Never Leave Me (1953)

by Robbins, Harold

  At last he smiled at us, a slightly weak version of his old grin. His hand moved on the sheet, pointing to the iron lung. “Man!” he said faintly, but with all his usual spirit. “Dig that crazy wind tunnel!”

  I went right to the office from the airport. Dad was taking Marge and Junior directly home. It was a little before nine o’clock and the office was empty. I grinned to myself. There was a lot I had to catch up on. I closed the door to my office and began to go through the papers on my desk.

  Bob Levi was going to be all right. He had stepped right in when I was gone. When the word went out that I was okay all my old customers wanted back in. He had taken them back, but at increased rates. I guess he felt they should pay for their crimes.

  It was almost ten o’clock when I looked up. Where the devil was everybody? I punched down the switch on the intercom.

  “Brad, is that you?” Mickey’s voice was startled.

  “It ain’t a ghost!” I roared in my best Simon Legree manner.

  Then everyone from the office boy up piled into my office and shook my hand. They were all happy for me. I felt good. Everything was going fine.

  When they had left, Bob lingered behind. “We have a twelve-thirty luncheon meeting with the Steel Institute committee,” he said.

  “Okay,” I answered.

  “And their attorneys promised to have the contract on your desk right after lunch,” he added.

  I looked up at him. “I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I said.

  He smiled down at me. “I feel the same way about you,” he said. “Funny, isn’t it?”

  “But good,” I laughed.

  He went back into his office and the morning worked on. Shortly before lunch, Mickey came into my office carrying a package.

  “The furrier sent this over to you.” She placed it on my desk.

  I looked at it. For a moment I didn’t remember. Then it came back. To-morrow was our anniversary. It was hard to believe that almost a month had gone since that morning I drove Jeanie down to school and she had put a bee in my bonnet. So much had happened.

  “Have it put in the car,” I said to her.

  She turned and took it out of the office with her. I watched the door close behind her. I had ordered it the morning I first met Elaine.

  Elaine! My fingers froze on the desk. I had promised to call but never got the chance. A thousand years had passed since I spoke to her last. I picked up the phone and dialled long distance.

  I was just about to give the operator her number when Bob stuck his head in the door.

  “Better hurry,” he said. “You don’t want to be late for your first official meeting with them.”

  Reluctantly I put down the phone and got up, I would call her right after lunch. I picked up my hat and coat and walked to the door.

  I didn’t know it then, but she had already been dead more than twelve hours.

  THE BEGINNING AS THE END

  MY head ached and my eyes were burning with unshed tears. I don’t know how long I sat there staring out the windows but I found no answer.

  The buzzer hawked. Wearily I walked over to my desk and picked up the phone. “Yes, Mickey.”

  “Sandra Wallace is here to see you.”

  I hesitated a moment. The clock on my desk said almost six. Then I made up my mind. “Send her in,” I said.

  I stood there as the door opened and Sandra came in. She was strong and blonde and vital. The basic forces of life were powerful in her. There was nothing in this world that could destroy her. I was sure of that. She was so different from Elaine.

  Her blue eyes looked at me. “Hello, Brad,” she said softly, standing just inside the door.

  “Sandy,” I said gently. “Come on in.”

  She came slowly into the room. “How are you?”

  “Okay,” I said wearily.

  “I’m glad your kid’s better,” she said.

  “Thanks,” I said. I wondered vaguely where she had learned about it. “What brings you to town?”

  “I have a message for you,” she said.

  “From Mr. Brady?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  I looked at her questioningly.

  “From Mrs. Schuyler,” she said.

  For a moment the words didn’t penetrate, then they burst in my brain. “From Mrs. Schuyler?” I said stupidly. “But she’s—she’s——”

  “I know,” Sandy said quietly. “I heard about it this morning. Mr. Brady was very upset.”

  “How did you get a message from her?” I asked. “Did you see her?”

  She shook her head again. “No. It came this morning in the mail.” She opened her pocketbook and took out an envelope. She held it towards me.

  I took it from her and looked at it. The envelope was open. I looked up at her.

  “The first one is mine,” she said quickly. “There’s another one inside. That’s yours.”

  I lifted the flap. The faint familiar scent of Elaine’s perfume came to my nostrils. I closed my eyes. I could see her standing there before me. I pulled out the inside envelope. It was sealed. I slit the flap. I looked at Sandy. She was still standing.

  “I’ll wait outside,” she said quickly.

  I shook my head. “Stay here,” I said.

  She went over to the couch and sat down. I sank into my chair and began to read Elaine’s letter. Her hand was neat and orderly, it betrayed no excitement. Apparently her mind had already been made up when she sat down to write it. It was dated two days ago.

  “MY DEAREST BRAD,

  Ever since I left you at the plane I have been thinking and praying for you constantly. My one great hope is that your son is well. That is the most important thing in the whole world.

  It was in thinking of him I realized how small and foolish we had been, how selfish both of us really were. We, who were ready to sacrifice all our worlds for the sake of a moment’s passion.

  For in truth, that was all we could ever have for each other. I realized that too. My life had already gone and I was trying to borrow some of yours.

  I think I may have mentioned that you reminded me of David, that you had the same qualities and the same regard and love for your family that he had for us.

  That was what first drew me to you, but I didn’t know it then. You were the same kind of people.

  In my loneliness while you were gone I found my way to the cemetery where David and the children rest. I sat there on the bench and looked at the monument that already bears my name. It is a place at his side, the place at his side I always held in his life. It was then it came to me that if I were to be with you, I could never be with him and the children. We could never be together again; we who meant so much to each other!

  That is how I found that I did not love you less, but that I loved David and my children more.

  So please do not think that I have betrayed your love. I cherished it more than I could ever tell. Please think kindly of me and pray for me.

  Love

  ELAINE”

  My eyes still burned from all the tears that day but I felt better now. There was a weight off my soul. I got to my feet. “You’re very kind to bring this to me, Sandy,” I said huskily.

  She rose to her feet. “I had to bring it,” she said. “I knew that you loved her.”

  I took a deep breath. “I loved her,” I said. I just never knew how much pain she lived with, how hurt she had been. All I could remember now were her eyes, so smoky blue, almost violet with the pain swirling in their depths.

  She was at the door. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “I promised Aunt Nora I would be home by twelve.”

  “Aunt Nora?” I asked, surprise creeping into my voice.

  She nodded. “Mr. Brady took me home to meet her. He said he wants me to feel that I’m her daughter. I’m staying with them for a little while.” A curious smile crossed her lips. “I wonder what you said to him that day. He’s been a completely different person s
ince. I’m even beginning to like him. He’s actually a very gentle man when you get to know him.”

  “I’m glad, Sandy,” I said, walking over to the door and looking down at her. “You’ll be good for both of them now.”

  “I hope so.” She smiled, holding her cheek up to me to be kissed like a little girl.

  I kissed her. “Bye, Sandy.”

  The door closed behind her and I went over to the window and opened it. I stood there quietly and tore Elaine’s letter into tiny little shreds and let them flutter out the window.

  It was an end, but it also was a beginning. A new life and understanding for me. I was no different from many other guys who forgot that fall was the season of maturity and reached back desperately for the fires of spring. I knew better now. You can’t turn back the clock. There was a lot of living to be done with Marge and the kids. Good living. Now I knew what Elaine had meant. A place at their side. I took a deep breath. The cold air went far into my lungs and felt good there. Suddenly I was anxious to be home.…

  The first snow of the season began to fall as I drove home. It had just dusted the ground lightly by the time I turned into the driveway. I pulled up in front of the garage and sat in the car, looking up at my house.

  The lights were on in every window, even Brad’s room, and a warm glow came from them. Dad’s hack was parked in front of the door.

  I got out of the car and opened the garage door. The hinges squeaked noisily, as usual. I got back into the car and drove it into the garage.

  I heard Jeanie’s voice calling me. “Dad! Dad!”

  I got out of the car and she ran into my arms. I kissed her lightly. “How’s my girl?” I asked.

  “Great!” she answered excitedly, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I hope you didn’t forget Mother’s present, because she’s got the most beautiful wrist-watch for you!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh gosh! I went and told you. And I promised I wouldn’t!”

  I smiled at her. She had probably told Marge about my gift. She couldn’t keep a secret, never could. “That’s all right, honey,” I said gently. “I won’t let on.”

  I reached across the seat and picked up the box with the furrier’s seal and stuck it under my arm. Then, hand in hand, our heels scuffing the snow on the cement walk beneath our feet, we went up to the house.

  THE END

  About the Author

  In A Stone For Danny Fisher, Harold Robbins wrote of an ugly section of New York where switchblade knives and bare fists were the passport to the world of wealth and position. In Never Leave Me Mr. Robbins shows that the oak-panelled offices of big business, and the expense-account frolics of Madison Avenue hucksters, are not too far removed from the jungle of Danny Fisher’s world. He shows that life in New York’s hard-boiled upper income brackets is just as vicious, cruel and deadly as life on the streets of the lower east side. The smooth words, expensive clothes and plush backgrounds only serve to mask the same frantic drive for material success, and the motto is “I’ve got mine, the hell with everyone else”.

  Never Leave Me is the memorable story of one man from this world and how he almost tore his life to pieces in a frenzy of passion and hunger for power.

  HAROLD ROBBINS

  has also written

  NEVER LOVE A STRANGER

  THE DREAM MERCHANTS

  A STONE FOR DANNY FISHER

  79 PARK AVENUE

  THE CARPETBAGGERS

  Copyright

  © Harold Robbins 1962

  First published in Great Britain 1962

  This edition 2013

  ISBN 978 0 7198 1019 0 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 1020 6 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 1021 3 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7091 2766 6 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of Harold Robbins to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988