Never Leave Me (1953)

by Robbins, Harold

  “Good,” I grinned. “I was told to see Mr. Proctor.” I opened the door of her office and walked on through to Brady’s door.

  Her hand caught at my arm. “Please don’t, Brad,” she begged. “He’ll only make it worse for both of us.” There was terror in her eyes.

  I looked at her. I could feel her hand trembling on my arm. I could feel anger rising in me. What kind of a man was he to make another human feel so frightened and insecure? And though she didn’t know it, it was even worse in her case. She was his daughter. I put my hand over hers gently.

  “Sandy,” I said softly. “You don’t have to be afraid of him any more. When we leave this office, he won’t be any different from any of us.”

  Her eyes were wide. “What are you going to do?”

  “Show him that he’s not God,” I said, opening the door.

  Chris was sitting with his back to the door, facing Brady behind his desk. Brady saw us first. He began to get to his feet angrily. “I told you I didn’t want to see you,” he said coldly.

  “I wanted to see you,” I said, stepping into the office. I heard Bob come in after me and close the door.

  “You were told to report to Mr. Proctor,” Brady said.

  Chris was on his feet now, staring at me. I let my gaze go right through him. “I report to nobody,” I said. “Least of all the office boy.”

  I started towards the desk. Chris made a move as if to stop me. I looked at him coldly and he stepped back to let me pass. I could see Brady’s hand moving towards the buzzer on his desk. “I wouldn’t call your policemen if I were you, Brady,” I said quickly. “You might live to regret it.”

  His hand froze over the buzzer. “What do you mean?”

  I lowered the boom. “Do you know that your daughter hates you?”

  His face was suddenly white. I could feel him staring deep into me, burning into my mind. We were the only two people in the room now.

  His tongue ran over his lips, trying to moisten their dryness. His lips moved. “You’re lying!” he exploded, the colour flooding back into his face.

  Chris’s voice came over my shoulder. “You may as well leave, Brad. Mr. Brady isn’t interested in your idle threats.”

  I didn’t even turn to look at him. I still watched Brady. “I’m not lying, Brady,” I said. “I can prove it.”

  “He was just telling me to give you every consideration possible, but under the present circumstances, even crawling on your hands and knees wouldn’t help,” Chris continued.

  For the first time since I came into the office I looked at him. This was one place his arithmetic wasn’t going to do him any good. “I learned a lot of things from you, Chris,” I said coldly. “But not crawling. That’s your specialty.”

  Chris looked over at Brady. “Shall I call the guards, sir?” he asked.

  Brady was still staring at me. He spoke as if he hadn’t heard. “I tried to do everything I could for her, saw that she had everything she needed. A home. Money.”

  Suddenly I saw him as a tired old man robbed of his only child. I thought of my Jeanie, and a strange sympathy for him came into me. “People are not like a business, Brady,” I said softly. “You can’t buy and sell them like so much property. You can’t lock them up in a vault and expect them to appreciate it.”

  I could see his fingers white on his desk. There seemed to be no blood in his hands. “I asked how you knew, Mr. Rowan?”

  “She came to my office last night and begged me to find her a place where she could be free of you,” I answered.

  His words came very slowly. “Does she know about the relationship?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “You didn’t tell her?”

  I didn’t mention that I hadn’t found out until after she had gone. “It wasn’t my place, Mr. Brady. You’re her father; I’m only her friend.”

  He stared down at his hands for a long time. At last he looked up. “Proctor, go back to your office,” he said. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  Sheer hatred glared out of Chris’s eyes towards me at his summary dismissal. I smiled at him pleasantly. It only seemed to make him more infuriated as he stalked out. I turned back to Brady.

  “Sit down, Mr. Rowan,” he said wearily.

  I took the chair that Chris had vacated. Brady’s gaze went past me to Bob. There was no recognition in the look. “My associate, Mr. Robert M. Levi,” I said.

  Brady nodded, still with no recognition.

  “You may remember him,” I added. “He was the young attorney who prepared the anti-trust case against your company.”

  A subtle change came into Matt Brady’s face; it seemed almost contemptuous. “I remember now,” he said, turning to me. “We paid him twenty-five thousand dollars to leave the government.”

  I looked up at Bob. “That’s not the way I heard it,” I said.

  There was a flush on his face. “I never took a cent, Brad,” he said angrily.

  I turned back to Brady. “I believe him, Brady.”

  “I personally reimbursed the private detective I hired to check on him when he told me that was the only way we could get him to leave,” Brady snapped.

  “Then you’ve been had, Brady,” I answered. “Bob left the government at your insistence but not for that reason. It was to protect his wife from your threats. He was offered money but never took any part of it.”

  He looked at Bob. Bob nodded. “That was the only reason that could make me quit. I didn’t want any part of your money.”

  Brady closed his eyes wearily. “I don’t know what to believe.” He looked up at Bob. “But if I’m wrong, I’m sorry.”

  Brady turned back to me. “How did you find out about Sand—er—my daughter, Mr. Rowan? I thought it was pretty well hidden by now.”

  I nodded at Bob. “I was pretty desperate, Mr. Brady,” I answered. “I went to Bob and asked his help. It was he who actually found out. The stock transfer you made to her the day after she was born was what gave it away. He came across it while working on the case.”

  “I see,” he nodded. “You are like me, Mr. Rowan. I believe I said that once before. You’re a fighter.”

  I didn’t answer.

  He folded his hands on his desk. “I suppose I should have told Nora a long time ago,” he said almost to himself. “But I couldn’t. I was afraid it would kill her. She’s an invalid and very proud. If she felt that she hadn’t given me all that I wanted she would die.”

  He spun his chair around and looked out the large window at the smoking foundries behind him. “I couldn’t tell Nora and I couldn’t let my daughter leave me. I had to find a way to see her every day.” There was a faint bitterness in his voice. “I’m an old man now. The doctor says I should have quit a long time ago. But I couldn’t.” He spun his chair back and looked at me. “The only reason I still come in to work is to see her. Even if it’s only for a few minutes each day.

  “Why once when she left me and took a job somewhere else, I found out she wasn’t making enough to live on. I made her come back. I didn’t want her to have to struggle.” His voice trailed away. For a few moments he was silent, then he looked up at me again. “But it seems everything I did was wrong,” he added.

  Bob and I looked at each other and remained silent. The minutes ticked slowly away while the old man sat at his desk and looked at his hands. I took out a cigarette and lit it.

  “You’ve managed to get yourself pretty well involved with my family, Mr. Rowan,” Brady said suddenly.

  I knew what he meant. “Mrs. Schuyler is a very good friend,” I said. “I’m trying to help her on the Infantile drive.”

  “You’ve been seeing quite a bit of her, according to the papers,” he said.

  I smiled. “You know the papers. They’re always looking for something to print.”

  “I thought you might be playing up to her because of me,” he said flatly.

  “I happened to be very fond of Elaine, long before I knew either you o
r that she was related to you. She’s a brave, wonderful person and she’s had more than enough trouble. I’m very proud that she likes me.”

  He looked into my eyes. “I know she thinks a great deal of you.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “That doesn’t settle the matter you came to see me on,” he said.

  “It doesn’t,” I agreed.

  “If I didn’t agree to work with you,” he guessed shrewdly, “you planned to bring out that business with my daughter into the open, didn’t you?”

  “It was something like that,” I admitted.

  “And if I still refuse?” he asked.

  I thought for a long moment, then I answered. “Many years ago my father told me I could choose between a hell now or a hell hereafter. I didn’t know what he meant then but I’m beginning to learn. I’d rather my hell came hereafter.”

  “Then you’re not going to say anything?” he asked, his eyes on my face.

  I shook my head. “That’s not my affair. It’s your own private hell. I want no part of it.”

  A slight sigh escaped his lips. “I’m glad you said that. If you had threatened me, I would have had to fight you no matter what happened.”

  I got to my feet. “That’s the way I felt about you the last time I was down here.” I started for the door. “Come on, Bob,” I said.

  “Wait a minute, Mr. Rowan.”

  I turned back towards the desk. “Yes?”

  The little man was on his feet, his usually reserved face was warm with a smile. “How are we going to be able to work out the details of the account if you leave?”

  I could feel my heart pumping with excitement. I made it—I made it. The long shot had paid off. I didn’t speak.

  He came around the desk towards me. I took his outstretched hand. He opened the door. “Sandra, please come in here.”

  She came into the room, a questioning look in her face. “Yes, Mr. Brady?”

  “Mr. Rowan’s firm is undertaking the public relations campaign for us. I thought it might be a good idea if you went to New York to keep an eye on it for me.” There was a strange pleading in his eyes as he looked at her.

  She looked at him for a moment, then glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. Almost imperceptibly I shook my head. “Later,” I made silently with my lips, from behind him.

  She had enough of her father in her to catch on quickly. She smiled at the old man. “If it’s all right with you, Mr. Brady,” she said quickly. “I’d rather stay here with you for a while.”

  The old man couldn’t hide his pleasure. The radiant smile on his face was bright enough to light up the whole room.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  IT was one of those garden apartments that dot the fashionable sections just off the outskirts of Washington. The hall light was out, so I struck a match while I checked the bell.

  Schuyler. I punched the button. Somewhere deep in the house I could hear a chime tinkling. The match flared out and I waited in the darkness. After a few minutes I hit the button again. But there was no answer. The house still remained dark.

  I went back out of the hall and sat down on the steps. It was sheer madness, and I knew it. Even if she had called me from home as Mickey had told me, there was no reason for her to be there now. For all I knew she could have gone off someplace for the week-end. After all, it was Friday night.

  I lit a cigarette. Maybe I was off on a wrong kick altogether. Could be I wasn’t so sharp after all. Maybe she was conning me all the time. Maybe there was another guy—even other guys. I didn’t know. All I knew was what she told me. And there was nothing in the book that said she couldn’t lie to me if she wanted to.

  The cigarette turned bitter in my mouth and I threw it away. Its sparks scattered on the cement walk in front of me like a hundred little fireflies. The night was turning chill and I pushed my coat collar up around my neck. There was nothing else I could do. I was ready to sit there until Doomsday if I had to.

  It had been like that back at the airport in Pittsburgh when I tried to call her and there had been no answer. Even then I knew I would have to see her. There was no other way out for me. So I bought me a plane ticket to Washington and called home instead.

  I tried to keep my voice light while I spoke to Marge. “Baby,” I lied. “Brady says I got the deal, but I gotta see the institute president in Washington to-night.”

  “Can’t it keep until Monday?” she asked. “I’ve such a terrible feeling about this week-end.” I could almost see her knit her brows together the way she did when she felt low.

  “It can’t, honey,” I said quickly, compounding the felony. “You know the job is the last hope we had. Until Brady said okay we were dead. I can’t afford to let anything go wrong now.”

  I had the strangest feeling she didn’t believe me. I could hear her breath hit the phone. “Okay, Brad,” she said hesitantly. “If you have to——”

  “Of course, I have to,” I jumped in. “If I didn’t I wouldn’t go. You know that.”

  Her voice was very small. “I don’t know anything any more, Brad,” she said and rang off.

  I put the phone back on the hook and walked thoughtfully out on the field. The Washington plane was just coming in and it got me there a little after nine o’clock. It was almost ten when I first rang her bell.…

  From somewhere behind the apartment came the sound of an automobile motor, then a garage door closed. For a few seconds there was silence, then the sounds of high heels against a cement walk came from around the corner of the building.

  I scrambled to my feet and faced the sound. My legs were trembling suddenly. She came around the corner, but she didn’t see me.

  The moon was full on her face and there was a beautiful, sad loneliness etched into it that my heart was strangely glad to see. “Elaine!” I whispered.

  She stopped, her hand clutched at her throat. “Brad!” she breathed, and a sudden joy appeared on her face and as quickly disappeared.

  She came towards me. Her voice was low and taut. “Brad, why did you come? We both know it’s over.”

  “I had to see you,” I said. “You couldn’t walk out on me just like that.”

  She stopped a few feet away from me, her eyes fixed on my face. “Haven’t you done enough?” she cried. “Made me cheap and common like all the others? Can’t you leave well enough alone?”

  “That girl means nothing to me,” I said. “She was just being grateful because I promised to help her.”

  She didn’t speak, just stared at me with dark, pain-filled eyes. There was something in their depths that told me she wanted to believe me.

  I reached a hand towards her but she stepped back. "Tell me that you don’t love me,” I said. “And I’ll go.”

  “Go away,” she whispered in a tight, bitter voice. “Leave me alone!”

  “I can’t,” I said. “You mean everything to me. I can’t let you go like this. Only if you tell me you don’t love me.”

  She looked down at the ground. “I don’t love you,” she said in a small voice.

  "It seems like only a few days ago you said you loved me,” I said. “You looked up into my eyes and said you loved me with all your heart. You said that nobody ever made you feel so loved and loving.

  “Look at me now and tell me that you lied. Tell me that you don’t love me to-day; tell me that you can turn love on and off like you can water in a faucet. Then I’ll believe you.”

  Slowly her face turned up to mine. I could see her lips trembling. “I—I——” She couldn’t speak.

  I held my arms towards her and she came into them quickly. Her face was against my coat and she was crying, hard bitter sobs that shook her whole body. I could hardly make out what she was saying. “For a moment … back there in the office … that girl was me … and I was your wife … suddenly I was so ashamed. It was so wrong … so very wrong.”

  I held her very tight and close to me. Her hair brushed my lips as I whispered to her. I could feel m
y tears running down my cheeks into her hair. “Please, Elaine,” I begged. “Please don’t cry.”

  Her lips were pressing wildly against mine. “Brad, Brad, I love you so!” she cried, her kisses salty in my mouth. “Don’t let me run away from you again! Never leave me!”

  “That’s it, darling,” I said, suddenly content. I closed my eyes against her kiss. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  IT was a week-end to throw away the clock. Time meant nothing. It was the honeymoon that never happened, the dream that never was true. We were together like no two people ever were: we ate when we thought of it, slept when we were exhausted.

  We drew a curtain about our lives and the only real things in it were the way we felt about each other. We laughed at all the silly normal things of life; shaving, bathing, dressing, coffee bubbling over the pot, toast burning. It was a private world, created by ourselves for our own delight.

  But like all things that man had made, it came to an end. Maybe a little sooner than we had planned, but the time was coming close anyway and we both knew it, even if we didn’t talk about it. And then, when we had started to talk about it, the telephone rang and the week-end burst like a bubble in our faces.

  I was stretched on the floor in front of the open fireplace. The heat of the flames was licking out at me and I stretched lazily. She had just come out of the shower and was walking around me. I never saw such a dame for showers. She was shower-happy. Could take one every minute.

  The flame cast a reddish gold glow on her legs where they stuck out beneath the towel. I rolled over and made a grab for her and she tumbled down beside me, laughing. I laughed with her, pulling the towel away. She fought to hold it close but not too hard.

  Her eyes were sombre as they looked at me. I kissed her tiny nose. She smiled a moment and then her eyes were sombre again. Her voice held its first trace of pain in two days. “Brad, what’s going to happen to us?”

  It was a reasonable question, but it stopped me cold. She had a right to an answer. It was only that I had never really faced up to it. “I don’t know,” I said.