Sins of the Fathers (19 page)

Sebastian was steady and quiet. He would have provided the perfect foil for Vicky’s exuberance. He was also clever and more
than worthy of her self-conscious intellectual affectations. It was true that Vicky was set against him, but that attitude
just sprang from the perversity of adolescence, and once she was fully mature I felt sure she couldn’t fail to appreciate
him as he deserved.

However, if I’m honest with myself I have to admit that I did not want them to marry just because I felt they were well-suited.
In fact under normal circumstances I might have thought Vicky was unworthy of Sebastian and hoped he would recover from the
calf-love which had afflicted him in adolescence, but of course unfortunately my circumstances were so very far from normal.

I wanted them to marry because I felt it would remove Cornelius’
guilt and heal our crippled marriage. I felt that if his daughter and my son could give us grandchildren to replace those
children who had remained unborn our loss would be wiped out in the joy of our mutual gain. Gradually over the years I had
come to believe that this marriage was the only cure for a marriage which was becoming too great a strain to endure, and by
that April in 1949 the strain had brought me close to breakdown. I found it difficult to pretend I still wanted him sexually
when I had come to dread the nights so much; I dreaded the agony of wondering whether he would touch me, I dreaded the probability
of his impotence and I even dreaded the rare occasions when he was successful because I resented that he could be satisfied
when satisfaction was always beyond me. I was angry too after the incident of Jake Reischman’s mistress although Cornelius
had sworn he had been unable to make love to her. I thought he had no right to go to another woman when I had tried so hard
to be a good wife to him. I could see no reason why I should have to be penalized just because I knew, as no other woman knew,
that he felt less of a man because of his sterility. My anger grew. I clamped down on it, but could not stamp it out, and
eventually it combined with all my dread to annihilate the desire for him which I had always taken for granted.

It was at this point, when our marriage was at its lowest ebb and I was clinging more fiercely than ever to my dream of Sebastian
marrying Vicky, that I discovered Sam had been marked for the role of Vicky’s keeper.

‘I must talk to you, please,’ I said politely to Cornelius after we had rescued Vicky from Sam’s apartment on the Wednesday
evening early in April. ‘It’s important.’

‘Let me just see Vicky to her room …’ As usual he was smothering her with paternal love and as usual the little minx was tugging
at his heart-strings for all she was worth. ‘Wait for me upstairs,’ he suggested as an afterthought. ‘I want to change out
of these goddamned business clothes just as soon as I’ve got Vicky settled.’

I did not argue with him but went to my bedroom to wait. It was an hour before he reached his room next door and another five
minutes before he had changed his clothes, but I spoke not one word criticizing him for the delay. I assumed he had been chatting
away to her without noticing the time, but this was nothing unusual. I always had to take a back seat when Cornelius was absorbed
with his daughter.

‘I must talk to you,’ I repeated as he entered the room. I was wearing my nightdress and
peignoir
by that time although I had not removed my make-up.

‘Oh God!’ he groaned, not listening to a single word I said. ‘Poor little Vicky! What the hell am I going to do?’

My last ounce of patience evaporated. ‘Well, don’t pretend you don’t have it all arranged!’

He stared at me. ‘What do you mean?’

That was too much. I could tolerate his genuine concern for his daughter’s welfare but not his feigned ignorance nor his conspiracies
hatched behind my back. ‘I mean that you’ve lied to me!’ I blazed. ‘You always implied you shared my hope that Vicky would
marry Sebastian some day yet now Sam tells me you’ve made this secret deal with him behind my back! Of course he said he was
going to have to tell you he couldn’t marry her, but if you think for one moment I believed him, you couldn’t be more wrong!
He’ll do whatever you say, of course, but I think it’s disgraceful. I don’t know how you could do this to your own daughter!
How can you marry her off to a man who cares nothing for her while all the time, right here in our own family, is a young
man who worships the ground she—’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ He sprang to his feet. Every muscle in his body seemed to harden with rage. ‘Don’t hand me all that
feminine romantic crap – as if Vicky would ever consider marrying Sebastian! Alicia, you’ve become highly neurotic about that
boy. I haven’t said anything before because I haven’t wanted to hurt you, but I can see we’ve now reached the stage where
something has to be said. This blind adoration of Sebastian is highly unfair to Andrew and very bad for Sebastian himself!’

‘You’ve never liked Sebastian,’ I said. ‘Never.’

‘That’s quite untrue and shows how neurotically you view the situation. Now listen, Alicia. You just must be sensible about
this. It’s not healthy to live vicariously through Sebastian and Vicky by manufacturing a dream world where your son marries
my daughter and produces half a dozen children which you can pretend are the children of our marriage. You’ve got to come
to grips with reality and realize that this dream hasn’t one hope in hell of coming true.’

‘But I truly believe … in time—’

‘No. I’m sorry. Please don’t think I’m unsympathetic because I’m not; we have a central tragedy in our marriage and I recognize
that. But we must cope with it as best we can. In some ways it’s easier for me because I have the world of my work at Willow
and Wall, but you have your world here on Fifth Avenue and you could do so much more than you do at present to lead a full
rewarding interesting life. Instead of wasting so much time with your soap operas, why don’t you get out, see more of your
friends, maybe get involved in one or
two new charities? Once you were occupying your time more meaningfully I’m sure your life would seem less frustrating, so
please – make an effort to get out of this rut you’re in! I don’t want to come home from work one day and find you’re in the
middle of some neurotic breakdown.’

‘If I have a breakdown,’ said my voice in fury, ‘you’ll have only yourself to blame. It’s not
my
fault we never had any children.’

All the lights in the bedroom were on. There was no darkness to hide our expressions. For a moment we stood motionless as
if hypnotized by so much blinding clarity, and then Cornelius took a small step backwards. His face was white as bone.

‘Why shouldn’t I spend my time enjoying soap operas?’ said my voice. ‘It’s better than sitting around thinking of all those
children you never gave me. And it’s certainly better than thinking of a husband who’s never any good in bed.’

In the silence that followed I told myself I had thought the words but not spoken them aloud. I couldn’t have spoken the words
aloud because I was incapable of being so wicked.

Cornelius took another step backwards. His eyes were brilliant with pain, and I knew then that the words had been spoken and
that nothing could wipe them out.

There were no more words. I looked at his dear familiar face and saw it was stricken beyond recognition with his grief. He
went on backing away until he blundered against a table and then he turned, opened the door and stumbled out into the corridor.

‘Cornelius!’ I found my voice but it was too late. I ran after him down the long corridor, down the yards of red carpet to
the head of the grand staircase, and all the time I was crying his name. I saw him cross the hall, but he did not look back.
The stairs seemed endless. My slippers whispered frantically on the vast marble floor. ‘Cornelius!’ I sobbed. ‘Cornelius!’
I dashed out of the front door and halfway across the forecourt I reached him and clung to his arm.

He wrenched himself free. ‘Stop that screaming,’ he said sharply. ‘Stop it at once.’

‘Cornelius—’

‘I have nothing to say to you. Let me be.’

He walked away from me to the gates and when I tried to cling to him again he shoved me away so violently that I fell. The
cobbles were like lumps of ice. Lights were going on inside the house as the servants responded to the noise, and in shame
I crept back up the steps to the porch. I had just reached the sanctuary of the library when the security men streamed into
the hall.

I waited in case he returned for his bodyguard or one of his cars but he did not, and at last when the house was quiet I tiptoed
upstairs and sat down in his bedroom to wait.

He came back at dawn.

I was still waiting up for him but I had taken three tranquillizers and was calm.

When he entered the room he did not look at the chair where I was sitting but went to the window, drew back the drapes and
stood staring across Central Park. Finally he said, still not looking at me; ‘I just can’t think why we’ve struggled on so
senselessly for so long.’

‘Cornelius – darling—’

He spun round. ‘Please! No more of your scenes! I’ve had enough of them!’

I groped for composure. Evidently I could only lessen his pain by pretending to be calm. I was not to be allowed any emotion.
He could not cope with my grief as well as his own.

‘Did you go to anyone?’ I said in my most colourless voice.

‘Yes.’ My new manner seemed to reassure him. He still could not look at me but he sat down on a chair nearby and started to
pull off his shoes.

‘Did you—’

‘Sure. It was just fine. As if I’d never been sick.’ He chucked the sneakers across the room and stared after them.

‘A call-girl?’

‘God, no! You may not think I’m much good but I haven’t yet sunk so low I have to pay for it.’

‘Then who was she?’

‘No one you know. Her name’s Teresa something-or-other. She’s got some godawful Polish name I can’t remember. She’s Kevin’s
latest caretaker.’

‘Kevin has a Polish girl? I thought she was Swedish.’ The conversation was becoming almost sociable. As I listened to my casual
remarks I watched him undo the top button of his shirt.

‘Ingrid went to Hollywood.’

‘Oh.’

We were silent. He undressed no further but picked up his tie from the floor and sat fingering it.

‘Of course you’ll want a divorce,’ he said politely at last.

I groped for words again and when I spoke my voice sounded more distant. ‘Because of the adultery?’

He stared at me. ‘We can use the adultery as the legal excuse, of course, but I was really thinking of … well, I fail to see
why you
should want to stay married to me in these circumstances. Now that I know exactly how you feel I can’t think how you endured
the marriage all these years – or why you should have wanted to endure it. I guess you pitied me and felt you had some kind
of obligation to stay, but that needn’t detain you now. On the contrary, the obligation’s on me to let you go without delay.’

I could not speak.

‘Unless …’ The tie was taut in his hands.

I nodded but he was staring at the tie and did not see me. ‘Unless despite everything you still feel …’ He looked up at last
and saw the expression in my eyes.

The chair fell sideways as he jumped to his feet and stumbled across the room into my arms.

A long time passed while we held each other, but when we were calmer we sat hand in hand on the edge of the bed and conducted
a conversation in that peculiar brand of verbal shorthand which many married couples develop over the years.

‘I still can’t believe—’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Cornelius. If you love someone you love them and that’s that.’

‘You’re not secretly longing for—’

‘No. Are you?’

‘Never. Divorce is for other people.’

‘I hate myself so much for making you think—’

‘No, it was good you spoke out.’

‘—all those wicked hurtful things I said—’

‘They cleared the air. I see now we’ve let things drift too long. All my fault.’

‘No—’

‘I mean the way I reacted. Christ, Alicia, can you ever forgive me for—’

‘She doesn’t matter. In fact it might even be best if—’

‘Yes, but only if you agree.’

‘Well, so long as she’s suitable – no fuss, no mess … Is she—’

‘No. Not pretty or beautiful. Believe me, she’ll do. I’m just ashamed I didn’t have the guts to set up such an arrangement
years ago and spare you from all the—’

‘No, I would have minded very much earlier. Now it seems right. I can’t explain.’

‘But we’ve got to discuss it, work it all out and put an end to this needless suffering. We’ve both of us suffered long enough.’

There was a pause while we arranged our thoughts and dredged up
the strength to go on. I went on holding his hand tightly. Beyond the window the sky was growing paler over the park.

‘Let’s start with the obvious,’ said Cornelius at last. ‘One: no divorce. We love one another and the thought of not being
married is inconceivable. Two: no sex. It’s clear our sexual relationship’s shot, and if we can accept this we’ll both be
much happier. Three: no fidelity. It would hardly be facing reality if we were to expect celibacy from each other in the circumstances,
particularly since I’m only forty-one and you’re only thirty-nine.’

I was so busy thinking of him with another woman that I missed the wider implication of this remark. ‘Cornelius, I’d almost
rather you had a string of casual women instead of one special mistress who might fall in love with you.’

‘There’s not the remotest chance this woman could fall in love with me. She’s one of these egocentric artists totally in love
with her work, and if she ever did make difficulties for me I could buy her off. That’s why she’s so suitable and that’s why
I’d rather have one regular woman. It makes the situation easier to manage. Besides, to have a string of women would be shoddy,
degrading to both of us. Now as far as you’re concerned—’ He took a deep breath but found he could not go on.