Sins of the Fathers (20 page)

‘Oh, I shall be all right, Cornelius, if we can find happiness together again.’

‘That’s just wishful thinking. That’s not facing the facts. Of course I’d like to think that you were some kind of saint who
could sit waiting for me at home in tranquil celibacy while I went out and slept with my mistress, but Alicia, I didn’t get
where I am in life by dealing with fantasies! Of course you must take a lover. It’s the only practical solution.’

‘But I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else!’

‘And I shouldn’t enjoy thinking of you with anyone else, but that’s not the point. The point is that if we’re ever to make
this new arrangement work we’ve got to start with equal rights or else I’ll wind up feeling more guilty than ever and you’ll
be even more angry and frustrated than you are now – yes, be honest, Alicia! Admit it! We’ve got to be honest with one another!’

‘Yes, we’ve suffered too much by pretending.’

‘Exactly.’ He sighed with relief. ‘This is all going to work out for the best,’ he said presently. ‘Marriage should be a dynamic
relationship, growing and changing to reflect the growth and change of the partners. We’ll be okay – in fact I feel much better
already. Sitting down and discussing our problems frankly like this has to be the smartest thing we could have done.’

‘Yes, I feel we’re much closer now. Like the old days.’

‘We used to have such good talks, didn’t we?’

‘And such peaceful silences. Do you remember I said to you once how much I loved our silences?’

‘I remember but I’d forgotten. Our silences have been so tense for so long.’ He kissed me on the cheek. ‘But it’ll all be
different now, won’t it?’ he said smiling at me. ‘We’ll be happy again … Now I think we should try and get some sleep before
the sun rises any higher. You must be as tired as I am.’ And kissing me again he told me he loved me.

‘I love you too,’ I whispered, clinging to him in a rush of happiness, and it was then as I felt his body at last pressing
against mine without constraint, that the long-forgotten desire blazed through me and I knew that our problems, though changed,
remained unsolved.

[1]

Our new intimacy soon evaporated. A different tension sprang up to replace the tension we had neutralized, and I was forced
to withdraw again behind my coolest façade in order to preserve the new arrangement which we had so painfully evolved.

It seemed a terrible irony that once the burden of our sexual relationship was lifted the stress which had dulled my desire
disappeared and my physical need for him revived. I was conscious of little except my intense longing, and in an attempt to
deflect my thoughts from Cornelius I became more enrapt than ever with my day-time serials and confession magazines. I even
found myself dreaming of sex. At first I was disturbed, believing only men could have such vivid fantasies, but I came to
long for the dreams because they provided a release from tension.

Neither of us had anticipated that he would feel it necessary to distance himself from me, as if he dared not come too close
for fear of reviving the spectre of our old relationship, and soon I found myself missing not merely the sex but the casual
loving gestures, the pressure of his fingers intertwined with mine, the comfort of his arms around me in a brief embrace,
and the touch of his mouth on mine as he
paused for a brief kiss. In theory we should have been so much more relaxed with each other that the casual gestures increased,
but in practice we found that any physical exchange now created awkwardness. I was aware of losing him again, and in my distress
I saw him with such clarity that I noticed details I had overlooked for years, the inflections of the mid-west still strong
in his speech, his graceful gait, his radiant smile which was all the more dazzling because his face in repose was so set
and still. I noticed too his sculpted profile, the straight nose, the firm chin, the masculine mouth, the elegant line of
his forehead below his fair curling hair. And last I noticed how short he was, barely taller than me, but his height was unimportant
because he was so beautifully built, his bones fine but strong, his skin unblemished, his muscles carefully exercised by regular
swims in the pool.

I saw him less and less. He worked increasingly late at the office as if despite all that had been said his guilt remained
unexorcized, and I assumed that on some of those nights he stopped at Kevin’s house in Greenwich Village. I told myself over
and over again how lucky it was that he had found someone suitable, but this statement, which in April had seemed unarguable,
now only underlined the intensity of my unhappiness whenever I knew he was with another woman.

I did make a great effort to consider my situation rationally. I could not confide in Cornelius or he would try to make love
to me and throw us back into the old abortive cycle of guilt and frustration. Besides, after the wicked way I had rejected
him in April I did not think I had the right to disrupt our new arrangement. I decided that the onus was on me to adjust to
the situation, but adjustment seemed impossible because despite all Cornelius had said on the subject I could not imagine
consoling myself with another man.

It was true I had considered the idea in theory. During our worst times in the past I had occasionally wished I could turn
to someone else, but I had always rejected the possibility at once. This was not only because Cornelius was my whole life
and I could not imagine either leaving him permanently or abandoning him temporarily for a little hole-in-the-corner adultery.
Nor was it only because other men, sensing my devotion to my husband, made no attempt to proposition me. Nor was it just because
my pride told me it was humiliating for a woman to offer herself to some man she didn’t love in order to ease a physical need.
It was because my sexual desire, though intense, was riveted implacably to Cornelius. No other man aroused any desire in me
whatsoever, and in fact I could hardly see other men from a sexual point of view because my desire for him was so strong.

The problem had now become so all-consuming that I could hardly concentrate on performing my daily household duties, and when
I lay in bed on that June morning after Vicky’s wedding night I found it difficult to summon the will to face the day ahead.

However I finally got up when I realized that Cornelius’ asthma attack gave me the excuse to enter his bedroom and ask how
he was feeling. But at the door I hesitated. Perhaps he would be too embarrassed to want to see me. With shame I remembered
how weak I had been, encouraging him to make love to me the previous evening when I should have spared him the humiliation
of his inevitable failure, and as soon as I acknowledged my shame I knew I had to try to repair the damage caused by my selfish
behaviour. I waited till I was calm and then nerved myself to open the communicating door. Perhaps the awkwardness would dissolve
more easily if I pretended the disastrous scene had never taken place.

I glanced into the room. Cornelius was still sleeping but as I watched, not daring to go too close, he stirred, stretched
and opened his eyes.

‘I just wondered how you were feeling this morning,’ I said in a voice a nurse might have used in some well-run hospital.
‘Are you well enough to go to the office?’

He sat up as abruptly as if I had cracked a whip. I saw then that I had been wasting time worrying about his embarrassment.
His only thought was for his daughter. ‘My God – Vicky and Sam! Oh Christ …’ He flung himself back on the pillows with a groan
and put his hands over his face as if he could hide from the memory. Then he sat up again and ran his fingers distractedly
through his hair. ‘Alicia, should I call her? I don’t know where they’re staying in Annapolis, but I could find out. If I
called now I could catch them before they left for their honeymoon!’

‘Cornelius—’ On this subject at least I could be sensible ‘— I should leave them well alone.’

‘But supposing Vicky’s unhappy? Supposing she needs me?’

‘Well dear, I hardly think she can have forgotten your phone number. If she needs you she’ll call you, and meanwhile I’m sure
it would be a mistake for you to worry about her when she’s probably in the seventh heaven of marital bliss. Now about your
asthma—’

‘Forget the asthma. I’ve got to issue a press statement.’ He was back to normal, racing into action with all his other troubles
forgotten. After ringing for his valet he picked up the receiver of the white telephone. ‘Taylor, get Hammond. I want to dictate
a press statement about my daughter’s marriage – yes, marriage. M-A-R – that’s right.’
Slamming down the receiver he turned to the black phone but hung up before dialling. ‘Christ, I can’t face Emily. Alicia,
could you—’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell her.’

‘And call Sylvia in San Francisco. Oh God, poor little Vicky—’

Fortunately at this point his valet arrived, and returning to my room I rang for coffee before facing the telephone.

I wanted to break the news first to Paul Van Zale’s widow Sylvia, but since San Francisco was three hours behind New York
it was too early to call her. Cornelius was devoted to this great-aunt of his although they had seen little of each other
since she had settled in California before the war. Sylvia, who was by no means as old as the title ‘great-aunt’ implied,
had remarried in 1939 after a lengthy visit to her San Francisco cousins, and her new husband was a lawyer with a wealthy
practice in the Bay area.

My coffee arrived. I could postpone the moment no longer, and gritting my teeth I summoned the energy to inform my sister-in-law
that she had proved to be a hopeless chaperone.

I did not like Emily and Emily did not like me but we always behaved with great affection towards one another so that Cornelius
should not be upset. Priggish by nature, Emily had condemned me for leaving my first husband while I was still carrying his
child, and since I suspected she was undersexed I was hardly surprised when she appeared incapable of understanding the force
of a passion which had driven me to give up my children in order to remain with the man I loved. Emily talked a great deal
about exercizing Christian charity but like so many regular church-goers she did not practise what she preached. However even
if she had been an atheist she would probably still have been incapable of sympathizing with me because she had long since
decided that her mission in life was to martyr herself for children – either her own or other people’s – and so she consistently
put the interests of those children before her own welfare. I suspected that during her brief marriage her husband had been
ruthlessly relegated to a subordinate role in the family, but unfortunately she had picked the wrong man to be an audience
for her saintliness. Steve Sullivan had had little time for women whose sexual tastes were not as frank and florid as his
own.

‘Darling,’ I said as Emily picked up the phone in Velletria, Ohio, ‘it’s Alicia.’

‘Alicia darling, what a lovely surprise!’ Emily, always up early in order to make a prompt start on the day’s good works,
sounded tiresomely bright and cheerful. ‘How’s everything in New York?’

‘Disastrous. Vicky’s just eloped with Sam.’

There was a shattered silence. If the news had not been as distasteful to me as it obviously was to her, I might have taken
an unforgivable but human pleasure in her stupefaction.

‘That can’t be true,’ said Emily at last in a hushed voice. ‘I don’t believe it. When did this happen?’

‘The wedding was yesterday. Sam called Cornelius last night from Annapolis.’

‘
Annapolis
?’

‘Annapolis, Maryland.’

‘I am well aware,’ said Emily coldly, ‘that Annapolis is in Maryland. I just don’t understand how Vicky could have got there.’

I briefly outlined the few details I knew of the elopement. ‘I can’t think why you didn’t realize what Vicky was up to, darling,’
I added, unable to resist responding to her chilliness by pointing out a few home truths. ‘You were with Vicky when she saw
Sam in Paris, and young girls can never hide an infatuation – they always have to talk about the man endlessly to anyone who’ll
listen.’

‘Are you implying that Cornelius blames
me
for this débacle?’ said Emily in a voice of ice.

‘No, of course not, Emily dear, but—’

‘Because it’s not my fault if Vicky felt compelled to marry a man twice her age in order to get away from home!’

‘Emily, can you conceivably be suggesting—’

‘I’m suggesting nothing except that I refuse to accept any blame for the disaster. Moreover I strongly resent your accusations
that I’m responsible when all I did was try and help you out after you yourself admitted that the problem of Vicky was beyond
you!’

‘I never meant to imply—’

‘Oh yes you did. May I speak to Cornelius, please?’

‘He’s drafting a statement for the press.’

‘Very well. I’ll speak to him later when I’ve calmed down. Meanwhile you can tell him from me that I hope he’s happy now that
he’s ruined his daughter’s life.’

‘Emily, Cornelius didn’t want her to marry Sam – he’d changed his mind! This news was a dreadful shock to him!’

‘What trash! You don’t believe that, do you?’

‘Emily!’

‘Do you think I don’t know my own brother? And do you think I don’t know Sam Keller? My God, I could tell you some stories
from the past … but I won’t. That’s all finished now and I mustn’t resurrect it. I’ll just say that it couldn’t be more obvious
to me that Cornelius has planned this from start to finish with ample help as usual from
his – no, I won’t dignify Sam by describing him as a friend. He’s always been a bad influence on Cornelius. If Sam hadn’t
been there, always willing to obey orders so efficiently, Cornelius would never have dreamt of attempting any of his more
questionable schemes. Oh, I’ve no illusion about Sam Keller! I don’t want to sound prejudiced, but when all’s said and done
he’s a German, isn’t he, and we all know nowadays what the Germans are capable of!’

‘Why, what a very un-Christian thing to say!’ I exclaimed, not because I had any desire to defend Sam but because I was unable
to resist the compulsion to dent her air of righteous indignation. ‘Aren’t we supposed to forgive our enemies? Or do we just
sit back and leave that to God?’

Emily hung up. I poured myself some more coffee and considered the mess I had made of the interview, but I came to the conclusion
that I’d been provoked beyond endurance. With any luck Emily would call back to apologize once she realized how unfairly she
had behaved, and we could stitch our relationship together again without Cornelius knowing we had quarrelled.

I did wonder idly what dark past misdeeds she had been referring to, but supposed with a yawn that she had been making some
reference to her late husband Steve Sullivan who had died a self-ruined alcoholic back in the thirties. Emily’s canonization
of the husband who had left her for another woman was really becoming very boring, and her hint that Cornelius and Sam had
not always behaved like choirboys struck me as being not only stupid but naïve. Steve had tried to push Cornelius out of the
bank which belonged to Cornelius by right. Everyone knew that. Of course Cornelius had had to defend himself, and of course
he had probably been driven to use tough measures, but big business, like war, does not operate according to normal civilian
standards, and I for one could not blame Cornelius for doing whatever was necessary to ensure his survival at the bank. Anyway
his world at Willow and Wall did not concern me. How could it? I cared nothing for banking. It was a man’s world and I wanted
no part of it. All that mattered to me was that I had a husband who loved me and who, regardless of what had happened at the
bank, had always been a devoted family man.

As my thoughts returned to the family I saw it was still too early to break the news of Vicky’s marriage to Sylvia, but I
decided instead to call Sebastian in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Sebastian had just concluded his second year at Harvard where
he was majoring in economics, but so far he had not let me know when he would be returning home for the summer vacation. Several
times during the past
week I had almost given in to the urge to call him, but Sebastian did not like me calling unless I had important news so I
had somehow summoned the determination to wait until I heard from him.