Brides of War

by June Tate

  ‘Yes, he was,’ was all she said.

  The next two hours they worked side by side, as Max taught her how to get the best effect with oils. Valerie was lost within the world they both loved and this new medium thrilled her as she became more adept. Watercolours were gentle but with oils, there was a strength, depth, an excitement that thrilled her artistic soul.

  They stopped for lunch and made their way out into the street, where they sat outside a cafe and ate sandwiches and drank beer, watching life pass by in the Village, discussing the mishmash of cultures that survived in New York City.

  Valerie sat back in her seat. ‘I love this city,’ she declared with a happy smile. ‘There is such a buzz about it. I know every metropolis is that way but here, somehow it seems different. I love the smell of the pretzels on the cart over there, the hot-dog stand, the way women dress. The exuberance of the people. The whole attitude of the place. I just love it!’

  Max looked delighted. ‘I am so pleased you feel that way, because it shows in your work. But never ever lose you Englishness, if there is such a word, because Valerie my dear, that is an important part of your charm.’

  Laughing she said, ‘Oh Max, flattery will get you everything!’

  He grinned broadly. ‘I’m banking on it! Come on, back to the grind.’

  The following week, Max accompanied her to Vogue’s office for the photo shoot. It was a long, tiring day for Valerie, but she enjoyed every moment. The hairdressers and make-up artists did their work and Valerie was photographed in various designer gowns, draped amidst different settings. She had a natural elegance and poise, which pleased the professional photographers and when they showed her the rushes, she was amazed at the results.

  Max was looking at the photographs over her shoulder. ‘Didn’t I tell you Mrs Johnson that you were a beautiful woman? When this issue hits the news stands, your name will be on everyone’s lips.’

  The editor, picked up one photograph and said, ‘We’ll put this on the cover.’

  Valerie gasped. ‘The cover? I’m going to be on the cover of Vogue magazine, you’re kidding!’

  ‘No way,’ said the editor. ‘Take a good look, this is a superb picture.’

  It showed Valerie in a sumptuous evening gown sitting in front of an easel, a paintbrush in her hand as if she was working.

  ‘We’ll publicise you as the new find in the art world. I expect it to increase our sales.’

  A while later, Max and she left the offices, Valerie still in a whirl, unable to believe what had happened. Max hailed a taxi and took her to the Plaza Hotel to celebrate.

  They sat at a table, ordered a meal and drank champagne.

  As she lifted her glass, Valerie looked across the table at her tutor. ‘How can I ever thank you, Max? All this has happened because of you.’

  He took her hand in his. ‘No, my dear, this has happened through your God-given talent. I’m the lucky one to be part of your success.’

  ‘But where is this going to lead and where will it end? It’s far too good to be true, it’s bound to end at some time and that will be so sad.’

  ‘Hey! That’s no way to talk. You are at the start of a great career, which can continue as long as you want to work.’ He hesitated. ‘The only thing that might suffer is your marriage, if I’m honest with you.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ She asked with some trepidation.

  ‘Ross will have to get used to the idea that your work is important and will take up much of your time. He will also have to get used to the fact that you will no doubt become somewhat of a celebrity. The male ego can be unpredictable. Could he handle that?’

  Valerie laughed with delight. ‘Oh, Max, I really think you are putting too much store at my becoming that well known.’

  He sipped his drink. ‘Time will tell,’ he said.

  Three weeks later, the issue of Vogue magazine hit the news stands and bookshops. Valerie stopped on her way to the studio and bought a copy. The man behind the counter glanced at the cover then at Valerie.

  ‘Geez, honey, that’s you! Holy cow!’

  She laughed with delight. ‘Yes it is.’

  ‘Hey!’ he said to the customer waiting, ‘This girl is on the cover, take a look!’

  The man did and smiled at her. ‘Great picture, you are a very beautiful woman.’

  Feeling embarrassed she thanked him and hurried away. When she walked into the studio and told Max he burst out laughing.

  ‘There you go, that’s just the beginning!’ He then picked up the copy he’d bought earlier. ‘I shall keep this and start a scrapbook of my protégé and when I’m an old man, I’ll sit in my rocking chair and reminisce.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she chided, unable to cope with any more compliments. ‘I’ll make us some coffee and get down to work or they’ll be nothing to show for all this hype!’

  The following day, Gloria Johnson and Laura, Ross’s ex-girlfriend, were out shopping when they saw the copy of Vogue displayed on a bookstand in one of the stores. Gloria did a double take as she caught sight of the cover and grabbed Laura’s arm.

  ‘Am I seeing things? Is that Valerie on the cover of Vogue? No, it can’t be!’

  They both stopped and looked closely. Laura’s face paled. ‘Yes it’s her! I can’t believe it, what’s she doing there?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out!’ Gloria snapped and bought a copy. The two women went into the coffee shop in the store to look inside. As they poured over the pages, both were speechless.

  ‘How on earth did she manage this?’ Laura was candescent with rage. ‘She must know someone.’

  ‘A new find in the art world,’ Gloria quoted. ‘Well, I know she showed some of her paintings and was written up in the New York Times, but this …’ She was at a loss for words.

  She wasn’t the only person to be surprised. Gracie Rider spotted the picture in the news stand in the parade where she worked. She stopped, made sure it was Valerie whom she’d met as a GI bride and had shared a cabin with. When she realised it was, she bought a copy and rushed to show Milly.

  ‘Look! This is my friend Valerie. We came across to the States together!’ They sat down and read all about her.

  ‘She’s doing really well,’ said Gracie. ‘I’m so pleased, she was a lovely woman. Her husband is a lawyer, they live in New York and she’s still there, it says so.’

  ‘Why don’t you look up her number and give her a call,’ Milly suggested.

  ‘I don’t think I can do that, she’ll think it’s because she’s important.’

  ‘I thought you said she was nice?’

  ‘She is, honestly. She came from a well-to-do family, but she didn’t have any airs and graces.’

  ‘There you go. I’ll find her home number and one evening you can call her. Listen, she’ll be pleased to hear from someone from her own country.’

  That night, Gracie went home with the copy of Vogue and Valerie’s home number, which she put in her wallet.

  Ross was sharing the limelight with his wife, showing the copy of Vogue to all his staff, saying how well she was doing, how proud he was of her and bathing in her glory! He bought a huge bouquet of flowers to take home that evening and booked a table at Sardi’s for dinner.

  When she arrived home, she was overwhelmed by his attention and delighted that he was taking it all so well.

  ‘Well honey, Sardi’s is where all the stars dine so I thought it a fitting place to take you to celebrate.’

  She was deeply touched at his thoughtfulness and took care dressing for the evening. When they arrived at the restaurant, the manager was more than welcoming. He complimented her on the cover. She thanked him, somewhat puzzled as to how he knew, but then Ross explained.

  ‘I told him when I booked the table. After all honey, you are going to be someone and I wanted them to know who you were. One day a picture of you could join all these.’ He pointed to the walls covered with signed copies of movie stars and other public figures.
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  She was angry. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake Ross, I thought we were going to have a private dinner to celebrate without all this fuss. Don’t do that again if we go out or I’ll get up and leave!’

  He looked nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand you at all.’

  ‘That’s becoming obvious to me as each day passes. Well let me explain. I love my work and as it happens so far I have met with a little success, but don’t let it go to your head. I don’t want all this fuss, I just want to get on with my life, as quietly as possible!’

  ‘Are you crazy? Do you realise just how hard it is in this city to get recognition for anything? People have to slug their guts out to get where you are today, yet you dismiss it so readily. I would give my right arm to have your exposure!’

  ‘That’s where we are different, Ross. I paint for the love of it and nothing more. You are ambitious and that’s your way, and in your line I can see you must be in order to succeed, but I’m not like you in that respect!’

  The waiter came over to take their order but there was a tense atmosphere between them for the rest of the meal and as they ate, mostly in silence, Valerie remembered that Max had predicted that their marriage might suffer. She couldn’t help but think he was right in his assumption.

  Two months later, Max arranged another viewing, but this time solely of Valerie’s paintings. There were several watercolours she’d painted earlier and three of those worked in oils. In the foyer of the art gallery was a blown-up photo of her on the front cover of Vogue.

  This time it was Ross who accompanied her, resplendent in a dinner jacket, delighted that he would be recognised as her husband, his arm round Valerie’s waist to emphasise his position. Charming those who were introduced to him.

  Max walked over to them, shook Ross by the hand, kissed Valerie on her cheek and, making excuses to Ross, led her away to talk to the reporters. This time the price of her paintings had skyrocketed. She hid a smile as she looked at the price tickets beside the label with the title of the painting, inwardly doubting that anyone would pay that much.

  She was so busy during the next hour, she didn’t see Ross to talk to, but as her last client walked away, she glanced over to him and was puzzled when she saw him handing a business card to a gentleman to whom he was chatting. The smug grin on Ross’s face made her walk over to him.

  ‘What was that all about?’ she asked.

  ‘I think I’ve just got myself another client!’ he declared, smiling at her.

  ‘You what?’ She was furious. ‘Have you been touting for business at my exhibition?’

  ‘What better place? There are rich pickings here, honey.’

  Trying to keep her voice low she raged at him. ‘How dare you! How dare you use me in this way. It’s like a form of prostitution and you working as a pimp! This is the last time you will be invited to any of my viewings, understand?’

  He looked surprised. ‘You can’t mean that?’

  ‘Indeed I do! I will make sure you are refused entry to another!’ She walked away, fuming.

  Max had been watching this scene from across the room. Taking two glasses of champagne from a tray, he wandered over to her. ‘You look as if you need this,’ he said and handed her a glass.

  Her eyes flashing she turned to her mentor. ‘You won’t believe this but Ross has been touting for business. Here! Tonight! I won’t have him use me this way. I’ve told him he will never come to another viewing of mine!’

  Max was silent. It didn’t surprise him. He didn’t like Ross Johnson, never had and he could well understand Valerie’s distress and anger. Once again, Ross had let her down.

  Valerie looked at him. ‘Get me out of here Max before I explode!’

  He took her glass and put it on a table with his, held her arm and led her out of the building through a back entrance, hailed a taxi and took her to his apartment.

  When they arrived, Valerie threw off her wrap, lit a cigarette and walked up and down the room fuming. Max ignored her and made some coffee then he led her to the settee and sat her down, the coffee placed on the table in front of them. He drew her into his arms and held her close.

  ‘Calm down,’ he said softly. ‘What’s done is done, it’s over. He won’t be able to do that again if he is barred from any further exhibitions. Now just relax.’

  Tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks. She looked up at Max. ‘How could he do such a thing?’

  Max gazed at her tear-stained face and slowly leaning forward, he kissed her. For just a moment her lips remained closed, but then she returned his kisses willingly. There was a hunger in both of them and the need within them grew until they both rapidly removed their clothing, Max lifted her naked body into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

  There was almost a savagery about their lovemaking at first, but then they took their time, pleasuring one another, leading each other to a height of ecstasy until eventually they lay in each other’s arms, replete … and in love.

  Valerie stroked Max’s cheek. ‘I have been a complete fool not to realise what you mean to me,’ she told him.

  ‘I fell in love with you the day we met at the coffee shop, remember?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I was studying a map of the city and you offered to show me round. Oh dear Max, what do we do now?’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘I want to paint and be with you,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘When we are together, I’m happy, I feel alive – but I’m married to Ross.’

  ‘Then you have to make a decision. Do you want to stay married to him?’

  She put her hand over her eyes and rubbed them. ‘No, I don’t love him any more. He’s not the man I thought I knew and, after meeting his family, I can see why. His father lives for his business and Gloria is a ruthless manipulator. He takes after them both. It’s not how I want to live.’

  ‘If you leave him, there may be a scandal now you’re getting well known. It could harm your career.’

  She started to laugh. ‘I don’t care about my career! I just want to paint, that’s all.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ he said chuckling, ‘you know what they say, any publicity is good publicity and to be honest darling, your talent will carry you through. If not, I’ll have to keep you!’

  ‘Oh, a kept woman, how decadent! I kind of like that, it sounds exciting.’

  He drew her nearer and with a sigh said, ‘I guess we should get dressed and find a cab to take you home.’

  ‘I don’t want to go home, Max, I want to stay the night with you,’ she whispered.

  ‘If you do, there will be trouble, you know that?’

  ‘Do you want me to go?’

  He pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and kissed her. ‘Are you crazy?’

  ‘I think I must be, but I love it. Max darling – put the light out!’

  Chapter Seventeen

  The following morning, Valerie, woke and went to stretch, but Max had wrapped his arms about her as they slept, he stirred as she moved.

  He rubbed his eyes sleepily. ‘Good morning,’ he said quietly and gave her a leisurely kiss. ‘Sleep well?’

  Now she was able to stretch. ‘Mm, like a baby.’

  ‘Would you like some coffee?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she murmured and wound her arms around his neck, snuggling closer, feeling his bare flesh against hers.

  They made love slowly, enjoying every move, every touch, lost to their need for one another, luxuriating in their newfound intimacy – loath to spoil the moment – until they both were satisfied.

  Max kissed her forehead. ‘Now I think we could both do with a cup of coffee.’ He climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of trousers, at the same time tossing her his dressing gown.

  ‘I’ll take a quick shower whilst you’re doing that,’ she said and made her way to the bathroom. As she stood beneath the warm flow of water, she remembered vividly how his hands had covered her body, how he had made her feel, how he’d brought her to a clim
ax, how she’d felt loved and cosseted for the first time in months. She also knew that staying the night with Max would change everything. Her marriage was over and Ross would be ruthless when he discovered her infidelity. But she didn’t care. She was in love with Max Brennen and wanted to share the rest of her life with him, she would just have to face the consequences. She stepped out of the shower, dried herself, put on the dressing gown and went into the kitchen.

  Max had been busy. He’d cooked eggs and bacon, poured glasses of orange juice and made toast. When Valerie looked surprised at the spread, he laughed.

  ‘Sex always makes me hungry,’ he explained. ‘Come on tuck in.’

  As they ate he said, ‘I’ll come back to your apartment with you.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘I don’t want you to face Ross without me. I need to be there.’

  ‘Ross will have gone to the office by now and although I appreciate your offer Max, I need to handle this alone.’

  He looked concerned. ‘I want you to move in here. You can’t stay with Ross when he knows you spent the night with me. That’s even if he agrees to let you do so.’

  ‘I’ll pack my things today, but I’ll have to wait until he comes home to talk to him. I can’t just walk out.’

  ‘Of course you can’t. Are you sure you don’t want me with you to give you support? I’ll do so willingly.’

  She looked lovingly at him. ‘Thank you darling but seeing you would be like a red rag to a bull as far as Ross is concerned. It’s best I do this on my own. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back later tonight.’

  After eating, Valerie donned her evening dress and borrowing a raincoat from Max, put it on. It made it a little less obvious that she was inappropriately dressed for the hour of the day. Later, when she stepped into the cab Max had called, the driver took one look at her and smiled to himself, but didn’t pass any remark, for which she was grateful.

  Valerie walked into her apartment and gazed around. When she’d first arrived here, she’d been full of hope for her future with the man she’d married but now, just months later, she was about to leave it all behind. She lit a cigarette and walked outside onto the balcony and looked out over the city. She was leaving her husband but she was so very pleased she wasn’t leaving New York. This city soothed her soul, made her feel she’d come home. She’d never felt this about any other country she’d visited through her father’s work, but here was where she belonged. The ring of the telephone interrupted her thoughts and she walked into the room and picked up the receiver.