Perfect Freedom (35 page)

“No, I don't suppose so. Not really, but it might be better than nothing. He doesn't know I exist.”

“Nonsense. Why do you think he's taking all this trouble for the statue? It's for you.”

“He may think so but it's really because he likes to make unconventional gestures. He wants to be unconventional but he isn't. What do you think he'd do if I told him what I'm finding out about myself?”

“I don't think I'd risk it, if I were you.”

“That's just it. He talks about freedom but look what happens. I've done things I'm ashamed of. Maybe I wouldn't if I could talk to him and understand why I shouldn't feel free to be myself. Now I have you. I'll tell you everything and you'll help me to be decent, if there are any decent homosexuals.”

“Of course there are. Homosexuals are like everybody else, some nice, some not so nice. I am very fond of quite a few.”

“You
know
some? I mean, they're friends?”

“Of course. Like you. Can you get away from the boat at night without anybody knowing?”

“Sure.”

“Then you'll come to me tonight and tomorrow night. You will become my boy. You will be waiting for me in St. Tropez.”

“That's what I want, to fall in love, to keep myself for one person.” He discovered a new truth as he spoke. “Am I really beautiful?”

“One of the most beautiful people I've ever seen of either sex. Don't you know?”

“People have said so recently. If you think so, maybe I really am.”

“Does it make you vain?”

“How could it when I've been with boys who're much more beautiful? Is my cock big enough?”

“For what?”

“To interest boys who feel the way I do.”

Carl chuckled. “I think you won't find many bigger. It is very pleasing—a beautiful boy with a very big cock that is always erect for me.”

“Then show me everything that people do together. I'm not sure I know.”

Carl complied. Robbie stretched his body to open every cranny of it to sensual delight. He let it go slack to sponge up every new sensation. When Carl entered him again, it wasn't an isolated act of possession but the culmination of a pattern of physical pleasure that they had evolved together.

“That's what I thought,” Robbie murmured when they were lying at peace. “I can't deny it. It's a necessity. Being taken by a man makes me feel alive. That's the first time that anybody's made love to me all the way. You sucked my cock just enough to show me how lovely it must be to come that way. I'll have to find a boy who likes to do it as much as I do. I know what everything's supposed to be like now. Is it better for you with a woman?”

“You're a very passionate boy, my darling. Very few women have made me feel so wanted. That, after all, is what we all crave.”

“I'm your boy. You make me feel as if you want me—more than the others did.”

“You said it was good with Theo.”

“Oh yes, heaven, but I didn't know then what I know now. He let his brothers have me. I'd never do that again. I'd want him to keep me for himself.”

“But, you see, you're thinking of him as a homosexual, my dear. He wouldn't see any reason not to share you.”

“Yes, I keep forgetting. I'm a freak. I'm a homosexual. Will everybody know?”

“There are important men in public life who prefer to keep it a secret. They've succeeded.”

“I'll try not to let people find out. I couldn't stand it if my parents did. I don't see how I'm ever going to get used to it myself.”

The ghastly fact kept crashing into his thoughts all through the rest of the day. I'm a homosexual. It made his arms and legs feel numb He felt it must show in his face. How had it happened to him? He was sure of one thing: he had had no choice. It had always been in him. He was Carl's boy. Did that mean that he filled a need in Carl's life? To feel needed, as he needed Carl, might make his condition more bearable.

He fell back on an earlier comfort; his mother would think he was too pure for sex. If he always let others make the first move, there would be no risk of scandal. He might get through life without being found out but the secret would always be eating at his nerves. He was a homosexual, not just having fun like other boys but dedicated to his own sex. He was weird, sick, a pariah. Becoming an important painter was his only hope. Nobody would care about his sex life then.

He discovered that he could at least act natural in front of his parents with a man he'd made love with. After lunch, Carl proposed a visit to his secret cove and they all went, thus robbing it of its secrecy. Robbie found it odd to see his mother sitting reading where he and Carl had lain only a few hours earlier. Stuart and Carl dropped their trunks at the edge of the water when they swam. Robbie cautiously kept his on and averted his eyes from his father's body. He watched his mother's response to Carl's overpowering charm. He knew that in her case it had nothing to do with sex but she remained brighter and more vivacious with the German than he had ever seen her before. He was glad Carl could put on such a good performance as a ladies' man. When the evening came to an end after dinner, Robbie waited for half an hour to let his parents get settled for the night before he stole off to Carl's bed.

The next morning, their German friend announced that the statue was definitely to be moved that night. They could plan to leave the following night as soon as they had collected it.

“You mean, it'll be lying on the beach all day tomorrow?” Robbie objected. “Isn't that awfully risky?”

“It will be buried under loose sand under a log for a marker. Somebody will stay there out of sight to watch it. They are as anxious for all to go well as you are.”

“I think we can leave the plot in Carl's capable hands,” Stuart said. “So tomorrow will be our last day? I'd better talk to Angelino.”

He told the captain that they'd decided to leave in the next day or two and suggested that he take Rico with him across to Mykonos on one of the tourist boats to stock up on fresh food and ice. They'd taken on fuel at Rhodes and used the engine very little since, so that wasn't a problem. Carl was arranging for them to top up their water tanks from the limited local supply. They would be ready to leave at a moment's notice.

The foursome put together a picnic and made a day of it at Carl's cove. It became an outdoor living room. Helene settled down with her book under the overhanging rock. Robbie sat under a tree with a sketchbook, slightly removed from the others. His mind's eye was crowded with impressions that he'd been eager to get down on paper, rough notes and sketches for future compositions. Stuart had discovered some unusual shells down near the far arm of the little bay and became absorbed in a search for more. Carl was an inexhaustible swimmer.

Helene heard heavy breathing beside her and looked up from her book to see Carl standing over her. He was smiling and water was running in little rivulets down his panting torso. When she found herself comparing his superbly muscled body to Stuart's hard leanness, she hastily looked around. Robbie was within hailing distance. She didn't see Stuart.

“We are alone. Are you very frightened?” he teased.

“Don't be silly,” she said, closing the book. He sat down beside her and dexterously drew a cigarette from his case, without getting the others wet, and lighted it with his handsome lighter. Everything he owned was handsome and expensive-looking.

“I will be serious,” he said, his eyes narrowed against the smoke. “Have you noticed that I've made a great effort to make friends with Robbie?”

“I've noticed you flirt with him the way you flirt with everybody.”

“That's a foolishness Mina Dianopoulou put in your head. Like most men I flirt with women I wish to make love with. You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever known and I think we are meant for each other. I think you feel it, too.”

Helene could scarcely believe her ears. This time he'd gone too far. He deserved the full force of her anger. Why was it so difficult to scold him? “Oh really, Carl,” she protested, unconsciously finding words that said nothing. “How can you sit there with my son in sight, with Stuart, your friend, about to join us and talk like that? It's incredible.”

“Yes, it is incredible,” Carl picked her up eagerly. “Stuart is my friend and you and he are good friends, too. That one sees. But you are a woman and friendship is not enough. You and I are not friends.”

“And never will be as long as you go on like this,” Helene asserted.

“No, we never will be but we can be much more. We can offer each other all the wonderful painful things, the things that make life worth living. I've made friends with Robbie so that no matter what happens he won't be hurt or feel left out. I know how close you are.”

“I've never heard such nonsense. You sound as if we were about to run away together.”

“Who knows? This may be the last chance we have to talk in private. We must know all the possibilities before I go to St. Tropez. There will be no flirting there. We will be ready to act.”

Long unaccustomed to the language of passion, she had an uncontrollable impulse to laugh and felt as if she had been restored to sanity. Her life was complete. She had long since fought her way through passion to peace. Her laughter died comfortably. “You're quite absurd but I suspect attractive men often are. There's Stuart,” she added, catching sight of him rounding the farthest point of the little bay.

“It's not absurd for us to want each other. We know it must be.”

“You're coming to St. Tropez to visit friends,” she said sensibly. She turned to him but found that too much had been said for her to meet his eyes easily, so she looked vaguely over his shoulder. “I hope you won't do anything to spoil it.”

“It shall be as you wish, I promise you,” he said ambiguously. He expelled a long breath and dropped back flat on the sand. Helene waited. Was he going to leave it at that? She didn't know what to make of herself. She had said all the right things but she didn't feel as if she had settled anything. Not daring to look at him again, she opened her book but could not see the print.

Stuart found them looking natural and at ease. “Am I the only boozer around here?” he demanded. “Shouldn't we have a drink before lunch?” They drank
ouzo
and spread out their picnic and enticed Robbie out from under his tree. “You sure you don't want to change your mind and come with us?” Stuart suggested to Carl when they were eating their simple fare.

“More than ever what I said is true,” he replied, lifting his hands in horror. Helene glanced at him and their eyes met briefly. She didn't know what Stuart was referring to but the way Carl had phrased his reply made her feel that it was meant for her in some way.

Wonderful painful things. The grandiloquent words stuck in her mind. There was wonder enough in watching Robbie turn into a stunning man. Was a terrible emptiness awaiting her when his development was complete? Instinct told her that she had nothing to fear. She sensed a passive satisfaction with life in him, no youthful chafing at the bit. He would be content to let life flow around him in its even course. Carl looked as if he could inflict pain, with his powerful body and his golden self-assurance. She could wonder like any woman what satisfactions such physical magnificence might offer. From that to giving herself to him was a huge impossible step. When he came to St. Tropez she would be securely established in her own home, away from this unreal world that played tricks on the imagination.

For the rest of the day Carl treated her as if they had reached some secret understanding. She wanted to slap him. The fact that they didn't have another moment alone together saved her from being put to the test.

“What do you really think of Mum?” Robbie asked Carl when they were lying in each other's arms later that night. “Sometimes you almost convince me that you're trying to get her.”

“No, no. We skirmish, as men and women do. Every man must try to conquer a beautiful woman. It's a law of nature. I'm laying the groundwork for the unknown. It doesn't matter if nothing comes of it. She's very beautiful, in the way that you are beautiful. How can I help being intrigued?”

“What in the world could you expect to come of it? You don't think she'd have an affair with you, do you?”

“Would you mind very much if she did?”

“She never would.” He spoke out of his deepest convictions. “How could I mind something that I can't even imagine?”

“You may be right. Let's say you are and that something even more extraordinary happened. You said you wished I were your father. Would you like me as a stepfather?”

“You mean—” He was so stunned that for a moment he couldn't think of anything else to say. His mind whirled and bumped to a halt as it framed a thought whose absurdity almost made him laugh. “You mean, you'd take her away from Dad and marry her?”

“It's quite farfetched, I agree. I've never wanted to marry, but with people one must always be prepared for the unexpected.”

To his astonishment, despite the wall of incredulity that the suggestion had immediately erected in his mind, Robbie found that it might have appealing consequences. “Wouldn't she have to know about us?” he asked.

“That would remain to be seen. I would certainly insist that she understood and accepted you. I would want your lovers to be part of our life. I think she would want it too, once she realized that you're not like the majority of boys. I would like to save you from a life of secrecy. She will like your not wanting girls.”

“I think you're mad.” He burst into wild laughter and rolled over and flung his arms around Carl's big body. “I hope you have plenty of money. It's been fun being rich the last year or so. I hated being poor. Don't tell Mum. She thinks I'm a disembodied spirit.”