Vanished (5 page)

The wedding was tiny and discreet. They were married on New Year's Day by a judge who was a close friend of his, at Malcolm's home, with fewer than a dozen of his friends present. She knew no one to invite anyway, except the women she had met when she was working in his office. But they resented her now anyway. Her Cinderella story did not fill them with happiness for her. She had walked off with what they had always wanted, but they had wanted him for very different reasons than she did. They wanted his money, and all Marielle wanted was his protection.

She wore a beige satin suit that he bought for her from Mainbocher, with a matching hat that had been made by Sally Victor. And she had never looked lovelier than she did that day, with her dark auburn hair in an elegant chignon, and her deep blue eyes filled with emotion. She had cried when the judge declared them man and wife, and she stood very close to him all day, as though she was afraid that if she didn't, some evil spirit might come between them.

They honeymooned in the Caribbean, on a private island near Antigua. It belonged to a friend, and there was a fabulous house, a yacht, and an army of discreet, extremely well trained British servants. It had been perfect in every way, and she found that her affection for him was rapidly growing deeper. His thoughtful, gentle ways touched her more often than she was able to tell him. And he approached their physical life together with wisdom, kindness, and enormous caution. He was anxious for a child, but not so much so that he was ever rough or hasty with her, and he spent most of their honeymoon learning the ways that brought her pleasure. He was an experienced man, and she enjoyed the time she spent in bed with him, but there was no hiding from the fact that there was something missing between them. But they enjoyed each other's company, and when they returned to New York three weeks later, they were good friends, and she walked into his house with a confident air, and a bounce in her step that hadn't been there in years. But once home again, the reality of their life together had hit her. They lived in
his
house, saw
his
friends, day and night, she was surrounded by
his
servants and Marielle had to do everything
he
wanted. For the most part, the servants considered her a fortune hunter, and treated her like an intruder. Knowing she had previously worked for him, jealousy stoked the fires of their hatred. Her orders were ignored, her requests were secretly ridiculed, her belongings either disappeared or were “accidentally” destroyed, and when she finally tried to mention it to Malcolm, he treated her complaints with amusement, which upset her even more. He told her to give “his people” time to get used to her, and in time they would come to love her as much as he did.

Once back in New York, he was busy at the office again. He kept to himself much of the time, and led his own life, and Marielle became very lonely. He still enjoyed being seen with her, and he was always kind to her, but it was clear that she was not going to share his entire life, or even his bedroom. He explained that he stayed up very late at night, reading documents, or making overseas calls, and it was important to him to have privacy while he did that, and he didn't want to disturb her. She had suggested that they shift their rooms around, and that he have an office next to their bedroom, where he could work at night, but he was adamant that he didn't want to change anything. And in the end, he didn't. Not one single thing changed in Malcolm's life after he married Marielle, except that they went out together a little more often. But more than once, in spite of his kindness, she felt as though she was still one of his employees.

She got an allowance now, which was discreetly shifted into an account on the first of every month, and he encouraged her to shop anywhere and buy anything she wanted. But the servants were still his, the house still looked exactly as it had before, the people they saw were all his friends, and he still traveled without her when he went on business. In fact, Marielle had traveled more with him before, when she was only an undersecretary to him. She would have been angry at the new secretary who did travel with him, except that Marielle liked her. Brigitte was a pretty German girl from Berlin. Her behavior and reputation were impeccable, and she treated Marielle with enormous deference. She had pale blond hair, and bright red fingernails. She carried herself well, and was highly efficient. More than that, she was always kind to Marielle, to the point of being friendly. As they had been of Marielle, the older secretaries were jealous of her, and Marielle felt sorry for her more than once when she noticed the raised eyebrows of Brigitte's colleagues. Brigitte was always very respectful to her, and very helpful whenever Marielle called the office. And she was particularly nice to Marielle when she got pregnant, sending small but thoughtful gifts for the baby. She even knitted him a blanket, and several sweaters, which also deeply touched Malcolm. The rest of the time, he seemed to scarcely notice her existence. But he had other things on his mind, important business deals, and his wife, and eventually, the son he had wanted so badly.

Marielle had expected to get pregnant easily. She had before, and she was surprised when it hadn't happened after the first few months of their marriage. And after six months, Malcolm insisted that she go to a specialist in Boston. He had taken her there himself, and he had left her at the hospital for the afternoon, while a team of specialists checked her over. In the end, they found nothing wrong with her, and they encouraged her and Malcolm to continue trying. They felt that it was just a matter of time, and they made some suggestions which embarrassed her, but Malcolm was more than willing to try them. But six months later, their suggestions still hadn't worked, and both of them were deeply worried. It was then that she spent a quiet afternoon with her own doctor. He had no new explanations to offer her, and he very gently said that some women just weren't made to have babies. He had seen it happen before, healthy young women who had nothing wrong with them, but simply never conceived. It was no one's fault, but “Sometimes,” he said quietly, “God just doesn't want it to happen.” She was beginning to get hysterical every month when she saw that she was not pregnant again, and the strain of it had started her migraines.

“It has happened before,” she said softly, almost afraid to look at him. It was something she still hadn't told Malcolm, particularly now since she'd been unable to have his baby.

“You've been pregnant?” The doctor looked intrigued. He had wondered once when he examined her, but he hadn't been certain and hadn't asked her. And she had never said anything to him. They had asked her in Boston several times, but she had denied it. But she felt more confidence in this man to keep her secrets to himself. She had found him herself, and he was one of the few people in her life who did not owe any special allegiance to Malcolm.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Did you have an abortion?” That really worried him. In his experience, women who had the kind of abortions that were available in dark alleys and back streets, were seldom able to have other children. They went to butchers and were lucky if they lived, let alone were still able to have babies.

“No, I didn't.”

“I see …” He looked suddenly more sympathetic. “You lost it.”

“No,” she started to say, and then winced as though he had caused her physical pain. “I mean, yes … I had him …and he died …later….”

“I'm so sorry.” She told him about it then, and she cried endlessly, but she felt relieved two hours later when she left his office. And in some ways it was like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. He reassured her by saying that he felt certain she would get pregnant again eventually. There was absolutely no reason for her not to.

And he was right. Two months later, with amazement and delight she discovered that she was pregnant. She had just begun to think that it was never going to happen at all, and she had even begun morosely wondering if she should offer Malcolm a divorce, if that was what he wanted, since she had been unable to bear his children. But suddenly, the light had shined, and Malcolm was beside himself with gratitude and excitement. He showered jewelry and gifts on her, came home at lunch to check on her, treated her like the rarest jewel, and seemed to spend every hour making plans for their baby. It was obvious that he wanted a son from her, and yet he was even prepared to be pleased with a daughter. “We'll just have to have more, if it's a girl,” he said happily, and Marielle laughed. By then, she could no longer see her feet and hadn't slept decently in weeks. The prospect of more was a little daunting. On the other hand, she had blossomed in pregnancy, and the pain of the last several years seemed dimmer now with the excitement of life inside her. She sat for hours feeling the baby move, and waiting for the hour when she could hold it. It would fill a void that had been aching for years, and she knew that nothing would fill that void again except another baby. She had to tell herself again and again that it would not be Andre this time, it would be another child … he would never return, and still, no matter who this child was, she knew she would welcome him or her with her whole heart, and so would Malcolm.

He ordered everyone in the house to take care of her, to cater to her every whim, to feed her practically every hour on the hour, and make sure she didn't fall or trip or get tired, but his staff was far less enthusiastic about her pregnancy than he was. They seemed to see it as an opportunity to be even more disagreeable to her, particularly the housekeeper who had been there for twenty years, through both previous wives, and continued to view Marielle as a very temporary intruder. The prospect of the baby made her a greater threat, so instead of being pleased, the most malevolent of them were actually angry. The housekeeper, the maids, the driver, Patrick, an Irishman Marielle had disliked since they'd first met, and even the cook and her staff of underlings were all annoyed at having to cater to Marielle's few whims, or even making special tea for her when she had one of her migraine headaches. They seemed to consider her headaches a sign of weakness in her, and they were often rude about her indisposition. Even the baby nurse Malcolm hired for her seemed to view Marielle as something of a lesser being. She was an Englishwoman Malcolm had hired on one of his trips abroad, and she had a face like a stone wall and a heart to match it. It was difficult to imagine her giving any kind of warmth or tenderness to a newborn baby. And when she arrived a month before the baby was due, Marielle was horrified when she saw her.

“She looks like a prison warden, Malcolm. How can we let her take care of our child?” The real issue for Marielle was, why did they need her? She had taken care of Andre herself, but then the memory of that was too painful to endure, and there was no way now that she could discuss that with Malcolm. “I can take care of the baby myself.” But he only laughed at her and told her she was being silly. He wanted her to let everyone spoil her.

“You'll be exhausted when the baby comes. You'll need to rest. Miss Griffin will be perfect. She has excellent references, is hospital trained. She's just what you need, and you don't even know it. You'll see, babies aren't as easy as you think.” She knew for a fact they were easier than he thought, but she couldn't tell him. At eighteen, she had taken care of her own baby, with no assistance from the likes of Miss Griffin.

Miss Griffin announced early on that Marielle's migraines were bad for the child, and probably a sign of some very dangerous weakness in the mother. It was as though she wanted to shame Marielle out of them, but they were too severe for anything except a dark room and bed rest. A thousand things brought them on. Tension, worry, an argument with Malcolm, a cruel remark from a maid, a head cold, a virus, a late night, too much rich food, even a glass of wine. They were torture for Marielle, and she was always apologizing for them, as though they were a serious character disorder, just as Miss Griffin had suggested.

Only Haverford, the English butler, was ever kind to her. He had never shown any undue interest in her, but he was unfailingly polite and always pleasant. Unlike Miss Griffin, who was intent on allying herself with Malcolm, who had hired her in the first place. And like everyone else in the house, she rapidly began treating Marielle like an intruder. She treated Marielle like the unpleasant but necessary vehicle they had to put up with in order to get the baby. Eventually, it began to make Marielle feel frightened.

She wanted to be with people who loved her now, and she longed for her happy days with Charles before their baby. Sometimes she just lay on her bed and cried, and on more than one occasion, Malcolm was shocked when he found her.

“You're just sensitive right now. Try not to take it all so much to heart,” he tried to tell her. But after talking to Miss Griffin, he did think she was being a little foolish. She seemed to cry all the time. She even got upset when she came to the office and saw Brigitte. Marielle felt so fat and ugly in comparison to her that for three days she refused to go anywhere with Malcolm. But he was always patient with her, and tried to be understanding. But it was obvious even to him that Marielle was desperately overwrought at the end of her pregnancy. It was as though she was terrified, and barely able to cope, but he did all he could to help her. Miss Griffin explained that some women are so afraid of delivery that they go crazy in anticipation of the pain. It seemed to support her general theory that Marielle was weak, and worse yet, a coward.

She wanted to have the baby at home, she had insisted on it early on, but Malcolm was equally insistent that the baby be born at Doctors' Hospital, with every possible modern development near at hand in case there was a problem. Marielle felt it would be more peaceful to have the baby at home, and she was worried about kidnapping, as she confessed to Malcolm. Bruno Richard Hauptmann had been arrested in September for kidnapping the Lindbergh child and she became obsessed with the Lindbergh kidnapping again, but Malcolm decided she was just unduly nervous because she was six and a half months pregnant. It was a difficult time for her, in ways no one else knew. Only her doctor realized what she was going through, and whenever she saw him, he tried to soothe her and reassure her that this time everything would be different.