Perfect Freedom (60 page)

“Did you say Mother's waiting for us?” he managed to ask when they were moving.

“Yes. She will be with us. We'll all be together now.”

“Will my father allow it?”

“I told him but I don't think he understood. He laughed rather foolishly. We must talk when he's sober.”

Robbie's distraught mind couldn't quite grasp what Carl was talking about. It was inconceivable that the family could be broken up, but Toni had been a part of it and he was gone. He couldn't face his father again. Existence as he knew it had been framed in immutable relationships. They were all gone. Even his mother was gone. Carl had taken her. His mind fragmented and ceased to function rationally. He couldn't relate to anything around him. They were driving through vineyards into a setting sun. He didn't know who he was. He was aware of a smart modern villa and then he was in what looked like a well-appointed hotel bedroom. Carl handed him a glass and a pill. The glass contained something alcoholic and he washed the pill down with it.

“Get undressed.” Carl pulled the covers back from the bed. “You must sleep now. Everything will be better when you've had some rest.”

“Will you sleep with me?”

“Perhaps. I will be here. Don't worry.”

When he was naked Robbie began to shiver slightly, and Carl led him to the bed and pulled the light covers over him. He wasn't sure who Carl was. He was tired. He needed a rest.

He woke up in the dark and didn't know where he was. He reached out for Toni but he wasn't there. He had to be nearby. They had gone somewhere together. He pulled himself out of bed. His body felt heavy and he was unsteady on his feet. He stumbled around in the dark. He ran into something and began to weep, whimpering with his helplessness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. He could make out the shapes of furniture and a stretch of wall with a door in it. He found it and opened it. There was a hall with a staircase at the end of it. In the other direction, quite close to him on the other side of the hall, light showed under another door. He heard the murmur of voices. Toni? He still couldn't remember where he was; it was all unfamiliar.

He crossed the hall, heedless of his nakedness, and tried the door where the light was. It was locked. He pounded on it and began to sob. Everybody was shutting him out. Everybody had deserted him. The door opened and Carl stood in it, wearing a light blue dressing gown Carl, not Toni. Carl had brought him here. He hurled himself against the big man and took his mouth with sobbing kisses. Over his shoulder he saw a woman lying on the bed, her head propped on a pillow, the sheet stretched across the top of her breasts. Her shoulders were bare. It was his mother except that it wasn't his mother. It was a younger, desirable-looking woman who resembled his mother. Why wasn't Carl sharing her with him, as Toni had wanted to share with him? He felt his erection lift between the folds of Carl's dressing gown to meet hard flesh. He tore open the front of Carl's dressing gown and swiveled his hips up against him.

“We're lovers,” he cried in a choked voice. “Show her that we're lovers.”

“She knows, my poor dearest boy.” Carl let his robe slip from him and grappled him into the room, closer to the bed. “There are ho secrets between us.”

Robbie fell back before his advance and for a moment stood alone and isolated, displaying himself to the woman. Carl stepped in against him and their bodies were briefly tangled together. Robbie exerted all his strength and pushed him aside.

“What are you doing here?” he shouted wildly. “I won't allow it. I'm yours. You have no right to be here. She belongs to me. She's always belonged to me. I have nobody else left.” He backed away and, collided with the bed and toppled over and lay across her. Arms held him. Soft hands soothed him. Only the sheet separated them. He felt it slipping away and they were joined in their nakedness. He felt the warmth and comfort he had always felt against her body. He was reclaiming her. She belonged to him again. A hand stroked his erection and guided it. Their bodies were shaken by sobs. Their tears intermingled. Horror beat about his head like the wings of birds as he moved his hips and drove his orgasm into her. They screamed into each other's faces and Robbie rolled away and lay gasping on his back. Carl pulled him to his feet and lifted him in his arms and carried him back to his room.

Robbie awoke in broad daylight. As his mind cleared, it was gripped by horror. A chill shriveled his toes and crept up his legs. It had happened in his mind. If his mother had offered him the comfort of her bed, his drugged and overwrought imagination must have turned it into something it hadn't been. He remembered Edward and Anne talking lightly of their parents' vices. Hadn't they referred to somebody who was having an affair with a son or a daughter? The casual conversation had stayed with him until his feverish imagination had cloaked it with reality. He felt the ineffable gentleness of a hand stroking his erection. It had happened.

As his mind edged closer to assimilating the monstrous fact, part of him continued to recoil from it with horror while he also became aware of a still core of peace in him. He felt complete and free in a way he never had before. His mother knew why he would never want a girl. She had somehow explained with her body his aversion to what was considered normal and had atoned for diverting him from common human experience. She knew all of him and accepted him as he was and had delivered him to his passion for men.

He was fully awake but incapable of leaving the shelter of the bed, not knowing how to face the others. What awaited him outside? The door opened and Carl entered carrying a tray. Robbie sat up.

“You are awake?” Carl brought his usual light breakfast and settled it on his lap. He looked fresh and alert and masterful. “It's a beautiful day. We've had a note from your father. He has gone away. He says he will not be back until after you have returned to school.”

“School?” Robbie made a derisive little sound in his throat.

“Of course. You must go back to school. It is most important.”

“I don't feel much like a schoolboy this morning.” If part of him had hoped that his father would restore order to the chaos that had engulfed them, he knew that he couldn't expect it. His father was capable of making a stand for whatever he believed in but something gentle and ineffectual in him made him withdraw from the havoc he had the power to create. He had made his stand about Toni but had undermined it by giving him the means to go with him. He had offered him freedom but hadn't accepted the truth.

“You mustn't brood about what happened last night,” Carl said, standing at the foot of the bed. He was wearing shorts and an open shirt and was very handsome. “It was necessary for all of us. Do you want us to try to find Toni? I don't know exactly what happened but isn't it possible he is still here somewhere?”

“I suppose so but it wouldn't do any good.” He had tried to give all of himself to Toni but when love was within their grasp, Toni had rejected it. It was the only explanation for his departure before knowing the outcome of his talk with his father. If he couldn't find love with somebody as good and tender and upright as Toni, it was unlikely that his nature would permit him to find it with anybody. “No. Toni doesn't want me. If nobody's there, I might as well go home. Tell Mother I'm all right. I want to see her but not quite yet. Tonight, or tomorrow. Tell her I'm beginning to understand. I want to go find Edward. I think he'll stay with me as long as we're both still here. Anne too, probably.”

“Good.” Carl nodded with satisfaction. Everything was working out according to plan. He had them both in his power. There would be a great scandal. Everybody would gossip and speculate about what had happened to the Coslings. Everybody would know about his part in it and would find an easy explanation for why he was here. He also controlled a comfortable fortune. He had discussed Helene's financial situation with her. There was plenty of time to establish himself securely before war overtook them. Stuart would eliminate himself. “Your mother's car is here. We don't need it. We'll be on the other side of the house. You can slip away whenever you're ready. You know we'll always welcome your friends.”

“Of course. Where are we?”

“Not far from your house. You'll see as soon as you go out. We'll be waiting for you, my dearest boy.”

As soon as Carl had closed the door behind him, Robbie pushed the tray aside and threw back the covers and looked down at his heavily tanned body. He could be justly proud of it. He caressed himself and quickly gave himself an erection. Bigger than the norm. Big enough to get all the lovers he wanted. He had to fill the terrible void Toni had left. There was no further need for restraint. His mind was filled with beautiful boys and sturdy cocks ready to take him. Edward would be his guide to the night life here; they would debauch themselves together. He would give himself to all the men who wanted him. He suspected that he would have to sink to whatever depths his appetites carried him before he found the stability and decency he had mentioned to his father. He thought of school and getting back to his art teacher. Maurice would be impressed by his summer's work. Perhaps Maurice would save him.

STUART

S
tuart saw the letter as soon as he entered the room. It was on top of the small pile of mail placed as usual on the table in front of the fireplace, beside the brandy and the bottle of soda. He went slowly over to it and picked it up and stood with his back to the fire. His hand trembled slightly as he tore it open. It was the first word he'd had from Helene since just after war had finally been declared.

He read through it quickly and then looked up and stared straight ahead of him, not seeing the room, or the terrace or the sea framed in the enormous glass doors. It's going to be another nice day, he thought. Then he looked at the letter and read through it again.

5 February 40

Dear Stuart,

When you read further you will understand how difficult it is for me to write this. I am writing not for my sake but for Robbie's.

I am at present in the military prison at Toulon. There is no need for me to tell you how I got here—the maliciousness of neighbors. It seems I am to be tried for “communication with the enemy” because of some letters I wrote to Carl. If it weren't for Robbie, I would almost find it funny. If you have some impulse to help me I must ask you not to.

You must think only of Robbie. He has been in Paris since the war started although Maurice had to join his regiment immediately. We talked about having Christmas together but travel is very difficult. Then this happened a few weeks ago. I have written begging him to stay where he is since there seems to be no danger of this war turning into anything serious. Thank heavens the States is staying out.

His address is 18 rue de la Faisanderie, care of Delannoy. I'm sure he would meet you halfway if you would only get over your impossible attitude toward what you consider his abnormality. I don't know how long I will be kept here. I know you will always be generous with money but with the world so uncertain I would feel happier if I knew you were in closer touch with him, otherwise I would not have written. I hope you are well.

Helene

Stuart placed the sheet of ruled paper carefully on the table and looked at the brandy. Would it help to have a drink? No. He could go for days at a time without drinking. But what did it mean? Helene in prison? It must be some sort of military formality. His first vision of a cell and a cot and bars was undoubtedly exaggerated. In a case like this, they would put her in a hospital wing or something of the sort. Strange how after only a few months of war one could take such things for granted. He was prepared to be taken away any day and held until it was decided that he was a harmless nonbelligerent. It happened all the time.

He rang a bell beside the marble mantelpiece and sank into a big armchair in front of the fire and put his hand over his eyes. He heard footsteps approaching and looked up.

“Oh, Agnes, is Mlle. Cumberleigh up yet?” he asked the maid. Felix was gone, caught in the mobilization.

“Yes, I've taken her her breakfast. She said she was going to write letters until it was warm enough to go out.”

“Tell her I'd like to see her, would you? And tell Boldoni I won't be here for lunch.” He sank back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. With his chin lifted his face showed little sign of age, but the last couple of years of hard drinking were taking their toll. He was putting on weight. His muscles had softened and he was no longer capable of prolonged physical effort.

He heard the door open and he looked up as Anne entered, her slight body enveloped in a silk dressing gown that looked too big for her. She pushed the sleeves up to her elbows and crossed her arms on her chest as she walked over to him and stood in front of the fire. She wore her hair more becomingly now, brushed back from her forehead, and her bony face had acquired an ascetic beauty.

“We can let the fire go out,” she said. “It's going to be another lovely day.”

Stuart looked at her and pointed at the letter lying on the table. Her eyes lingered on his face for a moment and then she picked up the letter and read. He watched her from his semi-reclining position. Her face was expressionless. There was an extraordinary firmness in it. The line of her chin was straight and strong and her full mouth closed firmly.

“What does
she
consider his abnormality?” she said. She finished and put the letter down where she had found it. “Dear God, why did everything seem so funny once upon a time?” she said in a flat voice. She turned and sat in the armchair opposite Stuart with one leg folded under her and cupped her chin in her hands and gazed into the fire. “It isn't just Edward being killed. We probably would've thought that was funny—dying for king and country.” She looked at Stuart with wide level eyes. “Helene being put in prison should be a real howler. I suppose you're going to her.”