Vanished (7 page)

“I went to Saint Patrick's Cathedral. You know, the big, big church. We went there last year, at Easter.”

He nodded, like a small, wise man. “I remember. Can we go again?” He liked watching the ice skaters across the street, at Rockefeller Center.

She stayed with him for a long time, talking to him, holding him, and reading him a story, until Miss Griffin said it was time for his bath, and Teddy turned imploringly to look at his mother.

“Can't you stay? Please …” She wanted to, more than anything, but she knew that disrupting Miss Griffin's routine was a breach of conduct the nurse would not easily forgive her.

“I can give him his bath,” she said hesitantly, knowing full well what was going to be the reaction. Miss Griffin hated interference.

“There's no need, thank you, Mrs. Patterson.” She stood up crisply. “Kiss your mother good night, please, Theodore, and tell her you'll see her in the morning.” It was a hint of sorts. And Marielle understood it.

“But I don't want to see her in the morning. I want to see her now …” And I want to see you now too, she wanted to tell him … I want to give you your bath, and make dinner for you, and put you in my bed and hold you till you fall asleep, and kiss your little eyes and cheeks and nose while you're sleeping. But they wouldn't let her do things like that. She had to visit the nursery, and have tea with him, and say good night to him hours before bedtime.

“We'll go to the park tomorrow, sweetheart. Maybe to the boat pond.”

“There's a birthday party at the Oldenfields' tomorrow afternoon, Mrs. Patterson.” Marielle was clearly interfering with their more important social engagements.

“Then I'll take him in the morning.” She looked at Miss Griffin defiantly, but to no avail, the older woman always won, and she had Malcolm's support and knew it. Marielle always felt so powerless here, so out of control, as though she didn't exist and had never existed. “We'll go tomorrow morning.” She looked at Teddy reassuringly but there were tears running down his little round cheeks anyway. Tomorrow was too far away, for both of them, and he knew it.

“Can't you stay?” She shook her head sadly in answer, and held him close to her for a moment. And then she stood up, trying to look lighthearted, as he was led away, crying, to his bathroom. As she left, Marielle closed the door softly behind her. She always felt so cruel leaving him, he was being brought up by strangers, not even friends, and Marielle herself didn't dare defy them. She had been brought into this house to have this child, and once she had, she no longer seemed to serve any purpose whatsoever. It was hard to live with that, hard to feel useless and unwelcome. And yet her life with Malcolm was something she was grateful for, and she had the child …but that was all she had, and why he was so infinitely, desperately precious to her.

She went to her own dressing room then, thinking of him, and changed into a long, pink satin dressing gown, and looked at herself long and hard in the mirror. In some ways, the years had been kind to her. Her figure had stayed the same, despite two children, but her face seemed older now, more sharply etched, more defined and wiser. The eyes were what gave her away, they said she had lived several lifetimes. And as she sat there, she found herself thinking of Charles again, only a few blocks away, and for an insane moment, she wanted to call him, but she knew she couldn't. There was nothing left to say to him except recriminations and apologies and regrets. There were no answers to their questions and now they both knew there never would be.

Malcolm came home shortly after that, and told her he had a business dinner scheduled for that evening. It had come up unexpectedly, and he apologized, as he kissed the top of her head and disappeared hastily to his own bedroom. She ordered a tray in her room that night, and tried to read the same page of the same book over and over, but she found she couldn't make sense of it, no matter how hard she tried. Her mind was elsewhere.

All through the evening, memories of Charles kept intruding on her …Charles in Paris when he was so brave, so wild, so young … in Venice … in Rome on their honeymoon … of Charles laughing …teasing her …swimming in a lake …running through a field …and then the last time …in Switzerland …and now, today…. She laid her head down, and cried finally, unable to bear the memories a moment longer. And finally, late that night, as the house lay still, she tiptoed silently upstairs and looked at the sleeping child. She knelt on the floor next to his bed and kissed the velvet of his forehead, and then tiptoed back downstairs to the room where she slept alone. She was aching to call Charles, but she owed Malcolm too much. He had done too much for her. She could not call Charles, no matter what … no matter what she still felt, or what he had said …she knew her days with Charles Delauney were over forever.

The next morning, Marielle made one of her rare ap
pearances in the dining room for breakfast. Usually, she had her breakfast in her room on a tray, but this morning she had woken early. She found Malcolm downstairs, finishing his coffee and eggs, and reading the morning paper. In Italy, Mussolini had just demanded that France hand over Corsica and Tunisia.

“Good morning, my dear.' He was always courteous, always kind, always seemed pleased to see her, like a charming houseguest he hadn't expected to encounter quite so early. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not very,” she said honestly, which was rare. Usually it was easier to just say what was expected …fine …thank you …excellent …marvelous …but her night had been filled with nightmares.

“One of your headaches again?” He put down the paper to look her over, but she seemed well. In fact, she looked better than she had in a while, he decided.

“No, just a long night. I probably drank too much coffee after dinner.”

“You should drink wine, or champagne.” He smiled. “That'll put you to sleep.”

She smiled in answer. “Are you home tonight?”

“I think so. We'll spend a quiet evening by the fire.” Everything was always such a frenzy right before Christmas, the week before they had been out five evenings in a row, at least this week was quiet. “What are you doing today?”

“I thought I'd take Teddy to the park this morning.” She led such a small life, he felt. She seldom went out, never had lunch with friends. He had introduced her to everyone, yet even after all these years, she kept to herself. She was a very quiet young woman. And when he pressed her about it from time to time, she always said she didn't have time, but the truth was she didn't have the courage. And only she knew what terrible sins she thought she was hiding.

“I want to take him to
Snow White
too. Do you think he's too young?” Marielle asked him. It had just opened earlier that year, and it was an enormous hit.

Malcolm shook his head as he set down his paper. “Not at all. I think hell love it. That reminds me. I want to check on the progress of the train room. They're working down there like elves.” It was only twelve days until Christmas.

“Will it be ready in time?” She knew it would, with Malcolm in charge of the project. He tolerated no broken deadlines.

“I certainly hope so. By the way, I'm going to Washington next week. Would you like to come?”

“To see your friends again?” He had important friends in the War Department, and he loved going to Washington to see them. He nodded. “About some important business I'm doing. And then I have an appointment with the German ambassador, about a project in Berlin.”

“You sound as though you'll be very busy.”

“I will, but you're more than welcome to come with me.” But she knew perfectly well that he would have no time for her there, and despite his invitation, she would only be a burden. And she had so much to do before Christmas.

“I'd really love to stay here and get organized. Would you be upset if I didn't come?”

“Of course not, my dear. It's up to you. I'll be back very quickly.”

“Maybe after the New Year,” she suggested, wondering if she was failing him, or if he'd be angry at her not going. She was always afraid of doing the wrong thing, or hurting someone, or letting him down, or not being wherever, or not doing something she should be. But where should she be? With Malcolm in Washington, or here with Teddy? Those decisions had become difficult for her over the last nine years, because if you made the wrong choice, it could cost you all you had. She had learned that lesson and paid for it dearly. “Is that all right?” she asked nervously.

“It's fine.' He was quick to reassure her. He kissed her good-bye then, and a little while later, she went upstairs to dress. And later that morning, as promised, she went out with Teddy. Miss Griffin had attempted to accompany her, but for once Marielle had been firm and told her that she and Teddy wanted to be alone for the morning. He was thrilled with what she said, and Miss Griffin was so outraged that, as Marielle and Teddy made their way downstairs, they heard the nursery door bang smartly behind them. Teddy only laughed, and Marielle smiled as she put his coat on, and Brigitte stopped to chat with them for a minute, on her way upstairs to see Malcolm.

“Are you going somewhere exciting this morning, Theodore?” She said it with her very slight German accent, and her eyes exchanged a warm smile with Marielle. Marielle had always felt that the two of them might have been friends, had circumstances been different. But Malcolm would never have tolerated Marielle befriending his employees.

“We're going to the park,” Teddy said proudly, glancing at Marielle with the full measure of his affection. And then, noticing the blue dress his father's secretary had on, he executed a little bow that brought a smile to Brigitte's lips. “I like your dress, Briggy. You look
very
pretty.”

The young German woman laughed, and blushed faintly. “Perhaps you will tell me that again in another twenty years, young man, yes?” Teddy looked a little baffled by the suggestion, as both women smiled. “Never mind, thank you very much. I think you look
very
handsome too. Is that a new coat?” It was the navy blue English coat with matching cap which Miss Griffin had ordered for him, and which he hated.

“No.” He shook his head matter-of-factly. “It's my old one.” And then he looked up at his mother. She had her fur coat on, and they were both ready.

“All set?” She smiled down at him and he nodded, and then stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Brigitte's cheek, noticing the faint musk of her perfume.

“Have a good time, Theodore.” She waved, as he left, hand in hand with his mother, and he turned back once for a last wave at Brigitte.

It was freezing outside, as it had been the day before, and she decided to have Patrick drive them up Fifth Avenue, to bring them closer to the boat pond. Teddy chatted all along, and as they walked into Central Park from Fifth, Marielle was telling him about Paris when she lived there. Malcolm loved telling him about his trips to Berlin, and she knew that Miss Griffin was always rhapsodizing to him about England.

“One day we'll go on a trip to Europe, on a big ship, like the
Normandie,”
and then she told him all about that, as he listened to her wide-eyed.

“Will Daddy come too?” The idea of a trip on a ship really thrilled him.

“Of course. We'll all go.” She loved going on trips with him. She hated leaving him behind, which was one of the reasons why she didn't like traveling with Malcolm and was relieved that he seldom asked her,

Teddy looked thoughtful as they walked along hand in hand, the wind bitter cold on their faces. His nose was red and her eyes watered but they were well bundled up in coats and hats and scarves and mittens. “Maybe Daddy will be too busy,” he said with regret, and Marielle tried to reassure him.

“No, I'm sure hell come if we take a trip like that.” She tried to sound lighthearted as she said it. But he, was right, Malcolm was always busy, especially lately.

“Maybe we could meet him in Berlin, if he's too busy to come with us,” Teddy said with a matter-of-fact air. He was so bright. He noticed everything. Even that Malcolm did a lot of business with the Germans. It was why Brigitte was so useful to him, and probably why she had lasted for six years in his office. She was incredibly efficient, as well as nice, and his dealings with Germany seemed to have tripled over the years of their marriage.

“Maybe we could go to London too,” Teddy added out of kindness to Miss Griffin. “And we could see Big Ben, and the Tower of London …and Buckingham Palace …and the King!” He seemed very impressed by everything Miss Griffin had told him and Marielle smiled as they walked along and finally reached the boat pond. But there was a thin layer of ice on it today, and she felt a shiver run through her. Marielle pulled the child close to her, as though something evil waited for them there, and pulled him away from it very quickly.

“There's no one here today. Let's go see the Carousel.” But she was very pale in the chill wind as she said it.

“I wanted to see the boats.” He looked so disappointed.

“There are none.” She was looking frightened, but he was too young to know it. “Come on …let's go;”

“Can we walk on the ice?” he asked, fascinated by the thin crust that lay across most of the boat pond, but she pulled him away even harder. “Never, ever do that, Teddy, do you hear me?” He nodded, startled by the vehemence of her reaction. It was then that she looked across the ice, and thought she saw him. It seemed impossible this time, as though her mind were playing tricks on her again. Maybe she was finally going mad. Maybe coming here today, to the pond, with its thin veil of ice on it, had been too much for her. She closed her eyes for a moment, as though to clear her vision, and then opened them again, very quickly.