There were days when she felt she was breaking apart, and this was one of them. She decided to try to make some conversation with Rubin. “Have you seen Leon this week?”
“No, but I spoke to him.”
“What did he have to say?”
“He wants to talk to me about some legal matters. …”
“Legal matters?”
“Yes. It’s probably about the estate. …”
She had something important to talk about too, and she might as well bring it up now. “Rubin …? I don’t want to upset you … but … well, you know I never wanted to live here … and now that you’re home … Rubin, please, let’s go back to Paris. We’ll be happier. You said you wanted to paint …”
She waited for his reply. When there was none, she said, “Rubin, you seem to have left me.”
“No,” he said, “I haven’t left you, but you’re asking me to do something I simply can’t do.”
“I thought, eventually, that that was what you wanted to do. …In fact, you once told me your father advised it—”
“He advised, and besides, that was before the war. …I can never leave London, Magda. This is my home. I never realized before now how much I love it.”
“And what about me?” she asked softly. “Don’t I matter?”
He came to her, holding her. “You are my life, Magda … you and our child … but the past is over. No, dearest, I can’t leave this place, it’s like a safe port after all the—”
“But for me it’s like a hell. I’ve nothing here, I’ve been ostracized. Even Leon seems to have changed toward me—”
“No, darling, that isn’t true, it’s your imagination. You’ve had a very difficult time, God knows, but now I’m home. …”
That night Rubin reached out for her. He held her close and kissed her … felt her … explored her. …And at last she felt him grow hard. She helped him find his way as he entered her. It was something less than fulfilling, but at least she felt some release. …
Later, Rubin said, “It will be better, Magda … I promise it will. You’ve been very patient. …I love you. …”
She was asleep before he finished talking.
In the morning, lying there beside him, she felt on the edge of tears. His well-meaning solicitude was more than she could bear. She could still feel the touch of his body … his near-fleshless ribs, his bony thin legs stretched across her. …Oh God, he was like a cadaver.
But Rubin was comparatively cheerful … at least he’d regained some of his self-esteem as a man … as he chatted about going to see Leon and then they’d all go for a walk in the park. …
Magda begged off. A headache.
As Rubin waited at the door of Leon’s house, he wondered briefly why Leon had seemed to make a point of suggesting he come alone. He’d hardly have brought Magda along to a discussion of business matters in any case. …Magda had mentioned that Leon had been slightly aloof, but he was certain she, and he, were reading something into nothing.
It was the first time he’d been in Leon’s house in years, he realized, as Leon now came forward to greet him.
“Rubin,” he said, “how are you getting along?”
“I feel better every day. It’s good to be back in London.”
“Yes,” said Leon, “isn’t it …? Sit down, Rubin, and let me tell you straight off the situation we’re faced with.”
Rubin sat down.
“Rubin, I’m afraid you’re in for a rather bad shock, but I just don’t know how I can delay telling you any longer—”
“What is it?”
“Our solicitor came round a few days ago to speak to me about you.”
“Why didn’t he call me?”
“Because I told him how ill you’ve been. The truth is … Magda has spent almost all of your inheritance. …In fact, there isn’t enough money to pay your creditors.”
Rubin was stunned. He shook his head in disbelief. “That can’t be true. …When I left London there was fifty thousand pounds. How could she possibly have spent so much in less than five years?”
“She’s been very extravagant, I’m afraid.”
“Still, fifty thousand pounds? I don’t believe it. …There must be a mistake.”
“There’s no mistake. I’ve been over all the accounts.”
Rubin was completely bewildered.” That was all the money we had … she knew that. …Still, with the money from Father’s estate, we should be all right.”
“Unfortunately,” Leon continued, taking a deep breath, “you and I were not here when Father was dying, and it seems Maurice talked Father into giving him power of attorney, since you and I were not here, in case Father died before he could make a new will. Which is exactly what happened.”
“What does that mean … in concrete terms?”
“Father’s will is null and void.”
Rubin went white. “I don’t understand. Is Maurice withholding my share? Where do I stand in terms of the estate?”
Leon finally answered. “Without, I’m afraid, a shilling.”
“And Maurice has done this?”
“Before Father died, Maurice convinced Father that there should be someone to provide for the family and invest the money, in case we didn’t return … especially for the sake of the children.”
Rubin laughed.” You have no children at all, and I have one, so that means Maurice and Phillip.”
“That’s right.”
“How did you find out about all this?”
“Shortly after I came home Maurice and Phillip called me into the conference room. Maurice did all the talking. He told me his side of the story.”
“And how are you to be treated, Leon?”
Leon hesitated “…The same as Phillip and Maurice.”
“But not me … and you allowed them to do this to me?”
“Rubin, I fought with them. I said things I never thought I’d say to a brother. But Maurice will not give an inch.”
“And what about Phillip?”
“Phillip is on your side, but Maurice has the power of attorney and, believe me, he will not budge. Worse, he’s convinced that he’s justified.”
“But why? What have I—”
“It’s his hatred for … Magda. It’s become an obsession. …He’s punishing you for her. He even had Magda investigated right after your marriage. He … they … know about her past—”
“I see. …” said Rubin. “Is there anything else?”
Leon gave Rubin an envelope containing a record of Magda’s extravagances. “Try not to be bitter, Rubin. I’m going to help you. We’ll work out something. …”
Rubin hardly heard him. He was trying to think about how to tell Magda, how to sort out his feelings. How could Maurice, his own flesh and blood … and Magda … In the car on the way home he berated himself for having been an incredibly stupid ass, for being so irresponsible as to expect a young woman, a girl, really—who knew nothing about the value of money—to take over control of so much. At first he was staggered by the contents of the envelope Leon had given him from their solicitor, a record of expenditures for parties, jewels, gowns and gifts, and then once again he tried to remain calm as he reminded himself that she had been left as abruptly on her own, in her fashion, as so many millions of others at the outbreak of war. Her life had been wrenched, too. …Still, he thought as he put the records back into the envelope and took up the package that Leon had also given him—somewhat reluctantly, he’d thought at the time—and tore it open to examine its contents, as much as he could justify or at least explain her spending—he’d try not to think of it as extravagances—he couldn’t help feeling a resentment, even an anger. …Who, after all, wanted to come home to find himself without resources, stripped by his own brother, spent to the bottom by his young wife …?
And now his nagging anger gave way to an eruption as his attention turned to the contents of the package … to pictures of Magda with Camail, of Magda with Alexis at her side after the opening of
the one-woman show, and the newspaper caption about “LONELY WIVES LIVING OUT THE WAR IN THE ABSENCE OF HUSBANDS AT THE FRONT” (a headline that had infuriated Magda and Alexis both, at the time, but which, of course, they’d had no control over). Oh yes, he thought, she’d written him about her wonderful success on the stage and her new source of income, although apparently she’d squandered even that—but this was something else. …
He decided not to waste any time, and when he got home immediately confronted her with the contents of the envelope and package. The clippings caught her eye first, and she realized how they distorted the truth … those charming, so civilized and well-born gentlemen Maurice and Phillip Hack, and their charming and so civilized ladies had done their job well. Looking at Rubin, at the anger … anguish … in his eyes, she was for the moment panicked, terrified of him. …His cheeks were sunken, his eyes seemed never to leave her face. …She tried to explain about Peter Scott and how he introduced her to Camail, and how there had never been anything between her and Alexis, but the more she talked the worse it sounded, and the less he seemed able to believe her. …And then when he told her the truth of their finances, she was dumbfounded. How was that possible? Surely he was joking, though the look on his face clearly said he was not. It was, at that moment, a look of anger on the edge of rage, and rage on the edge of … hate? My God, yes, she’d spent money, but he’d told her they had a fortune, and most of what she’d earned herself she’d given to the war effort, thinking in some way it would help bring Rubin back to her sooner. …
Abruptly he seemed to subside, to look at her like a defeated man, which frightened and, frankly, disgusted her some. She listened without hearing as he repeated that there was no inheritance, that they could no longer go on living where they were, that he’d need her jewels to appraise and sell.
Feeling numb, she went to the safe and took out everything. She put the jewels on the table in front of him. Then, without a word, she left the room, walked down the stairs and out into the brisk afternoon air, forgetting to shut the door behind her.
She needed to think, to collect her thoughts, she told herself, but actually she had only one thought, intrusive, overwhelming. She located a public phone and called Alexis. The phone rang an eternity before …
“…Hello.”
Thank God he was home. “Alexis? This is Magda. I have to see you—”
“Speak up, Magda, I can barely hear you. Is everything all right—?”
“I wouldn’t be calling this way if everything were all right …Alexis … I must see you, I need you … now. …”
“Shall I send a car for you?” Clearly she was in no condition to explain at the moment.
“Yes, I mean no, tomorrow … at ten. Alexis—”
“I’ll be there, Magda. Now, please try—” But she’d hung up.
When she got home she learned that Rubin was out, which she was thankful for. She tried to stay calm, not to think too much about what she was doing, had done, and was grateful for Jeanette’s interruption with some talk about her day in the park with Miss Williams. Magda nodded, smiled and then told her to run along, that mama was tired, needed a rest. Oh my God, how she needed a rest … escape. …
At five o’clock Rubin came home, completely deflated, not a trace of the earlier flare-up. He even took complete responsibility for the fix they were in. He should have taught her more about the value of money before he went off. He told her that he’d sold the jewelry, and added, “Perhaps if we sell some of our other things there will be enough to take a small place. …”
She couldn’t bring herself to answer him.
“And if we pull together—and with Leon’s help, which he’s promised—I can buy a small business or even get started again as a solicitor. …What do you think, Magda?”
She drew in her breath. “Whatever you feel is best …”
The next morning at ten she was waiting for Alexis’ car. When she reached his house his joy was apparent, though he did his best to control it until he’d heard her out.
She didn’t keep him waiting. “Alexis, I’m leaving him.”
His face masked his delight. “And when did you decide that?”
“I think from the moment I saw him … the day he returned—”
“How does one fall in and out of love so quickly, Magda?”
She looked at him, not realizing he wasn’t so much asking a question as testing her … as she was herself. “I honestly believed I did love him. He took me out of one world and put me into another … and I liked the world he seemed to offer me. …When I met Rubin, you know what I was … I’ve kept no secrets from you. But when he got back … well, I finally realized it wasn’t love at all. …I’d fallen in love with the physical part of a man … and his world … I really didn’t even know at all.” She took a sip of wine. “You and I, Alexis, have shared more together … without sex, though I must admit that I did confuse that with love, in fact I thought it was love. Maybe, if he hadn’t gone away it might have grown, deepened, but who can say?”
“In other words, you’ve lived in a make-believe world?”
“Yes.”
“And there isn’t anything to be salvaged?”
“No … I’m sorry, but I simply can’t stand him. I know that sounds cruel, but there’s been cruelty on both sides. …” And she told him about the family, and how Maurice had swindled Rubin, how really cruel they’d been to her, worked from the beginning to destroy the marriage and drive her away. …And how she’d wanted to live in Paris but he’d insisted on staying in London for the family … the damned family that was destroying him too. …“I keep telling myself we’ll both be better off, that with me gone maybe Maurice will change his mind about the money and—”
“And isn’t the money also one of the reasons you want to leave?”
She stopped short, and looked directly at him. “Yes, that’s true, Alexis. I will not lie to you. I’m not going to live without love and money. I’ve been through poverty, I’m not going to be poor again.”
“I admire your candor. …And what now?” he said, hoping her answer would be the one he’d waited years to hear.
“I want to live in Paris … I don’t want a special bench in heaven as a martyr … I want to go away with you, if you want me. …If you don’t, I’ll go alone—”
“I want you, Magda. I always have, you know that. …But what about your child?”
She hesitated, thinking for a moment that he might properly have been referring to Rubin, who certainly wasn’t a man, not any longer, and she was sorry but, as she’d said, heaven had enough martyrs. …But yes, what about Jeanette, her darling, Jeanette whom she loved but had to separate from before they were all destroyed. Damn it, she was no monstrous, unfeeling mother, but she was a woman and there was no way to preserve the woman and stay as the mother. …She couldn’t really explain all this to Alexis now, not now, and so what she managed to get out sounded cold, colder than she felt or meant. …“Jeanette,” she told him, “will get along without me, better, I suspect than with me. She loves her father. And somehow, I’m not sure how yet, but somehow I’ll manage to keep track of her, to watch over her … although I’m sure she’ll come to hate me in time, the terrible mother who deserted her and her father. …”
Magda poured herself another port and drank it quickly. “Listen to me, Alexis. I didn’t pursue Rubin. Believe me, it was the other way around. So do me the favor of not making me feel guilty. …And I repeat, once I’m out of his life I’m sure his precious family will reinstate him, he’ll be forgiven his transgressions. This could turn out very well for him. …”
Alexis smiled. “Magda … you don’t need to justify yourself … not to me. I love you, Magda. I want you. But I’m not Rubin. I’ll indulge you, take care of you, love you. But understand this too … if you ever betray me I’ll kill you.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded as though he might be joking, but Magda knew Alexis too well for that. He would do as he said.
It was not a threat, it was a promise.
When their eyes met again, they had made their pact “Now … you’ll need a passport, which we’ll get today. When would you like to leave?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll make arrangements for tomorrow. First, well go to my villa in Cannes.”
“Why not Paris?”
“Don’t you suppose Rubin will wonder what’s happened to you?”
“And Paris will be the first place he’ll look?”
“I should think so. We can do without scenes … besides, it might be just the thing for you. …Life’s been very difficult for you. …”
“Are you laughing at me, Alexis?”
“No, but I was thinking … it pays not to start a new life with illusions. When a man gambles, he should consider all the odds. Rubin didn’t.”
Somehow, she got through the night. The next morning, Rubin left early. She thanked God for that. She went in to see her daughter, hoping she would be as strong as she needed to be.
Jeanette was reading aloud to herself. For one long moment, Magda’s determination wavered. This was the child to whom she had given life … a part of herself she was leaving behind. A tight knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she sat beside her daughter and took her hand. “Petite … Mama has something to tell you, and you must not cry. …Can you do that for me? Good. Now, Mama is going away for a little while. …”
Days of Winter Page 18