Kay’s, her touch gentle and reassuring, she hoped.
Looking at her steadily, she saw that Kay’s face was drained, whiter than usual, and she said after a moment’s reflection, “Will it help to talk about it, do you think?”
“I’ve never told anybody … only Mam knew,” Kay whispered.
Anya squeezed her hand, then sat back, poured more tea for them both. She was silent, waiting. Waiting for Kay to feel comfortable enough to speak to her about this most painful and heartbreaking matter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
IT TOOK KAY A SHORT WHILE TO COMPOSE HERSELF.
She sat back in the chair, took several sips of the fresh tea Anya had just poured, and forced herself to relax. Slowly her agitation and anxiety receded.
Her gaze was level, her voice steady as she looked across at Anya and said, “I think it’s best if I start right at the beginning. My mother worked for a fashion designer in Glasgow named Allison Rawley. I was about seven when she first started as a saleswoman. But after a couple of years, Mam was running the shop. You see, Anya, she was a good organizer and manager. Anyway, Allison had a close friend, a titled woman who was English. They’d been at boarding school together, and she sometimes came to stay with Allison, and, of course, she bought things at the shop. This woman, who was a lovely person, offered my mother a job running her house, with Allison’s approval, of course. She thought Mam was efficient and capable. I was ten at the time.”
“And your mother accepted the job?”
“Yes. How could she refuse? It sounded fantastic. The house was on the Firth of Forth, near a place called
Gullane, about thirty minutes by car from Edinburgh. Her ladyship told Mam there was no problem about us—Sandy and me—that we could go with her and that we’d have our own quarters in the house. My mother saw it as an opportunity to better her position in life, earn more money, get us out of the city and into the countryside. There was a local church school in the village, and everything sounded wonderful. So she took the job.”
Kay paused. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that house, Anya … it was so beautiful, inside and out. The grounds were magnificent, and there were views of the Lammermuir Hills and that vast stretch of water … the Firth of Forth. It was magical. But there was a problem in that house, at least for me … his lordship.”
“Was he the one who molested you?” Anya asked softly.
Kay nodded. “Not at first. And later, when he did, if his wife was at the house, he was very careful. But her ladyship traveled a lot. They had a flat in London and a country house in Gloucestershire, so she was often away. It all started when we’d been living there for about a year. I was ten and a half by then. At first it seemed almost accidental, you know, he would brush against me, squeeze my shoulder, stroke the top of my head in a fatherly sort of way. But then he began to waylay me in the grounds, in the woods. He … he touched me … you know … in the intimate places.”
Not wanting to break the flow of her words, Anya simply nodded.
“After a few really bad incidents, I began to struggle all the time with him, and I protested vehemently. He vowed to sack my mother, send us all away if I didn’t do what he wanted. He said he would send us into penury, and I didn’t know what that meant and I was scared to death. I also knew what the job meant to Mam, to us as a family. Where would we live if we had to leave? And where was
Penury? For the longest time I thought it was some awful place.”
“And you never told your mother? Or anyone else?” Anya ventured.
“I was too afraid to say anything … afraid of him … of what he might do to us. And could do to us if he wanted. He was a powerful man, and we were poor, vulnerable, alone. Dad had been dead for years and we had only Grandma in Glasgow and she was poor.”
“Oh, Kay dear,” Anya murmured. “How terrible it must have been for you.” Her face was bleak as she spoke, her eyes pained.
“It was horrendous, and very frightening. Then, as time went on, he became bolder, more aggressive, and he went further with me. I tried to hold him off, and I never stopped protesting and shouting and being voluble. But he shut me up. He was strong, and persistent, and he threatened me with dire trouble if I didn’t do exactly what he wished. My only respite was when his wife returned from London occasionally.”
“Did you feel you couldn’t tell her about this?”
“How could I? Anyway, who would believe me? The daughter of the housekeeper accusing the master? Certainly she wouldn’t have believed a word. I would have been branded a liar. I might have even been accused of coming on to him, Anya. Think about that. My mother would have been dismissed. So I steeled myself to his attacks, and stuck it out, hoping and praying he would never come back whenever he went to London. He always did. When I was almost twelve, he finally went, well, he went the whole way, Anya. He raped me one Saturday afternoon when my mother was in Edinburgh with Sandy.”
Kay stopped again, took a sip of tea. After a few moments, she murmured, “That happened several times and I was in panic, very upset. Traumatized, I think, looking back.
Then one day I missed my period, and I knew that what I’d feared had finally happened. I was certain I was pregnant. I was out of my mind with worry, and really terrified.”
“And so you finally told your mother?”
“I did. I had no alternative. She was wonderful with me, and appalled about what had been going on. But she didn’t blame me at all. She was in a fury, and flew into a blind rage when she went to see him. Straightaway, she threatened him with the law. She accused him of molesting a minor, said she was going to the police and that she would hire a solicitor in Edinburgh. She vowed to sue him. At first he denied coming anywhere near me, but there were no other men on the estate and we were in an isolated spot. Well, there were the tw
o gardeners, but they were old, and the rest of the staff were women.”
“So your mother went to the police.”
Kay shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She was about to do so, when his lordship offered her … a deal of sorts. He said he would send us to a doctor he knew in Edinburgh, one who would perform an operation on me, and that he would pay for it. He offered my mother three months’ severance, and told her that we must all leave. Immediately.”
“What happened? Did your mother accept, Kay?”
“No. She told him she’d think about it, and then in the end she turned it down. I suppose my mother was really quite a clever woman, even though she hadn’t had a lot of education. Suddenly she understood she was holding all the cards. His lordship sat in the House of Lords, in London, he was a businessman, and very well known socially. He moved in all of the top social circles, and so did her ladyship. When she realized this, she made a counteroffer.”
“And what was it?” Anya asked, leaning closer, her eyes fastened on Kay.
“She made sure she had all the information about the doctor in Edinburgh, and had him make the appointment. Then she told him that what he offered wasn’t enough for what he’d done to me … years of abuse, molestation as she called it, and rape. And rape over and over again, that had resulted in my pregnancy. She told him she wanted—” Kay broke off, took a deep breath. “A million pounds.”
Anya gaped at her. For a moment she was speechless. At last she managed to say, “Did Alice get it? Don’t tell me she actually got that much money?”
“No. She had asked for a lot because she knew she would have to bargain with him and she wanted room to maneuver. In the end he settled for four hundred thousand pounds.”
“Good God!”
Kay nodded, then smiled faintly. “It was a lot of money, Anya. I think even my mother was surprised. She was expecting to settle for much less … about a hundred thousand.”
“He must have been frightened out of his wits to pay that.”
“I believe he truly was. He was a successful man, but he didn’t have the kind of money his wife did. She was heiress to a vast industrial fortune. The last thing he wanted was to be exposed, at the center of a big scandal. Nor did he want to lose her money. Her ladyship was nice, I told you that, and if my mother had sought the help of a solicitor, gone to the police, she would have ultimately believed us. Not him. And she would have divorced him. I’m sure he realized that. Finally.”
“And so he paid up?”
“Oh, yes. My mother wouldn’t leave until his checks had cleared. Then we packed and went to Edinburgh, where Mam found a small flat for us all.” Kay sat back, shaking her head, then she sighed, stared at Anya. Without flinching, she said, “It was blackmail. I recognized that when I was older. My mother saw an opportunity to help me, not only then, but in the future. And so she blackmailed him.”
There was a silence.
Everything was very still in the garden. Not a leaf stirred, nor a blade of grass. Nothing moved at all. Even the birds were quiet.
But Anya’s head buzzed with all that she had heard, and mostly she thought of Alice Smith, resorting to such a terrible thing as blackmail. And then she dismissed such a silly thought. What that depraved and sickening man had done to Kay was infinitely worse, and who could blame Alice Smith for demanding recompense? For that was what it really was. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, she thought. Such violence and depravity against a mere child would have caused some people to commit murder. Who could blame Alice for what she had done? The man had been monstrous, obscene.
“The money was used for your education, that’s what Alice did with it. Didn’t she?”
“Yes, and Sandy’s. Some of it paid the rent of our little flat. And the fees for Harrogate College and your school here in Paris. Mam used it only for me, never for herself, except for the rent in the beginning. She always worked hard, and she saved. And the remainder of the money, which she’d put in a savings account at the bank, went to start my fashion business later.”
“Alice was wise, Kay, very wise, and in so many different ways. But the abortion? What happened? You haven’t really spoken about it. Was it botched?”
“I’m not sure. But that’s what worries me, Anya, that the doctor accidentally did something to me all those years ago. Looking back, I think he was a bit inept, he certainly looked seedy, and he smelled of alcohol. Afterward,
I bled a lot and I was in terrible pain for days. My mother almost had to take me to Emergency. At the hospital. But then I started to feel better—”
Kay stopped abruptly, looked away, and when she finally turned back to Anya, her eyes were dark with worry. “What if the doctor did damage me somehow?”
“I suppose he could have, but I think you would have known. Has everything … been all right over the years?”
“Oh, yes, but I’m not sure that means anything. Do you think, I mean, would Dr. Boujon know I’d had an abortion?”
“I told you earlier, I’m not certain, Kay dear. I think he would probably soon spot internal damage if there was any.”
Kay looked at her for a moment, her face suddenly stark, her skin stretched across the bones tautly. Tears welled; she pressed her hands to her mouth and began to cry.
Anya rose and went to her, put her arms around her, endeavoring to comfort her as best she could. Kay clung to Anya, pushed her face against her body, sobbing. Anya soothed her, stroked her head, and eventually she became quieter.
After a few moments, Anya murmured, “He doesn’t know, does he? You’ve never told Ian anything of this.”
“How could I?” Kay whispered. “He knows nothing of my past. My mother created a whole new identity for me, and she had the money to back everything up. He’d die if he knew where I come from—” She paused, laughed hollowly. “The slums of Glasgow. And of course he’d divorce me. I know that.”
“You can’t be sure, Kay, people can be very understanding.”
“I’m not going to take such a chance, rest assured of that, Anya.”
“Words are cold comfort in so many instances,” Anya began gently, stroking Kay’s hair again. “To say I’m sorry this happened to you is just not enough. It doesn’t express the pain and hurt I feel for you, darling Kay. It was horrific, and I can well understand how traumatized and scared you must have been. You were so very young, just a little girl.” Anya’s voice shook slightly with sudden emotion, and she found she was unable to continue.
After a while, Kay pulled away, released her grip on Anya, and looked up at her. “I lived with fear once he’d started on me. But I was a dreamer, you know … I learned to dream in my very early childhood, and it kept me alive. I could escape to a better place.”
“You’ve managed very well … I can’t imagine what it was like for you.… ”
“I learned one other thing, Anya.”
“What is that?”
“I learned to arm myself against the world.”
————
HONORINE HAD COME OUTSIDE to tell Anya she had a phone call, and Anya had gone inside to take it. Kay was alone in the garden.
Her tears had ceased and she sat calmly in the chair, looking at her face in a small silver compact. There were a few mascara smudges around her eyes, and she removed these with a tissue, powdered the area lightly, and refreshed her lipstick. Then she put the compact and other items back in her handbag, and relaxed.
When Anya returned, she glanced at her and exclaimed, “As good as new, my dear. Are you feeling better?”
Kay smiled. “Yes, and thank you for listening, for being so patient and understanding, Anya. It’s helped me.” She paused, shook her head. “You see, I’ve never spoken about that part of my childhood to anyone except my mother. I think I buried it all so deep, it was hard to dredge up. Also, I didn’t want to tell anyone my secret.”
“There’s just one thing I’d like to say. When you see Dr. Boujon again, he might ask you if you had an abortion, so b
e prepared for that. And frankly, Kay, I do believe you should tell him the truth.”
Kay recoiled slightly, and stared at her. “That would be a bit hard for me—”
“You don’t have to give him any of the intimate details,” Anya interrupted. “I mean about the childhood abuse. Just the bare facts. If you do have some internal problem, he must be told your medical history in order to make a judgment.”
“I suppose so,” Kay reluctantly agreed.
“Of course, it’s more than likely he’ll have good news for you, tell you there’s nothing wrong with you, no reason why you can’t conceive.” Anya peered at her. “Then you’ll have to try to relax about getting pregnant. I suppose it goes without saying that adoption is out of the question?”
Kay nodded.
Anya went on. “So often, when a couple adopts a child, the wife immediately gets pregnant. The pressure is off, and I think that’s what does it, helps a woman to conceive.”
“Ian would want only a biological child to inherit the title.”
Anya sat back, thinking Kay was probably right about this, but on the other hand, you never really knew about people. Also, it might not be Kay at all. There was the distinct possibility that Ian might be to blame; he could be sterile, or deficient in some way. She wondered if she dare suggest that he, too, should be tested, and then decided she had better not.
Instead, she reached across the table and took hold of
Kay’s hand. “You’ve been very brave and strong all of your life, Kay, and I’m so proud of you. And I want you to know I am always here for you, whatever you might need.”
Kay was touched, and she responded, “Thank you for those words, Anya, and for being my friend, my one true friend.”
This remark made Anya frown, and she exclaimed, “I hope I’m not your only friend, my dear.”
“Well, sort of … I’m close to my assistant, Sophie, and also Fiona, Ian’s sister, but, well, yes, you are my only really intimate friend.”
How sad that is, Anya thought. She said, “It’s such a pity your little quartet fell apart. You were all so close for three years, and then puff! Suddenly everything went up in smoke. I’ve never witnessed anything like it. And I do sincerely hope the four of you are going to come to terms with the situation, make an effort to set aside your differences and be friends again.” Anya gave Kay a long and pointed look, and finished, “Take it from an old lady, life is too short to bear grudges, to carry animosity inside, so that it gnaws away like a canker.”