by June Tate
‘That was really stupid,’ she said and went to open the car door.
‘I thought it was kind of nice,’ he said with a grin.
She looked at him. ‘You had better keep your distance Rick. Because you are going to get me into trouble and I don’t need it!’ She closed the door and walked away.
Back in Greenwich Village, Max and Valerie had returned home and were unpacking the camper van before Max drove it back to a nearby garage. They had been so happy during their time in Colorado, but now had to return to reality.
Valerie opened the window to let in some fresh air, picked up the pile of mail from the mailbox in the entrance and was sorting through it when Max returned with the groceries they’d bought on the way home.
‘I’ll make some coffee,’ he said.
Valerie didn’t answer. She was reading a letter from Ross’s lawyer telling her that her husband had filed for a divorce. She handed it to Max.
He quickly read it. ‘He hasn’t wasted any time,’ he remarked.
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘but it was expected. Have you got a lawyer?’
‘Oh yes.’ He put the letter down. ‘I’ll make an appointment for us to see him later this week. Come and drink your coffee, then we’ll unpack. After, I’ll shower and then we’ll eat.’
She gazed at him with a worried frown. ‘He’s going to be very difficult, you know that don’t you?’
‘Of course, but we expected that. Come on darling, we’ll meet all that when we have to. Life goes on.’ He kissed her forehead and then poured the coffee.
As they sat at the table Max said, ‘You do realise that when this divorce is made public, the press will be on to it in a flash, don’t you?’
With a look of surprise she asked, ‘Why would they be interested?’
‘Because the Johnsons are amongst the A-list in this city and because you, darling, are also very much in the news. The reporters will have a ball! If I’m right, they’ll be photographing our every move. Scandal sells papers, Valerie.’
The idea appalled her. ‘Isn’t there anything we can do about it?’
‘You’re kidding right? No, we’ll just have to behave in a civilised manner, but there’s no way we should hide from them. You had your reasons to leave Ross, which will come out in court. I’m afraid we’ll just have to face them.’
Nothing is hidden in a city like New York and pretty soon Max was proved right, as one morning they left the apartment to find a photographer outside. The flash of his camera caught them by surprise. The photographer just grinned at them and walked away.
Max took her hand as they made their way to the shops. ‘It’s started,’ he said.
During the following weeks, pictures of Valerie and Max were often in the papers and those of Ross, leaving his office, entering his home – always alone. He made certain of this as the pictures of his wife were usually of her with Max. It strengthened his case he thought and so was careful to seem to live a solitary life. To be the victim. His family’s money and position helped too. The Johnson family had some pretty heavyweight friends in high places, so the press trod very carefully when handling them.
News filtered down to Barton where the New York society news was reported and Jeff very soon caught wind of what was happening. At dinner one night, he read the society column and looked at his wife.
‘Didn’t I tell you that your friend the artist was having an affair. It was blatantly obvious.’ He cast the paper aside. ‘Imagine coming here with her lover, that’s pretty low.’
‘I don’t know why you’re so worked up about it, it’s none of our affair!’ snapped Gracie.
‘I guess not, except she’s a friend of yours. Didn’t she tell you about it when you went for your walk?’
‘No, she didn’t,’ Gracie lied. ‘Why would she?’
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. ‘I don’t believe you.’
She glared at him. ‘Please yourself.’
He stood up and took her arm in a vice-like grip. ‘Just as long as you don’t take it into your head to do the same. You double cross me, you’ll be sorry you did!’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous!’ She shook off his hold and went into the kitchen so as not to let him see she was shaking. If he knew she’d had a drink with Rick … well, she didn’t know what he’d do. She would keep well away from her brother-in-law until she could leave this godforsaken country and go home. The longer she stayed in this loveless marriage, pretending to be the good wife, in bed and out of it, the harder it was becoming every day, especially now that Jeff was back to his old ways of gambling.
Chapter Twenty
It was now late September and somewhat cooler temperatures had replaced the searing heat and humidity of New York. It was the beginning of fall, as the Americans called autumn. Having lived in Singapore in her youth, Valerie had taken the heat in her stride, thankful for the air cooler in Max’s apartment, but she welcomed the change even so.
They had both been to see Max’s lawyer, but had been advised that Ross held the upper hand in the divorce case, even though Valerie had stated that she’d left him because of his attitude to all things financial, which made living with him untenable.
‘But unfortunately, Mrs Johnson, you immediately moved in with Mr Brennen, so your husband has sited him as correspondent. Had you set up a home on your own, it would have been different.’ The lawyer raised his eyebrows and shrugged. ‘You don’t have a leg to stand on, I’m afraid. He can have you for adultery.’
As they left the office, Max put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Never mind, he didn’t tell us something we didn’t already know. There’s no point us going to court to defend the case, we’ll just have to take what comes.’
‘He’ll claim damages and court costs,’ she said.
‘Then you’ll be free, that in itself is worth every cent. After, we can get on with our lives.’
Ross, too, was anxious to get things settled. He was sick of seeing photos of his wife with Max Brennen in different locations. The press had been relentless in their pursuit of them and to a lesser degree with Ross himself. But to his great annoyance his mother had been very vocal whenever a reporter had questioned her about her son’s marriage.
‘Well you know how it is,’ Gloria had told one reporter, ‘these boys go to war fighting for their country, putting their lives on the line. They get stationed in Britain waiting to fight, feel lonely, and marry in haste to some woman who is entirely unsuited to life out here!’
‘But your daughter-in-law has had great success in this country with her paintings,’ the reporter had persisted, ‘and I believe she comes from a wealthy family. He father worked in Singapore for the British government.’
Gloria floored him with an icy glare.
‘That maybe so, but she doesn’t understand the American way of life, so she was unsuitable as a wife for my son!’
The reporter watched her stormy exit with a grin. ‘Hell, I’d hate to have her as my mother-law,’ he muttered to himself.
When Ross had read the report in the paper, he’d rung his mother, furious at her intervention.
‘I have asked you not to say a word other than “no comment”, Mother!’
‘Maybe so, but it makes me so mad when I see pictures of her with that man!’
‘I don’t give a damn about that. Just keep out of my business! You are not helping!’ He slammed down the receiver.
That evening he was going to a dinner given by the law society at the Plaza Hotel on Central Park. He had mixed feelings about it. It was an event he needed to be seen at as a lawyer of repute, but his father would also be there and they hadn’t met since he’d set up on his own. The two other lawyers who had left to join him would also be with him and Ross wondered what kind of reception he would get if he bumped into his father.
He found out as soon as the three of them arrived and walked into the foyer. Leo Johnson was standing there, talking to another man, but saw Ross enter the hotel. They look
ed at one another. It was Ross who made the first move. He walked over to him.
‘Good evening, Father,’ he said.
‘Evening Ross!’ he said gruffly. The man he was talking to walked away.
‘You’re looking well,’ said Ross.
‘I’m fine, not pleased with all the gossip in the papers about your divorce. Not good for the family name and reputation!’ he stated bluntly.
‘Yes, well there’s not much I can do about that. However, the case comes up next month so then it’ll be over.’
His father glared at him. ‘Pity! I rather liked Valerie. I thought she’d have been an asset to you. She had style, you could tell she came from a good background – pity you couldn’t have made it work.’ He turned and walked away.
Ross felt like a child who’d been chastised, which didn’t sit well with him and made him feel irritable all through dinner and then after. When he was at the bar, he was suddenly faced with Laura, his ex-girlfriend, who flung her arms around him and kissed him soundly, just as a photographer was on hand to record the incident. Ross was furious! He pushed her firmly away.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Taken aback by his anger, she looked startled. ‘Why Ross, I was just so pleased to see you, that’s all.’
‘You stupid bitch! Don’t you know I’m suing Valerie for a divorce? A picture of us kissing is the last thing I need!’
She was so angry, she threw the contents of the glass of wine she was holding in his face. The flash from the photographer caught the scene beautifully.
Ross, dripping wet, glared at Laura and walked out of the hotel.
The incident made the news the next day, to Valerie’s great amusement. She showed the pictures to Max. ‘Well it’s his turn now,’ she said with much hilarity. ‘Bet he’ll be livid!’
She was right. Ross stormed around his office after reading the paper and the headlines. Eminent lawyer Ross Johnson gets soaked by ex.
If any of my clients see this picture they will not be pleased, he thought. Especially the big company he was dealing with who were about to sign a contract the following week.
When days later they backed out of the deal, Ross was in a murderous mood.
He picked up the phone and rang Laura. When she answered he railed at her.
‘Your stupidity the other night, cost me an account that would have brought a lot of money into my business. Just keep away from me in future. Understand?’
‘I wouldn’t have you, Ross Johnson, if you were the last man on earth!’ she screamed down the phone. ‘No wonder your wife left you, she has my deepest sympathy!’
He was left holding the receiver as she rang off.
Despite the imminent divorce hanging over them like the Sword of Damocles, Max and Valerie were living together, happily. They had so much in common. They visited museums and art galleries, had heated discussions about a number of subjects and they shared the special world of the artist, working together in the studio or out at some location where they could find a different perspective for their paintings.
Valerie became a favourite with the local store owners, who loved to hear her accent and where her natural charm endeared her to them. She in turn, depicted them on canvas, showing the everyday life in the village.
Carlo was delighted to see himself and his store featured in one scene. ‘Senora, this is bellisimo!’ he cried. ‘You make me look very ’andsome, no?’
Laughing she said, ‘But Carlo, you are! I paint what I see.’
He clapped his hands with joy. ‘Anything you want, any time, you come see me!’
Max had overheard his comment and smiled. ‘I can see I’ll have to watch my back or that man will be making a move on you!’ He looked at the canvas. ‘That’s really good. I love the detail of the passers-by.’
Valerie had caught the feel of the Village with its inhabitants. The smiling black woman with her small child, the lanky young man on his roller skates, the headband he wore, keeping his long hair under control as he sped along the sidewalk. The elderly man slightly bent with age, the woman beside him, helping him manage the step into a nearby grocery store. The colourful display of goods outside the small shops. It had a warmth about it, a sense of belonging.
‘This is one for the next viewing, definitely,’ Max declared. ‘The public will love it!’
They had discussed when to hold another display of their work. Neither could decide whether it would be wiser to wait until after the divorce, or before. Would the press activity before the divorce work for them or against? It was a difficult decision; after all, their livelihoods depended on it.
‘You lose the affection of the public, you’re finished in any business,’ Max had said. In the end, they decided to wait. Time was on their side and it meant they would have more paintings to show.
Valerie was secretly pleased as she felt that any sales she made would go towards whatever cost would be incurred when the divorce went to court, knowing that Ross would do his utmost to make them pay.
In the home of Gracie Rider, money wasn’t a problem at the moment. Jeff seemed to be on a winning streak, so he was in the best of spirits, which made life for Gracie more than pleasant. She quietly slipped a few of the dollars Jeff had thrust at her every time he won into her bank account towards her fare back to England. She was still enjoying working for Milly, but she knew that this joie de vivre couldn’t last for ever.
As the month of September slowly passed, the temperature slowly cooled. Milly had warned her that the winter could be severe with heavy falls of snow and she didn’t relish the thought, having experienced snow on her arrival in the country. She remembered the extreme cold.
Milly told her. ‘One year we had six feet of the darned stuff!’
‘Yes I remember. I arrived here last January. Jeff kitted me out in warm clothes because of the cold.’
A week later, Jeff’s run of luck ran out! He came home in a foul temper and started drinking.
Gracie tried to talk him out of his mood. ‘You’ve had a good run,’ she said, ‘you’re bound to have a setback now and again.’
‘Since when did you become a specialist on poker?’ he sneered.
‘You know I’m not. It’s just common sense.’
He refused to listen and as he drank more and more, Gracie decided to go to bed out of his way.
How long she’d been asleep she didn’t know, but she woke when Jeff staggered into the room and undressed. She pretended to be asleep as he reached for her, but he wasn’t fooled.
‘I know you’re awake baby, come to papa.’
His stale breath made her feel nauseous and she pushed him away. ‘Not tonight,’ she said, ‘I can’t stand the smell of beer, and you reek of it.’
But he would have none of it. He gripped her breast so hard it made her wince.
‘Jeff, you’re hurting me!’ she cried.
He ignored her. The next twenty minutes would be forever carved on her soul as her drunken husband forced himself on her. When she struggled, he hit her so hard she saw stars. Eventually to evade another blow, she lay still until he’d finished invading her body with some force, then he turned over and went to sleep.
For a while, Gracie couldn’t move. Every bone in her body seemed to hurt. Her right eye was closing. She felt violated! She slowly climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. Soaking a flannel in cold water, she held it over her eye, but when she went to the toilet, she found she was bleeding. She started to cry.
She sat like that for a while, but the thought of seeing Jeff in the morning was terrifying. What if he was still in a bad mood? She made her way downstairs, reached for her handbag, took out a card and picked up the telephone, praying there would be an answer.
‘Hello!’
‘Rick! Rick!’ she started crying. ‘I need your help,’ she managed to say.
‘Gracie where are you?’
‘I’m at home, Jeff’s drunk and asleep. Help me Rick!’
‘I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ he said and put down the phone.
She grabbed her bag and a rug from a chair, put it round her shoulders, opened the front door and waited.
Rick came flying up the stairs, two at a time until he saw her. ‘Christ!’ he said. Then closing the door, he picked her up in his arms, took her downstairs, put her in the car, started the engine and drove away. When he reached his place, he helped her out and once again carried her inside, sitting her gently on a couch.
‘Oh, Gracie honey! What the hell happened?’
Between sobs she told him. But when she told him she was bleeding, he rang for a doctor, holding her and trying to comfort her whilst they waited. When the doctor arrived, Rick told him quickly what had happened.
The doctor examined Gracie and turning to Rick said, ‘We must get her into the hospital. We need to find out if she has any internal injuries.’
‘I’ll drive her there,’ said Rick.
The next few hours passed in a haze to Gracie. She was aware she’d been examined, had an X-ray and put into a hospital bed. Rick stayed with her all the time, saying little, just holding her hand.
The hospital doctor told them that apart from some tearing, fortunately Gracie wasn’t injured internally. She was badly bruised and they wanted to treat the swelling round the eye, to make sure there was no damage.
‘I’m going to give Mrs Rider a sedative so she’ll get a good night’s sleep. I suggest you come back in the morning,’ he told Rick.
He started to argue but Gracie, who had recovered enough to understand, urged him to go home. ‘Please, Rick. You get some sleep too. I can’t thank you enough for getting me out of that place.’
Taking her hands in his, he said, ‘You will never ever go back to my brother, understand?’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘Thank you. I don’t think I could face him again.’
He leant forward and kissed her forehead. ‘You get some sleep, you hear. I’ll come by tomorrow morning.’ He reluctantly left her to the care of the hospital staff and drove home, seething with rage.