Web of Dreams

by V. C. Andrews

  "Neither will I!" William exclaimed.

  Momma had Tony direct everyone to the theater. I squeezed Joshua's hand and indicated that he and I should remain behind to take seats in the rear.

  "Once the movie's underway," I whispered, "we'll sneak out so I can show you the maze and the cottage. Unless you want to stay."

  "Oh no. I want to go with you."

  "Good."

  The private little theater was designed just like a regular movie theater with soft cushion seats and a big screen. There were two big doors in the back. Momma even had the maids go up and down the aisle with bags of popcorn. Joshua and I sat in the last row on the aisle. Jennifer and William sat with us. I had already told her of my intention to sneak out with Joshua for a while.

  The lights came down and the picture started. We waited a good fifteen minutes into the movie before I poked Joshua and the two of us snuck out. I didn't see Tony anywhere, but I could hear Momma down the long corridor, laughing in the music room. She was speaking to someone on the telephone. I led Joshua to a side entrance and we burst out into the daylight and hurried across the grounds toward the maze.

  "What is that?"

  "An English maze. It's very easy to get lost in there, but don't worry, I know my way through it. Now it's fun for me."

  He held back, his eyes full of wonder as we entered. "Are you sure you know how to get out once we go deep in?" Joshua asked skeptically. I laughed.

  "I'm sure. Don't worry. Besides, would it be so terrible for you to get lost with me?" I teased.

  "Oh no, I. . ."

  I laughed and went forward. He held tightly to my hand as I took us through the corridors and around corners, moving to the right here and to the left there swiftly and assuredly until we came out on the other side and faced the cottage.

  "Doesn't it look like a little storybook cottage?" I asked, stopping to breathe it all in: the beautiful warm day, the pretty little fence and lush green lawn and the cottage itself, straight off the pages of a book filled with nursery stories. "It's so special."

  "Yes, it is," Joshua said softly, his eyes full of excitement.

  "Come on." I took his hand again and led him down to the front gate. As we drew closer, I was surprised to see that the windows still had their shades drawn.

  "We'll go inside for a moment and then we'll go back before anyone misses us. After I had first seen it," I explained, "I used to dream of living in it with the man I love. At least, for weekends. We would come here to escape from the world and have only ourselves." I glanced at Joshua to see if he felt anything like I did. He had his eyes fixed on the cottage, but then he looked at me and smiled warmly.

  We went up the short walkway to the front door. When I stepped in, I was surprised to find that Tony hadn't removed any of his art materials and supplies. The room was still set up like an artist's studio. But it had been so long since we had completed the work here, I thought. Why didn't he take everything out?

  "Oh," I said in disappointment, "I thought it would have been turned back to the way it was."

  Joshua came in slowly behind me. I went directly to an easel. There was a canvas on it, a painting of me lying naked on the couch. I didn't look at it long because I was embarrassed about it, but I realized there was something different about this painting. I didn't recognize it as one of the paintings Tony had done while I modeled here, and my mother, who had invaded Tony's images of my body, also pervaded the face in the painting. It was truly a mixture of the two of us.

  "Wait," I said as Joshua started to approach. "I don't want you to see this."

  "What? Why? What is it?"

  "It's something . . . personal," I replied and quickly covered the painting with the white sheet. "I'm sorry."

  "It's all right," he said quickly, even though his eyes were wide with confusion.

  I looked about quickly to be sure there was no other evidence of what had gone on here. I saw some canvases in a carton on the right, but they were stacked so that no one could see what any of them were. Breathing relief, I sat on the couch.

  "So this was an art studio," Joshua said looking around. "And Tony Tatterton created the portrait doll himself?"

  "Yes. He painted and sculpted it here."

  "What a talented man." Joshua sat beside me. "I can see how this could be a very cozy little place," he said nodding. "A hideaway."

  "I used to love to come here. I still do. I just wish Tony had taken all this out and restored it to what it was. I don't understand why he hasn't."

  "Maybe he wants to do more work here," Joshua suggested. The idea had never occurred to me. Perhaps he would talk my mother into coming here to pose or perhaps he would do another girl my age.

  "Maybe. But I wanted you to see it the way it was . . . my make-believe home."

  "It can still be that," Joshua said softly. "You can make believe anything is anything."

  "Can we pretend to be two people desperately in love who live here on weekends?" I asked him.

  "We don't have to pretend," he replied, the desire behind his hazel-green eyes rising to the surface. We had kissed only half a dozen times, and always quickly to say good night or goodbye. But our lips never lingered long on each other's and we never held each other very closely so we could kiss each other more than once. Joshua leaned a little closer and so did I. Then our lips touched and he brought his hands to my shoulders, drawing me to him. I held him at his waist.

  "Happy birthday, Leigh," he whispered.

  He kissed me again, longer this time. A moan escaped my lips and my body tingled right down to the tips of my fingers and toes. I thought about Jennifer's descriptions of her moments of love with William, how he kissed her and touched her. It was different when someone likes you very much and you like him and you let him touch you, I thought, thinking about Tony touching me in this very room. It had to be different and do different and more wonderful things to you

  Joshua backed away, unsure about kissing me so long and hard. I could read the indecision and the hesitation in his eyes. He was so sweet and so shy, but beneath that shyness a passion slept. I could sense it in the way his lips trembled against mine and in the way his fingers slipped across my shoulder until they touched my neck.

  "I like you, Leigh. I like you more than any girl I ever met."

  "I like you too, Joshua."

  He started toward me and I closed my eyes. As he kissed me, his fingers drifted down the side of my arm. I tingled in anticipation. He was so close to touching my breast. When he started to draw back again, I realized he wouldn't. He was too unsure of himself, but I had to know the feeling, had to know if it would be different.

  I twisted my shoulders and nudged his hand with my upper arm, directing him. For a moment he looked confused and then he brought his fingers to my bosom and pressed them around my breast, his palm just caressing the tops. It did feel different because I wanted it. The tingling grew stronger, traveling with electric speed down to the small of my stomach where Tony's fingers had lingered so long and had traced the lines of my thighs until he touched me and touched me. Right on this very spot! I thought. I couldn't stop thinking about that, no matter how much I wanted to think about Joshua. It invaded my mind, ruining my moments of love. I groaned in disappointment.

  Joshua thought I was disappointed in him and pulled his hand away quickly.

  "No," I said taking his wrist. "I'm not mad at you."

  "Leigh," he whispered. I saw such desire in his eyes, a deep, intense look that made me want to hold him and kiss him. I brought his hand back to my bosom, but just as I did, the door of the cottage flew open. We both jumped.

  It was Tony!

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he screamed. "AND ON THAT COUCH!" he added as if it were some special piece of furniture. "WHY DID YOU BRING HIM HERE? WHY AREN'T YOU WITH YOUR GUESTS WATCHING THE MOVIE!"

  Joshua stood up quickly.

  "I just took a walk with Joshua through the maze," I said quickly, "and decided to show him the co
ttage."

  Tony looked from him to me.

  "And what were you showing him on that couch?" he demanded, his eyes tiny slits of anger. He looked wild.

  "Nothing," I said, my heart pounding. He stared at me a moment and then relaxed his posture.

  "It's not right for you to have left your own party," he said more calmly, but still breathing hard. "No one knows you have, not even your mother, but I advise you to go back immediately," he added, looking pointedly at Joshua.

  "Yes sir," Joshua said. He looked terrified. He turned to me and I started around the couch. Tony stepped back as we headed through the doorway.

  "Leigh," he said seizing my arm to hold me back. I looked up at him. "I won't tell your mother about this, but I want to talk to you about it later."

  "Yes, Tony," I said and hurried to join Joshua. Without speaking, we walked quickly to the maze.

  "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble," Joshua said.

  "Don't worry. It's nothing. He's just being . . . trying to be a father to me," I explained. "He feels he has to."

  Joshua just nodded, but he was very shaken. We hurried through the maze and back into Farthy through the side entrance. Then we slipped back into the movie theater. Jennifer and William were kissing in the dark. They broke to look at us when we sat down.

  "Have a good time, Romeo?" William asked Joshua. He said nothing. He slid down in his seat until the movie ended and the lights came on.

  After the movie my guests began to leave. Their cars arrived, some chauffeur driven. I stood at the doorway thanking them for attending and for their gifts. Joshua and William and Jennifer were the last to leave.

  "I hope everything will be all right with your stepfather," Joshua whispered.

  "Don't worry. try to call you later," I promised.

  Jennifer and I hugged and then they were all gone. Even with all the servants moving about, cleaning up Farthy, folding up chairs and tables, there was a deep emptiness in the great house. Troy's nurse had convinced him to take a nap; my mother was up in her room resting from what she called "the ordeal," and as far as I could tell, Tony had not yet returned from the cottage. I wondered what he did there now and thought about that painting I had discovered and concealed on the easel. Why was he still doing these pictures? Was he planning a different doll?

  "Excuse me, Miss," Curtis said approaching, "but deliverymen brought this a little over an hour ago." He handed me a package. It was my birthday gift from Daddy and Mildred.

  "Thank you, Curtis," I said. I decided to take it up to my room before opening it.

  Once there, I sat down on the settee in the sitting room and unwrapped the box. I took out a ceramic, hand-painted ballet dancer. It was a music box, After I wound it up and placed it on the table, the dancer moved to some of The Nutcracker Suite.

  Daddy's birthday card read: "Mildred and I found something beautiful for a beautiful young lady. Happy Birthday."

  I sat back and watched the dancing doll, while I recalled other birthday presents and other birthdays, especially the last one when Daddy had given me this diary. I had been so happy then, so unaware of the storm of unhappiness and sadness that would burst upon us and rain torrents and torrents of tears.

  Suddenly, my reverie was interrupted by Tony's presence in the doorway to my sitting room. I had the impression he had been standing there a while, staring in at me.

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "A present from my father," I replied, staring at him. He looked different. Strands of his usually neatly brushed hair were wild. His face was flushed, his jacket open and baggy, his tie loose. It was as if he had run back from the cottage.

  "It's very nice. Imported?" he asked coming farther in. "I guess so." He took it into his hands and turned it upside down.

  "Yes, it's made in Holland. I saw many like it during my travels." He put it down again. "Your mother really throws a great party, huh?" he said smiling. I saw he was trying to be friendly, make small talk, but I was still angry about the way he had burst in upon Joshua and me.

  "Yes," I said. I put the music box back into the package and stood up. "Well, good night. I'm going to put this in my bedroom," I explained and went in, expecting he would leave; but he followed me.

  "Leigh, I'm sorry I frightened you at the cottage, but I saw you two going into the maze and followed, naturally curious as to why you would leave all your guests:'

  "I just wanted to show Joshua some of the grounds," I replied, keeping my back to him.

  "That's understandable, but you should have waited until you could have taken other guests, too."

  "I didn't want to take any other guests to the cottage," I said turning.

  "Leigh, I'm not your real father, I know," Tony pursued, stepping closer, "but you're a young girl, just blossoming. You've been somewhat protected up until now, and young men with far more experience can take advantage of a girl like you. Believe me, I know about these things."

  "Joshua's not like that," I snapped.

  "Maybe, but there's no sense in not being careful and I wouldn't feel right knowing that . . . well,. I wouldn't feel right not giving you some advice. Now, as I told you at the cottage, your mother need not hear a thing about this. It's just between you and me."

  He stepped closer until he could reach out and take my shoulders in his hands.

  "I'd like there to be something special between us, to always have something special between us," he said, his eyes feasting on me. His fingers tightened until they actually began to hurt.

  "Tony." I grimaced but he didn't loosen his grip.

  "Actually," he whispered, "your mother wants me to help her with you, expects me to take on this responsibility. She feels overwhelmed being the parent of a young daughter. I don't mind. You're too beautiful and too precious not to care for and protect. Please, let me protect you, let me care for you."

  "I appreciate what you want to do for me, Tony. Thank you," I said. I just wanted to end the

  conversation. His gaze was fervent, and his fingers tightened even more.

  "I mean, I know what goes through a man, especially a young man, when he kisses you and puts his hands on your shoulders like this," he said. His fingers relaxed and moved down my arms. He smiled. "You don't understand what sort of power you possess over a man."

  "Power?" What was he talking about now? Why was he so intense? It had been an incident; it was over. Why dwell on it so long and so passionately?

  "Yes, power. You have it already, the same sort of power your mother has. Your beauty and her beauty are mesmerizing. Any man who looks at either of you feels himself weaken, feels all his resolve dissipate like smoke. But he wants to be a" "Slave to your beauty. It fulfills him to be twisted and turned, squeezed and caressed. He lives for that," he said, his voice so low, I practically had to read his lips. "Can you understand? Do you understand?"

  "No," I said shaking my head. I tried to step back, but he held my upper arms too tightly.

  "When a man is as close to you as that boy was in the cottage, and you let him touch you," he said, the fingers of his left hand lifting from my arm and settling over my breast, "it turns his heart into a small furnace, sending heat pulsating throughout his body. Soon, he can't control himself. It's not his fault. He becomes a puppet and you become the puppeteer," he said, his fingers still caressing my breast.

  He held me so firmly with his right hand, I couldn't move. The small veins in his forehead lifted against the skin. He was touching me just as Joshua had touched me.

  How long had he been watching Joshua and me before he had decided to interrupt? He had seen us go into the maze, so he had followed us, I thought. Why hadn't he yelled to us when he first saw us, if he thought it was so wrong for us to have left the other guests?

  "You must understand your powers, Leigh, so you don't misuse them." He brought his fingers to my collarbone. "I saw how that boy kissed you and you kissed him. You can't expect it to end with that. It's as if you were lighting a match in a pile
of hay, thinking you would have just a tiny little flame for a while and then put it out.

  "But once it's begun, it spreads too quickly, it breaks free, runs on its own and consumes you as well as the hay. I want to show you, warn you, teach you," he said. "You must never be afraid of me. You must trust me and permit me to help you. Will you, Leigh? Will you?" he demanded.

  I didn't know what to say. Show me? Warn me? Teach me? What did all that mean?

  "I already told you, Tony. I appreciate your concern for me."

  "Yes," he said. "My concern. Yes." He drew me into his strong arms and kissed the top of my head. "My beautiful portrait doll, my special work of art."

  He held me long and tightly. Finally, his arms relaxed and I backed away. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled.

  "We're friends again, then?" he asked.

  "Yes, Tony. We're friends."

  "Good. Nothing would sadden me more than losing your friendship and affection now, especially after we have been so successful together," he said and gazed at Angel. "Look at her, at the way she looks at us. I've captured a piece of your beauty in her face, painted a note of your exquisite melody, and whenever I look at her, I can hear that tune. It's my greatest artistic achievement. I understand now how an artist can fall in love with his own creations." He turned back to me and I remembered the painting in the cottage.

  "Tony, why are you painting me again? Are you planning another doll?" I asked.

  "Painting you again?"

  "Yes, that painting on the easel, the one I covered with the sheet."

  "That's not a new painting, Leigh."

  But I was positive it was. I had seen all the paintings and in none of them were Momma's features so clearly included.

  "Why is the cottage still set up like an artist's studio?"

  "I just haven't gotten around to restoring it. Actually, I sort of like going back there from time to time and reliving the moments we spent together creating this wonderful work of art. The cottage has become a very special place for me now." His face hardened, his lips tightening, his eyes growing smaller. "That's why I was so disappointed you took a stranger there today."