Sins of the Fathers (7 page)

They were standing side by side in the corridor, Cornelius looking pale and exhausted, Alicia looking pale and bored. I knew
Alicia well enough to guess that the bored expression was an affectation masking other more disturbing emotions, and I knew
Cornelius well enough to realize his exhaustion was no affectation. He was wearing the black suit he had worn at the office,
a plain indication of his domestic chaos since he always changed into casual clothes as soon as he arrived home. Alicia was
faultless in mink and diamonds.

‘She’s here, isn’t she?’ said Cornelius. ‘One of my security guards saw her climb out of the window, and rather than restrain
her by force he followed her here before reporting back to me.’

‘Come in.’

I led them into the living-room. They looked around expectantly.

‘She’s in the den listening to Glenn Miller,’ I said. ‘Neil, Vicky seems very sure she wants to get away from Fifth Avenue
for a while, and I’m becoming increasingly convinced that she’s right. I think the best thing she can possibly do at this
point is to take a long vacation so that the dust from this explosion has time to settle. Do you think your sister could help?
If Emily were to invite Vicky to Velletria—’

‘I think it’s time Vicky stopped running away,’ said Alicia in her most expressionless voice. She was straightening the seam
of her glove and not looking at me. ‘Anyway she detests the mid-west and Emily’s girls drive her crazy.’

I had a brainwave and remembered Paul Van Zale’s widow. ‘Maybe Sylvia in San Francisco—’ I began.

‘Sylvia,’ said Alicia, still inspecting her glove, ‘is away on a cruise.’

‘Sam,’ said Cornelius unevenly, ‘did you tell Vicky that Vivienne wants her to go down to Fort Lauderdale?’

‘Yes. She wasn’t interested.’

‘Thank God! We couldn’t have approved of that, could we, Alicia?’

‘Definitely not,’ said Alicia.

‘Besides, I don’t want Vicky to go away!’ cried Cornelius as I opened my mouth to prolong the argument. ‘Let me talk to her
– I want her to know I didn’t mean to upset her – I want her to know that everything’ll be all right and we love her and want
her to come home!’

‘Yes, but that’s not solving anything, can’t you see? That’s just pretending the problem doesn’t exist!’

‘What problem?’

The door clicked open. Vicky, her face tear-stained, peered in. In the distance the Glenn Miller Orchestra was playing ‘Moonlight
Serenade.’

‘Vicky – honey, we’ve been out of our minds – how could you do this to us – Vicky, we love you! Please, sweetheart, please
forgive us and come home!’

Alicia took a cigarette from her purse and lit the tip with a small gold lighter encrusted with emeralds. I had never before
seen her smoke in Cornelius’ presence. Cornelius was asthmatic.

‘Oh Daddy—’

She ran into his arms and stuck there. The Glenn Miller Orchestra went on playing ‘Moonlight Serenade.’

‘Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you – oh Daddy, I love you too …’

Alicia went to the mirror and examined one of her diamond earrings. Her glance met mine but was instantly averted. After smoothing
a strand of her dark hair she adjusted the diamond ring on her wedding finger.

‘Sweetheart, we’ll work this out, I swear it – just say what you want and I’ll fix it right away—’

‘Cornelius.’

He turned to face his wife. ‘Yes?’

‘Nothing … Perhaps if Vicky’s feeling better we should go home now. I think we’ve all imposed long enough on Sam’s hospitality.’

‘Daddy,’ said Vicky, ignoring her stepmother, ‘I want to go to Europe for a while.’

‘Whatever you want, sweetheart. Europe? I’ll take you myself just as soon as I can make arrangements to leave the office.’

‘No, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all! Darling Daddy, I know how you loathe Europe and I wouldn’t dream of dragging you
back there! I want to go with Uncle Sam.’

Cornelius and Alicia swivelled to look at me. I cleared my throat and gave an apologetic laugh, but before I could dissociate
myself from this proposal Alicia said sharply: ‘Don’t be ridiculous, dear. Sam’s a busy man. He doesn’t have the time to chaperon
you around Europe, and even if he did the idea would still be totally unsuitable. If your father really feels he can sanction
another trip to Europe I’ll ask your Aunt Emily if she can take you – in fact maybe it would be best if Emily came to New
York right away to help us sort out this situation,
and if Sam will let me use his phone I’ll call her right now in Velletria. Now run along with Daddy, please, and let’s have
no more melodrama tonight. Cornelius, perhaps you and Vicky could wait for me in the car while I make the call.’

‘Sure.’ Cornelius turned obediently to his daughter and took her hand in his. ‘Come along, sweetheart, we’ll work this out,
I promise you.’

Vicky looked back over her shoulder at me, and when I smiled at her encouragingly she smiled back. ‘Thanks for listening,
Uncle Sam,’ she said before allowing herself to be led from the room. The last words I heard her say before the front door
closed were: ‘Daddy,
please
let me go to college and major in philosophy!’

In the silence that followed their departure Alicia and I looked at each other wearily.

‘My God,’ she said, ‘get me a drink, would you please, Sam? Sherry will do but make it a double. I feel ripe for the sanitarium.’

I murmured something sympathetic and hunted for the Tio Pepe.

‘I still think it’s a mistake for her to run away to Europe, but with Cornelius promising her the sun, moon and stars what
choice did I have but to agree to the idea? Personally, as I’ve already said, I’m dead against her running away anywhere.
She’s got to learn to stand her ground and cope with her mistakes or else she’ll always be an immature little girl.’

I poured the sherry into a glass. ‘Ice?’

‘Please. I don’t believe in this European fad of drinking everything lukewarm. And talking of Europe why on earth does she
want to go back there? And why on earth does she have to go on and on and on with this stupid idea of majoring in philosophy?
She knows Cornelius thinks it’s crazy – why can’t she pick a subject which pleases him? Anyway I don’t see the point of girls
going to college, particularly girls like Vicky who are obviously destined to be wives and mothers. It seems a complete waste
of time.’

I said non-committally: ‘Maybe some European finishing school would be more suitable.’

Alicia shuddered, though whether at the thought of Europe or of a finishing school was hard to tell. ‘Possibly,’ was all she
said, ‘but at best it could only be the most temporary solution to the problem of Vicky’s future.’ With the glass of sherry
in her hand she moved to the phone. ‘I’d better call Emily – excuse me using your phone, Sam, but I feel I have to talk to
her without Cornelius trying to listen in on an extension … Hullo? Operator? I want to call Velletria, Ohio, person to person
to Mrs Emily Sullivan … Thanks.’ She gave the number and
then sat sipping the sherry fastidiously, like a cat sampling cream from an unfamiliar bowl. Her green eyes which slanted
over high cheekbones accentuated this feline impression. Although she was thirty-nine her smooth pale unblemished skin made
her look younger, and her slender figure reminded me of the photographs on the fashion pages of the
New York Times
.

‘Of course,’ she said as she waited, ‘it would all be easier if only Cornelius wasn’t so hopeless with her, but as you and
I well know he’s spoilt her ever since she entered the world. I’ve done my best to introduce some sort of normality into our
family life, but I never got total care of Vicky till she was ten and that mother of hers was a disgrace – she even let Vicky
wear lipstick at eight! Obscene! Poor little girl. Anyway I’ve tried to be a good mother to her, God knows I’ve tried, Cornelius
knows I’ve tried,
I
know I’ve tried, but – hullo? Emily? This is Alicia. Emily, can you please come to New York as soon as possible? I hate to
sound as if I’m passing the buck, but I just can’t cope any more and of course the situation’s quite beyond Cornelius … Bless
you, Emily, many thanks, how soon can you – you’ll come right away? Emily, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this – look,
let me call you back to discuss the details. I’m at Sam’s place at the moment, and … no, she’s not here but when I get home
and call you back of course you can speak to her. All right … thank you, darling … Bye.’

She replaced the receiver. ‘Thank you too, Sam. I hate to involve you in all our sordid trials and tribulations. Can you please
give me another glass of sherry? I feel I must sit down for a moment before I go out to the car. I feel totally exhausted.’

I took her glass and moved back to the cocktail cabinet. Although I was more than willing to be supportive I was beginning
to feel uneasy. In all the eighteen years since Cornelius had married his second wife, Alicia and I had remained no more than
polite acquaintances and I suspected that once she had recovered her customary reserve she would regret having been so frank
with me. Our formality did not mean we disliked each other; on the contrary, I admired her looks and her style and respected
her unquestioned fidelity to Cornelius, particularly since fidelity was not common in the society in which the Van Zales moved,
but Alicia’s reserve was intimidating, and the iciness of those severe, expensive, well-bred good looks was sufficient to
preclude all thought of a less formal friendship. Even if she had had no connection with Cornelius it would never have occurred
to me to go to bed with her.

I had often speculated to myself about the Van Zales’ intimate life,
just as one so often speculates idly – and futilely, since such facts are ultimately unguessable – about the private habits
of people one knows well, but could reach no obvious conclusions beyond the fact that since their marriage had lasted eighteen
years with no hint of infidelity on either side, they had to be doing something right. I often wondered what it was for I
sensed that the marriage was not always happy, but Cornelius never spoke to me of any difficulties and I, of course, never
asked. When we had been young men sowing our wild oats he had often discussed his women with me, just as I had discussed mine
with him, but with his second marriage those sort of conversations came to an end so that now, years later, I would no more
have dreamt of discussing Teresa with him than he would have dreamt of discussing Alicia with me.

‘Now Sam,’ said Alicia, as if uncannily sensing my thoughts, ‘I know we’ve never been more than polite acquaintances, but
I’m so desperate I’m going to ask you to level with me. Has Cornelius discussed his plans with you?’

I looked suitably blank. ‘Plans?’

‘For Vicky. Oh God, of course he must have discussed them with you – he’s probably been pouring out his heart to you ever
since the elopement! You
must
know he thinks the only hope of avoiding disaster is for Vicky to marry as soon as possible!’

‘Hm,’ I said. ‘Well …’

‘The truth is,’ pursued Alicia, barely listening, ‘that I can’t help feeling ambivalent about the idea. I do agree that marriage
is the only solution, but on the other hand I’ve had first-hand experience of marrying young and living to regret it. I was
only seventeen when I married my first husband, and Vicky’s no more mature now than I was then. I believe she should wait
until she’s at least twenty-one before she attempts to cope with the demands and responsibilities of marriage, but the trouble
is I don’t think Cornelius and I can take another three years of this. We’ve hardly begun yet, Sam! This is just a little
episode over a beach-boy with the brains of a louse, and look at us, we’re in pieces. What’s going to happen when the first
really smart playboy comes along? The entire prospect’s a nightmare.’

I made several rapid deductions. Alicia might want Vicky to marry her son Sebastian, but Sebastian himself was only twenty
and probably no more ready for marriage than Vicky was. Obviously Alicia preferred the idea of a mature, twenty-one-year-old
Vicky marrying an eligible twenty-three-year-old Sebastian who had graduated from Harvard and was safely launched on his career
at the bank. Meanwhile Cornelius was busy pushing the idea that a three-year wait would be
disastrous and suggesting that I could save everyone from a nervous breakdown by arriving on the scene with a wedding ring
in my hand. Alicia’s dilemma seemed clear; torn between her natural desire to champion Sebastian’s cause and her natural dread
of future crises centred around her stepdaughter, she was now anxious to hear my views on the situation in the hope that they
might help her see a clear solution to the problem.

I wondered what line to take. Logically I should combine forces with Alicia to champion Sebastian’s cause; anyone who favoured
an alternative husband for Vicky should be encouraged. But it was impossible for me to forget Vicky’s revulsion towards Sebastian,
and I was convinced she would never marry him. Or was I? Young girls did change their minds. And Alicia could make a useful
ally …

Expediency triumphed. I took a deep breath. ‘Well, Alicia,’ I said with care, ‘I certainly sympathize with your situation;
it’s a big problem. But whether Vicky marries now or later, the job of looking after her is going to be no marital sinecure
and frankly, as I’m going to have to tell Neil, it’s not a job I’d care to handle.’

Her eyes widened. I felt as if I were riding in a plane which had just hit an air pocket – or as if the mire into which I
had been floundering since my interview with Cornelius that afternoon had finally closed over my head.

‘You?’ said Alicia incredulously. ‘Cornelius suggested that
you
should marry Vicky?’

Too late I saw that Alicia’s dilemma was not whether Vicky should marry Sebastian. She had merely been unable to make up her
mind whether they should marry now or later. I said rapidly: ‘Neil was just exploring various possibilities. Of course we
both realize Sebastian’s far more suitable.’

Alicia put down her glass of sherry and began to pull on her gloves. Her face was ivory-smooth. ‘Cornelius has never cared
for Sebastian,’ she said. ‘I might have guessed he’d try and double-cross me like this.’