La Fleur Rouge The Red Flower (3 page)

She waited, hoping she was wrong.

“It’s a real catchy title,” Jay answered, his voice full of enthusiasm. “’The Pepper Pot!’ It’s a story about a family whose lives revolve around a pepper pot. Quite a different idea. But every one he’s written is different from the others. He’s amazing. I don’t know how he manages to be so versatile.”

“That’s strange,” she said. “My musical is a story about a family whose lives revolve around a ginger jar!”

“I guess your minds run in the same channel!” Jay enthused. “Quite a coincidence.”

Her heart pounded with fear as she remembered what Jenny said about trusting Greg, and she became suspicious. She didn’t like what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help it. She started to sing one of the tunes from “The Ginger Jar.” Her lovely voice came over the telephone as clear as a bell.

Jay was enthralled. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “That’s one of the beautiful songs from ‘The Pepper Pot.’ It’s the best musical he’s ever written! Pure genius! It’s just perfect the way it is! No rewriting is needed!”

Hilary put her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Her world came crashing down around her, and she felt helpless to pick up the pieces. How could Greg have done this to her? Why?

“Are you sure Greg didn’t show it to you?” Jay continued. “He must have. Otherwise, how would you know the tune you just sang?”

When Hilary was finally able to speak, her voice sounded hollow, devoid of emotion. She shivered, suddenly very cold. “He said it was his musical? He didn’t write it. I did. Only I called it ‘The Ginger Jar.’ He changed the title.”

She swallowed hard as she struggled to stop shaking.

Jay paused for a long moment before he spoke. “That’s a very serious accusation, Miss Simone. There must be some mistake.”

Hilary brushed the tears from her face. “No. The only mistake is the one I made when I showed him ‘The Ginger Jar.’ I can’t believe this.”

Jay’s voice sounded strained and aloof as he answered. “I can’t believe it either. That’s not the Greg I know.”

“Maybe neither one of us really knows him,” Hilary replied. “He told me you insisted he put his name on it - that it needed a known name. Otherwise, people might not come to see it. He said it would be a start for me - that this sort of thing is done all the time in this business, and after it became a hit, you’d tell the public that I wrote it. This made no sense to me, so I called to ask if I couldn’t at least get credit as a collaborator.”

Jay was silent for what seemed ages before he spoke. “Miss Simone - “ he hesitated - “I don’t mean to sound insulting or hurt your feelings, but I’ve worked with Greg for a long time, and I simply can’t believe what I’m hearing - not about Greg.” He sounded distant and cold. “I wouldn’t produce anything that didn’t have the real composer’s name on it. Would-be writers have claimed before that Greg has stolen their material, but they’ve never been able to prove it. How do I know you’re not one of them?”

Hilary, in a daze, barely heard what Jay was saying. Could Greg possibly have stolen from others?

“You’d better give me a chance to speak to Greg about this,” Jay continued. “This doesn’t sound like him. I’ll get back to you.”

Before she knew it he had hung up. She sat with the phone in her hand, barely able to breathe. She felt as though she were drowning in a sea of lies, with no one there to save her.

Then, with great resolve she dialed Greg’s number. “Greg,” she said, “we have to talk! I’m coming over!”

She slammed the phone down, grabbed her jacket and purse, and ran out the door. It was getting dark, and ominous clouds hung over the city. She could see lightning and hear thunder in the distance, like an omen of the battle that was about to begin. Just like this rapidly changing New England weather, her life which she had thought was rosy had suddenly taken on a whole new stormy turn. Tears of anger streamed down her face as she drove through the streets of Boston toward Greg’s home. She felt betrayed.

Greg opened the door.

Hilary, her face streaked with tears, stood there shaking with outrage. She tried to speak, but her voice stuck in her throat.

Greg pulled her inside and led her to the sofa.

“Hilary, what’s the matter with you?” He sounded impatient. “You agree with me, don’t you? You’ll do as I suggested? You know I’m right. It will be a start for you, so why are you so upset?”

She stared at him. Suddenly she felt she was speaking to a total stranger. Her voice trembled with rage. “How could you do this to me?”

Greg masked his face with a hurt expression. “Do what?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about!”

Greg looked evasive. “No, Hilary, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”

Hilary felt numb. How could I have thought I loved this man? “What were you planning on doing if my musical became a hit and Jay Stuart wanted more?” Her voice was cold as steel. “Did you plan to steal from me again? Or maybe you planned to plagiarize someone else!”

“I didn’t steal from you, Hilary. I told you, Jay wants to put my name on it because it’s better box office if people think someone like me wrote it. He knows it’s yours.”

Hilary jumped up from the sofa. “Liar!!” she screamed. “He told me you never mentioned my name! You didn’t even explain why I never showed up for my appointment. You changed the title of my musical and said it was yours! How could you?”

An ugly expression came over Greg’s face. “You called Jay? I told you I’d take care of everything for you!”

“Then why didn’t you? Oh - - I guess you did! But not the way you promised!”

Hilary thought he was going to hit her. A sharp ring on the telephone interrupted them.

“Hello?” Hilary heard him say. “Yes, Jay. I was just about to call you. I understand you had a call from my fiance. It’s all a terrible mistake. She’s here now and we’re discussing it. She’s been very anxious to get started with her writing. I guess she thought if her name were on it, that would be a way to do it. Oh, don’t worry. I’ll straighten her out. See you tomorrow, and we’ll take care of the contracts. Yes. I’ve already sent my application to the Library of Congress by Express Mail. They should have it first thing tomorrow morning.”

With every fiber of her being Hilary wanted to snatch the phone out of his hand and shout the truth to Jay. But she felt rooted to her seat. Her legs felt paralyzed.

Greg hung up and spun around to face her where she sat in shocked silence. “How dare you call Jay and try to ruin my reputation?!” he yelled.

He gripped her arm so hard she winced. This brought her to her feet as she tried to break away from him. She ran for the door, but he was too fast for her. He pulled her around to face him.

“You’d better listen to me, Hilary!” he said in a threatening tone. “This is the way it will be when we’re married, and you’d better get used to it!”

“Never!” she screamed, yanking her arm from his grasp.

If Greg had thought he could rule her with an iron fist, he was wrong. Sweet, naive Hilary was fighting back. As she turned again to leave, he lunged forward and struck her in the face so hard that her knees buckled.

She couldn’t believe it! Not Greg, the man she had agreed to marry! The man - no, not a man! A beast and a thief! Why hadn’t she realized before what he was really like? This was a new side to his nature that she had never seen, and it disgusted her. But as badly as she smarted from his blow, the physical pain didn’t equal the sorrow she felt at the death of her shattered dreams. Gone were the idealism and hopes, and in their place was a strength and determination she hadn’t known she possessed till this moment. Never again would she be so trusting.

She struggled to her feet and rushed toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Greg hastened to her side and tried to pull her back.

Hilary glared at him. “Don’t you touch me!” she hissed, shaking herself free from his grip.

He backed off, and Hilary suddenly found the courage to do what she knew she must. She removed the engagement ring from her finger and handed it to him. “Here!” she sobbed. “I won’t be needing this any more.”

She stood there, a desolate figure, tears running down her face and aching inside. But she held her ground.

Greg looked at her with disbelief written all over his face. She had always been so sweet and trusting, but here she was standing up to him. He’s scared! she realized. He needs my ideas! For just a moment she felt a sense of power.

He managed a laugh. “Hey - - Hilary,” he said in the most tender and reassuring tone he could muster, “there’s no need for this. Come on. We can work this out.” He tried to take her in his arms.

She pushed him away. “No!” she snarled. “How could I have been so blind? Who are you going to steal from next time?” She looked at him with contempt. “And I thought you wanted to help me!”

She broke away and ran down the walk.

As she stumbled toward her car she could hear Greg cursing.

“You little nobody! You can’t desert me now! I’ll get even with you! I’ll follow you wherever you go and ruin your reputation! I’ll tell them you can’t write a thing on your own! I’ll tell them you’re nothing but a plagiarist! They’ll believe me, not you! I’ll see to it that no one else ever gives you a chance!” He chased after her, still shouting threats. “And don’t you ever dare call Jay again!” he warned her. “I’ll see you dead first!”

Hilary drove through the dark streets of Boston alone with no one to sympathize with what she was going through. Her ears rang with his words and his threats. The sense of power she had felt moments ago left her as suddenly as it had come.

She pulled over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. As she sat there, her arms and head draped over the steering wheel, she suddenly straightened up with new determination. The old, naive Hilary was gone - left behind in Greg’s study. This was a brand new Hilary. One she had just met.

She reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes. Next, she gave her makeup a quick touch up to hide her tear-streaked face, turned on the engine, and headed in the direction of the hotel where Jay Stuart was staying.

She realized now that she should have insisted on going with Greg when he showed Jay her musical. How could I have been so stupid? Hindsight is great, she thought bitterly. Foresight is better. Why didn’t I see it coming?

She drove into the underground garage of the Copley Plaza and parked her car. Not bothering to be announced, she sped through the lobby and up to the second floor. She fairly flew down the corridor and knocked on the door of Jay Stuart’s room.

When he opened up, their eyes locked, and her heart did a flip-flop. She couldn’t take her gaze away from him. He was younger than she had expected - only twenty-eight.

His handsome face set her pulse racing. This completely unnerved her, and she almost forgot why she was here. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Neither could he. Her determination slowly drained from her.

He was the first to recover. “Yes,” he smiled, “how can I help you?”

Then she remembered why she came, and her courage returned. She took a deep breath in an effort to regain her composure. “Mr. Stuart,” she said firmly, “I’m Hilary Simone. I have to talk to you. I - “

She didn’t get the chance to finish.

The moment she told him who she was his whole attitude changed. He looked disappointed. Little did she dream she was in for still another shock.

He stiffened. “Miss Simone,” he interrupted, “I don’t think we have anything to discuss. Greg is a very talented man. He doesn’t need to steal from you or anyone else.”

“Then why did he?” The words came tumbling out before she could stop them.

“He didn’t!” Jay snapped. “Why do you insist that he did?”

Hilary opened her mouth to say something more, but Jay stopped her.

“Greg has just come up with the greatest musical he’s ever written, and I’m not going to let anything spoil it for him! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it doesn’t wash.” He sounded reluctant as he continued. “I’m sorry about this. He obviously thinks the world of you if he asked you to marry him. Now, please excuse me. I have a plane to catch. Goodbye, Miss Simone.”

Hilary stared at the closed door. She turned and walked to the elevator. In a trance she went down to the underground garage and got into her car. She didn’t remember driving home till she found herself on her sofa, sobbing with frustration and anger.

At the time she wrote the musical she mailed herself a common-law copyright - a copy of her musical in an envelope with a dated postmark, not to be opened unless proof was needed that she was the author. She felt secure with this, deciding to copyright it later at the Library Of Congress in Washington, D.C., and register it at The Writer’s Guild in Los Angeles. But she never dreamed something like this would happen. She had trusted Greg.

As soon as she recovered from the first shock, she called a lawyer to see if he wouldn’t take the case on a contingency basis, but when he heard the name “Gregory Wilcox,” he said, “We’ll never win. He’s too well known. He’ll just claim that the common-law copyright is a fake. He has some pretty shrewd lawyers. You don’t stand a chance.”