Voice of the Heart (106 page)

As though she had read his thoughts, Francesca turned to him suddenly, touched his arm. ‘I’m sorry I’m so morose. I’m not much of a compa—’

‘Don’t apologize, darling,’ he exclaimed, cutting her off. His smile was loving, as he added, ‘You’re entitled. I know you must be feeling lousy.’

She said, ‘I’ll be all right. I’m going to press on with my book about the Plantagenets. I have to write—to save myself, to keep my sanity. If I don’t, they’ll cart me away in a straitjacket. I’ve got all this stuff rumbling around in my head…’ She gave him a slight smile.

Nick glanced at her quickly. ‘Yes, I understand. I feel the same way myself… and the pain of love is incomprehensible at times. Still, that pain does lessen, eventually pass. Oh hell,
Frankie, I seem to be offering you nothing but cold comfort today.’

The faint smile flickered fleetingly again. ‘I don’t have much luck with men, do I? I’m beginning to think there’s something wrong with me.’

‘But there isn’t, Francesca,’ he exclaimed emphatically, reaching out, squeezing her arm. ‘You’ve had a couple of bad experiences, that’s all. Everyone does. And you haven’t met the right man yet. But you will.’ Her look was so sceptical, he added, with the utmost sincerity, ‘You’re the loveliest, most gentle, warm-hearted woman I know. As well as being charming and intelligent. You’ve got everything going for you, and then some. Please, don’t put yourself down. There are always plenty of people willing to do that.’

‘Well, yes, that’s true I suppose.’ She was silent, playing with the fish on her plate. She put her fork down. ‘You and I do seem to have our trials and tribulations with the O’Rourkes, don’t we? I’m beginning to wish I’d never met Ryan.’ Her eyes swivelled, came up to meet his. ‘Don’t you feel that way occasionally? Wish that you’d never met Katharine?’

Her question startled him and his eyes clouded over; then he smiled. ‘No. We’ve had our ups and downs, and Katharine can be difficult, but she’s worth it. I do love her, you know,’ he said, thinking he loved her far too much, if the truth be known. The worry and distress she had caused him, particularly in the last six months, had been unbearable. He was glad she was in the Far East. The respite had given him a chance to recoup; yet he missed her, longed for her, ached for her return.

Misunderstanding Nick’s brooding silence, Francesca remarked hurriedly, ‘Oh God, Nick, that did sound awful, didn’t it?’ She leaned closer. ‘I didn’t mean it quite the way it came out. I know you love her. So do I. Of course, I’m annoyed with her just now, I’m not going to pretend I’m
not. However, that doesn’t change the way I feel about her deep down.’

‘Yes,’ said Nick, nodding his head slowly. ‘And that’s the measure of the woman. She can be the most irritating and infuriating hellion, and yet conversely, so beguiling one instantly capitulates to her charm. Off-balance—that’s how I feel most of the time.’ He had been on the point of talking to Francesca about Katharine on several occasions in the last few months, but always changed his mind at the last minute.

Now he found himself saying, ‘I’ve been concerned about Kath lately, her behaviour has been erratic. Haven’t you noticed her strangeness?’

Francesca took hold of Nick’s hand resting on the table, and her voice was low and gentle as she said, ‘Yes, I have. So has Hilary. We… we talked about it only last week. Kath flew at Terry for no good reason, just before she went off to do the current film, and he was baffled and hurt. Hilary—I—well, to be honest, Nick, we both think Kath ought to see a doctor. Couldn’t you persuade her to go to one when she gets back to New York?’

Nick swung his head, his eyes meeting Francesca’s, and he saw the candour and compassion in them. ‘So everyone’s noticed it,’ he muttered, and gripped her hand that much tighter. ‘And you’re right, of course. I think Kath
does
need medical help. I suggested it.
Once
. At the mention of the word psychiatrist she went into a kind of panic, then pulled herself up short, and overnight she was as normal and as sane as we are.’ Pushing his plate away, he reached for a cigarette. ‘She was marvellous after that, and for several weeks before she left in May.’

Observing his grave face, the distress in his eyes, Francesca bit back the words on the tip of her tongue. She rearranged them in her head and after a small silence, volunteered, ‘About four years ago, just after I’d moved to New York, Doris told me that as far back as 1956 my father had detected
certain things in Katharine.’ She stopped, wondering whether she dare continue.

Nick said, ‘What things?’ His eyes were glued to hers. ‘Please tell me.’

‘Daddy apparently felt Kath was emotionally unstable and—’ Francesca cleared her throat nervously, finished in a low tone, ‘and mentally unbalanced. I’m sorry, Nick.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s all right, don’t worry. And Doris? Did she agree? And what about you?’

Swallowing hard, Francesca murmured, ‘Doris was ambivalent, didn’t know whether to concur with Daddy or not. Katharine has never been her favourite person, but Doris is very fair, and she was prepared to give Kath the benefit of the doubt. As for me, at the time I laughed, pooh-poohed it. And then lately, well, I have wondered, Nick. In fact, when I got back from England in January I thought Katharine was on the edge…’

‘Edge?’ He frowned.

‘The edge of a nervous breakdown.’

He sucked in his breath. ‘Oh Frankie, don’t say that,’ he began, and clamped his mouth shut, acknowledging that Francesca spoke the truth. He had been blocking out the facts because he had not wanted to face them. He said reflectively, ‘Her mood swings are like the curve of a parabola. One minute she’s gay and happy, the dazzling Katharine we all adore, the next she is plunged into the deepest depression. I believe she’s schizophrenic. Occasionally I’ve even thought she was paranoid as well.’ He exhaled heavily. ‘Then the curve rises, hits the middle, and she is imperious, demanding, intolerant.’ His face changed imperceptibly. ‘In March she even became abusive with me, verbally and physically.’

‘Oh Nick, no!’

‘I’m afraid so, and it happened because I mentioned the skiing at Königssee. She exploded, accused me of wanting to go there to see Diana. Insisted that I didn’t love
her
, that I was hankering after Diana. I put it down to some kind of
misplaced jealousy, and then, a week later, the abuse started again, for no real reason. I’ve no idea what triggered her off. After these two outbursts she was remorseful, begging my forgiveness.’

‘Irrational. Erratic,’ Francesca pointed out. ‘And we both know Kath has a rather obsessive personality.’

Nick nodded, changed the subject as the waiter hovered, removed then plates. Nick ordered coffee, and once they were alone again, he confided, ‘I remember thinking, when I first met Kath in 1956, that she was a troubled young woman. Do you recall the screen test for
Wuthering Heights
? The day we went to see it?’

‘Yes, very well,’ she replied. ‘How could anyone forget it? She was spectacular.’

‘I thought so too. When we were leaving the screening room I had this terrible sense of foreboding, felt everything was going too fast for her, and that she wouldn’t be able to handle it well. I thought disaster loomed on the horizon. Years later I laughed at myself. I had been proved totally wrong. Katharine’s handled her success and fame with the most remarkable aplomb. Don’t you agree with me, darling?’

‘Absolutely, Nicky. In fact, she’s constantly amazed me. In certain ways she’s remained quite unchanged. She’s been a big star since the release of
Wuthering Heights
in 1957—almost ten years ago. That’s why it’s so perplexing. I mean this sudden change in her now, in recent months.’

‘It’s not so sudden, when I pause to think about it,’ Nick said. ‘I guess I started to notice certain peculiarities several years ago, in 1964 to be exact, when she and I went to Africa with Victor to make the film I’d written for them. It was in November. She was extremely edgy on that trip, curt and snappy with Vic, and dictatorial with both of us. She was also impossibly energetic, almost manic, filling every spare moment between filming with unrelenting activity, and she didn’t seem to need much sleep. The second unit went off to
shoot background footage, and Vic and Kath had a week off. She insisted we go on safari, dragged us into the African bush with some weirdo big game hunter who was slightly crazed, in my opinion. And she also had to visit the kraals and talk to the natives, explore the jungle, do God knows what else. You name it, we did it. And the weather was so goddamn hot, Vic and I were dragging our feet, ready to expire, sweating like pigs, and Kath was as cool as a cucumber, revelling in every minute. That was the strange part… you know how she hates the heat, finds it enervating, has such a fetish about being pristine morning, noon and night. Believe me, her endless bathing took place in some very primitive surroundings.’ Nick shrugged. ‘I couldn’t get over it, she was so unlike herself. The change in her was doubly noticeable because earlier in the year, when we were in Mexico, she was just the opposite. Wonderfully calm and relaxed, the nearest I’ve ever seen her to being placid. I’d never known her to be so happy and content before, nor since, if you want the truth.’

‘Yes, she told me about both trips, as a matter of fact. She liked Mexico, but Africa captured her heart. She kept saying she wanted to go back there, spent hours talking to me about the beauty of the landscape, the vastness, the skies at night, the simplicity of the people, the animals. She was almost poetic about pink flamingos hovering over some extraordinary sapphire lake. And—’ Francesca frowned, glanced at Nick as another thought intruded. ‘Wasn’t Kath on the Coast that summer?’

‘Yes. She made a picture for Monarch, after we returned from Mexico. I was with her, at her house in Bel Air, just before she sold it. Why? What are you getting at, Frankie?’

‘This may sound very odd to you, darling, but it suddenly struck me that Kath has always been a bit funny when she’s returned from California. At least in the last four years I’ve been around to witness it.’

‘How? In what way?’

‘Certain traits seemed more pronounced, as if they had accelerated. You know, she was more moody, jittery and tense than usual, and vague. No, distracted is a much better word. And she was frequently quite snippy with me.’ Francesca stared into the distance, her face thoughtful, concentrating on her memories of those periods. ‘It’s funny how one is inclined to push troubling things out of one’s mind, and I realize I’ve been doing that for ages. Nick, I recollect something else very clearly now—my own behaviour towards Kath when she came back from the Coast. She always made
me
nervous, and it took me weeks to relax with her, to be my normal self. It was as if she transmitted something very intense and disturbing to
me
. And there was the strangest look in her eyes. Katharine’s eyes are very beautiful—that unique turquoise colour—and they’re very expressive. But they were different then, I don’t know how to describe them. They held a burning light, no, a gleam, better still, a febrile glitter, a sort of wildness.’ Francesca bit her lip. ‘You’re looking doubtful, but it’s true. You can’t possibly think I’m imagining all this.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Nick said in a faint voice. ‘I’ve seen that look in her eyes myself.’ I wish to God I hadn’t, he added inwardly.

There was a silence. Francesca took a sip of her coffee and reached for a cigarette.

Lighting it for her, Nick murmured, ‘The many complexities of the human mind…’He shook his head wearily. ‘Katharine is quite a study, I’ve got to admit.’

‘I don’t know how you’ll ever persuade Kath to see a psychiatrist, Nicky darling, but I think you must try.’

‘Oh yes, I agree. And if she listens to anybody, it’s me.’ He grimaced. ‘It’s going to be rough though.’

Francesca peered at him, mused out loud, ‘I wonder if she
would
have interfered between Ryan and me if she weren’t so disturbed?’

‘Yes, I wonder. Still, she is meddlesome by nature, Frankie.’
He gave her a wry little smile. ‘You know, we’ve spent the entire lunch talking about Kath, not touched on your problems at all.’

Francesca thought: But I don’t have any problems, not when I really think about it. And her heart tightened as she contemplated the difficulties ahead of Nick. She said, ‘Don’t worry about
me
, I’ll be fine. I’ve acquired some resilience over the years.’ She leaned into him, kissed his cheek. ‘As well as a very special man for my dear dear friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nicky.’

‘You don’t have to, Beauty. I’m always here for you, as I once promised you at Langley. Now, I’d better get you home. You’ve got to pack.’ He motioned to the head waiter for the bill, remarking, ‘Incidentally, I’m taking you to the airport tomorrow night.’ She started to protest, and he exclaimed, ‘No, no, don’t give me any arguments, Frankie.’

***

The discussion about Katharine remained foremost in Nicholas Latimer’s mind for the next couple of weeks, long after Francesca had flown to France. He was pleased he had broached the subject that day at La Grenouille. Airing his concern had brought a measure of relief, especially since Francesca had voiced her own worries, opinions which paralleled his private assessment of Katharine’s present mental state.

There had been times, of late, when Katharine had so rattled Nick he had begun to doubt his own sanity. The fact that Francesca and Hilary had also observed her debilitation, and considered her to be in need of professional help, confirmed his judgment, diminished his confusion and reinforced his resolve to take proper action when Katharine returned from the Far East. Since he was neither in the middle of a novel nor a screen-play, he had plenty of time on his hands, and this complex and patently disturbed woman, whom he dearly loved, wholly absorbed him, dominated his thoughts. He would sit for hours reflecting about her,
endeavouring to understand her, to pinpoint the cause of her current problems.

The comedy she had made with Beau Stanton in the autumn of 1956 was shown on television late one night, and Nick found himself watching it totally engrossed. When it was over, his thoughts settled on Hollywood, and the ambience that prevailed in that glittering, power-ridden, crazy town of fantasy and flim-flam. He had never been fond of it, regarded it as
the
company town if there ever was one, insular and boring, and so inbred it fed upon itself. To Nick it was a place of twisted values and false perceptions, where money, sex and status, fame and power abundantly flourished, were the tyrannical masters that dictated and controlled so many lives. He saw it as the one spot on this earth where the gaudy and the vulgar, the flamboyant and the sleazy rubbed shoulders with, and sometimes overshadowed, the talented and the dedicated, the sincere and the honest. Many a performer had come to grief in its
shallow
shallows. Victor, who had never been a permanent resident, preferring the quieter regions of Santa Barbara, had once said: ‘Hollywood is a great big back lot. All façade. So don’t take it seriously, old buddy. It’s only skin deep.’