Days of Winter (23 page)

And now his nagging anger gave way to an eruption as his attention turned to the contents of the package … to pictures of Magda with Camail, of Magda with Alexis at her side after the opening of the one-woman show, and the newspaper caption about “LONELY WIVES LIVING OUT THE WAR IN THE ABSENCE OF HUSBANDS AT THE FRONT” (a headline that had infuriated Magda and Alexis both, at the time, but which, of course, they’d had no control over). Oh yes, he thought, she’d written him about her wonderful success on the stage and her new source of income, although apparently she’d squandered even that—but this was something else. …

He decided not to waste any time, and when he got home immediately confronted her with the contents of the envelope and package. The clippings caught her eye first, and she realized how they distorted the truth … those charming, so civilized and well-born gentlemen Maurice and Phillip Hack, and their charming and so civilized ladies had done their job well. Looking at Rubin, at the anger … anguish … in his eyes, she was for the moment panicked, terrified of him. …His cheeks were sunken, his eyes seemed never to leave her face. …She tried to explain about Peter Scott and how he introduced her to Camail, and how there had never been anything between her and Alexis, but the more she talked the worse it sounded, and the less he seemed able to believe her. …And then when he told her the truth of their finances, she was dumbfounded. How was that possible? Surely he was joking, though the look on his face clearly said he was not. It was, at that moment, a look of anger on the edge of rage, and rage on the edge of … hate? My God, yes, she’d spent money, but he’d told her they had a fortune, and most of what she’d earned herself she’d given to the war effort, thinking in some way it would help bring Rubin back to her sooner. …

Abruptly he seemed to subside, to look at her like a defeated man, which frightened and, frankly, disgusted her some. She listened without hearing as he repeated that there was no inheritance, that they could no longer go on living where they were, that he’d need her jewels to appraise and sell.

Feeling numb, she went to the safe and took out everything. She put the jewels on the table in front of him. Then, without a word, she left the room, walked down the stairs and out into the brisk afternoon air, forgetting to shut the door behind her.

She needed to think, to collect her thoughts, she told herself, but actually she had only one thought, intrusive, overwhelming. She located a public phone and called Alexis. The phone rang an eternity before …

“…Hello.”

Thank God he was home. “Alexis? This is Magda. I have to see you—”

“Speak up, Magda, I can barely hear you. Is everything all right—?”

“I wouldn’t be calling this way if everything were all right …Alexis … I must see you, I need you … now. …”

“Shall I send a car for you?” Clearly she was in no condition to explain at the moment.

“Yes, I mean no, tomorrow … at ten. Alexis—”

“I’ll be there, Magda. Now, please try—” But she’d hung up.

When she got home she learned that Rubin was out, which she was thankful for. She tried to stay calm, not to think too much about what she was doing, had done, and was grateful for Jeanette’s interruption with some talk about her day in the park with Miss Williams. Magda nodded, smiled and then told her to run along, that mama was tired, needed a rest. Oh my God, how she needed a rest … escape. …

At five o’clock Rubin came home, completely deflated, not a trace of the earlier flare-up. He even took complete responsibility for the fix they were in. He should have taught her more about the value of money before he went off. He told her that he’d sold the jewelry, and added, “Perhaps if we sell some of our other things there will be enough to take a small place. …”

She couldn’t bring herself to answer him.

“And if we pull together—and with Leon’s help, which he’s promised—I can buy a small business or even get started again as a solicitor. …What do you think, Magda?”

She drew in her breath. “Whatever you feel is best …”

The next morning at ten she was waiting for Alexis’ car. When she reached his house his joy was apparent, though he did his best to control it until he’d heard her out.

She didn’t keep him waiting. “Alexis, I’m leaving him.”

His face masked his delight. “And when did you decide that?”

“I think from the moment I saw him … the day he returned—”

“How does one fall in and out of love so quickly, Magda?”

She looked at him, not realizing he wasn’t so much asking a question as testing her … as she was herself. “I honestly believed I did love him. He took me out of one world and put me into another … and I liked the world he seemed to offer me. …When I met Rubin, you know what I was … I’ve kept no secrets from you. But when he got back … well, I finally realized it wasn’t love at all. …I’d fallen in love with the physical part of a man … and his world … I really didn’t even know at all.” She took a sip of wine. “You and I, Alexis, have shared more together … without sex, though I must admit that I did confuse that with love, in fact I thought it was love. Maybe, if he hadn’t gone away it might have grown, deepened, but who can say?”

“In other words, you’ve lived in a make-believe world?”

“Yes.”

“And there isn’t anything to be salvaged?”

“No … I’m sorry, but I simply can’t stand him. I know that sounds cruel, but there’s been cruelty on both sides. …” And she told him about the family, and how Maurice had swindled Rubin, how really cruel they’d been to her, worked from the beginning to destroy the marriage and drive her away. …And how she’d wanted to live in Paris but he’d insisted on staying in London for the family … the damned family that was destroying him too. …“I keep telling myself we’ll both be better off, that with me gone maybe Maurice will change his mind about the money and—”

“And isn’t the money also one of the reasons you want to leave?”

She stopped short, and looked directly at him. “Yes, that’s true, Alexis. I will not lie to you. I’m not going to live without love
and
money. I’ve been through poverty, I’m not going to be poor again.”

“I admire your candor. …And what now?” he said, hoping her answer would be the one he’d waited years to hear.

“I want to live in Paris … I don’t want a special bench in heaven as a martyr … I want to go away with
you
, if you want me. …If you don’t, I’ll go alone—”

“I want you, Magda. I always have, you know that. …But what about your child?”

She hesitated, thinking for a moment that he might properly have been referring to Rubin, who certainly wasn’t a man, not any longer, and she was sorry but, as she’d said, heaven had enough martyrs. …But yes, what about Jeanette, her darling, Jeanette whom she loved but had to separate from before they were all destroyed. Damn it, she was no monstrous, unfeeling mother, but she was a woman and there was no way to preserve the woman and stay as the mother. …She couldn’t really explain all this to Alexis now, not now, and so what she managed to get out sounded cold, colder than she felt or meant. …“Jeanette,” she told him, “will get along without me, better, I suspect than with me. She loves her father. And somehow, I’m not sure how yet, but somehow I’ll manage to keep track of her, to watch over her … although I’m sure she’ll come to hate me in time, the terrible mother who deserted her and her father. …”

Magda poured herself another port and drank it quickly. “Listen to me, Alexis. I didn’t pursue Rubin. Believe me, it was the other way around. So do me the favor of not making me feel guilty. …And I repeat, once I’m out of his life I’m sure his precious family will reinstate him, he’ll be forgiven his transgressions. This could turn out very well for him. …”

Alexis smiled. “Magda … you don’t need to justify yourself … not to me. I love you, Magda. I want you. But I’m not Rubin. I’ll indulge you, take care of you, love you. But understand this too … if you ever betray me I’ll kill you.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded as though he might be joking, but Magda knew Alexis too well for that. He would do as he said. It was not a threat, it was a promise.

When their eyes met again, they had made their pact “Now … you’ll need a passport, which we’ll get today. When would you like to leave?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I’ll make arrangements for tomorrow. First, well go to my villa in Cannes.”

“Why not Paris?”

“Don’t you suppose Rubin will wonder what’s happened to you?”

“And Paris will be the first place he’ll look?”

“I should think so. We can do without scenes … besides, it might be just the thing for you. …Life’s been very difficult for you. …”

“Are you laughing at me, Alexis?”

“No, but I was thinking … it pays not to start a new life with illusions. When a man gambles, he should consider all the odds. Rubin didn’t.”

Somehow, she got through the night. The next morning, Rubin left early. She thanked God for that. She went in to see her daughter, hoping she would be as strong as she needed to be.

Jeanette was reading aloud to herself. For one long moment, Magda’s determination wavered. This was the child to whom she had given life … a part of herself she was leaving behind. A tight knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she sat beside her daughter and took her hand. “
Petite
… Mama has something to tell you, and you must not cry. …Can you do that for me? Good. Now, Mama is going away for a little while. …”

“Can Daddy and I go with you?”

It was Magda, not the child, who was showing tears. “No, my love, Mama needs to rest, to go off for a while by herself. …”

“But when will you come back?”

Magda felt herself wavering, and for a moment actually thought of taking Jeanette with her, and then quickly realized how impossible that would be. My God, she didn’t hate Rubin, and only if she wanted to kill him would she take the last remaining possession he had. Besides, once the infamous Rumanian had departed their sacred precincts, the Hacks would take her in completely, wipe out the memory, the existence, of her mother and she would at least be raised as a Hack, with all the advantages
that
would have. She would be legitimate, not an ersatz made-up lady like the girl from the Parisian gutter. …And, of course, they would never ever let her alone if she should be so foolish as to take their child away. They’d find her, and bring her back, and …She hugged her daughter, kissed her, told her that she’d soon be back home and that she’d send her postcards like Tante Solange, and quickly rang for Miss Williams to come and take her off for a nice long walk in the park, helping her on with her coat, buttoning it with unsteady fingers.

But just before going off with Miss Williams the child hesitated, stopped and came back to Magda. She put her arms around her and said, “I love you, Mama,” almost as though she knew right along the truth behind the playacting of adults.

“I love you too,
Petite
,” Magda said, fighting back the tears, “and now you must run along, mustn’t keep Miss Williams waiting. …”

When Magda heard the footsteps disappear and the door close, she remained sitting on her daughter’s small chair and looked about the room at the child’s crayon drawings attached to the wall. This was Mama … this was Papa. …And this was Tante Solange. …They were all alike, except that Mama’s hair was amber and brown, Papa’s hair was thin and black, and Tante Solange’s was gray and black. Their eyes were all very round, their lips thin and smiling. Their cheeks were all circles of red, and they all looked very happy. The sun was shining and the sky was blue and the grass was green … and … oh, God. …

The doorbell was ringing. Magda wiped away her tears. Good-bye, Jeanette Sara, she said to the empty room. She picked up the sable coat and left a note for Rubin on the bed. Then she went to the front door, opened it, shut it quickly, and went down the steps to Alexis’ waiting car.

She did not allow herself to look back.

Rubin returned home a little before three. He took off his hat and hung it in the hall closet. The house was very still. Perhaps Magda was in Solange’s room. He knocked softly and waited. When there was no response he gently opened the door and found the room empty. Then he went to his room. Magda was not there either. He rang for Anne.

He looked at the things they had so carefully bought … possessions. Now many of them would have to be sold. But they were only material things, after all. Thank God he still had his wife and child. Soon he’d perhaps have a small business. In time things would adjust themselves; he and Magda would soon be as close as they used to be. It was just a matter of time.

“Yes, sir?” Anne interrupted his thoughts.

“When will my wife be back?”

“I don’t know, sir. She didn’t tell me.”

“And Jeanette? Miss Williams?”

“I don’t know that either, sir. …”

“Thank you, Anne.”

Tomorrow he would have to give the servants notice. Tonight he’d tell Magda about the tobacco shop he planned to buy, with the help of Leon. It was old and established, and the figures looked good. With a little thrift, and a little luck, things would work out all right. …

When Jeanette came in, he was making out a list of the heirlooms he hoped to save.

“Hello, my darling,” he said when she ran into his arms, hugging her tight against him. “Was Mama with you?”

“No,” said Jeanette. “She’s gone away. …”

“What? Where?”

“She’s gone away,” said Jeanette, “for a little while. That’s what she said, Papa.”

“When?” Was it possible? His heart began to pound.

“This morning …”

Rubin didn’t hear the rest of what Jeanette said as he rushed into the bedroom and looked in the closet. Almost all her clothes were gone. He went through the dresser drawers. They, too, were almost empty. Then he saw the letter on the bed. Taking it out of the envelope, he dropped heavily into a chair and began to read.

Dear Rubin:

You must believe this has not been an easy decision for me to make, but there was no way to go on pretending. We could not go on living together. I hate London. It never was, never could be, home to me … any more than Paris could be home to you. Maybe the war was responsible. I don’t know who or what is to blame, or how it happened, but we simply are wrong for each other. Both of us went through too many changes, or maybe not enough. …I hope you find some happiness and peace in your life, Rubin, but it’s better to part while we’re still young enough to make a new start. I truly am sorry for anything I did in your absence that has caused you pain. I hope you can forgive me. I leave you our daughter. Please try not to hate me.

Magda.