“Oh God, Tommy, how did all this get so tangled up?” She stopped walking and looked up at him. “How do I untangle things? How do I make them right?”
“What makes you think you’re God?”
The words, softly spoken, still sounded harsh to her. “What?”
“You want to fix things you said, to make them right. But you can’t. You’re not supposed to. That’s not your job.”
She laughed disparagingly, a note of helplessness creeping in. “Just what is my job?”
He took her into his arms, heedless of anyone who might look out their window and see. “To just be Johanna. Not Harold’s wife, not Jocelyn’s mother, not anyone’s daughter. Just Johanna.” He kissed her forehead softly. “And that’s more than enough.”
She closed her eyes. It felt good just to be held for a few moments.
“He wants to see you, Johanna,” Sid Montaigne said to her the moment that he spotted her in the crowd of people when he deplaned at Heathrow.
No hellos, no small talk. Just a delivered command. She was through with commands.
“He called you?” Of course he would, or have someone do it for him, once he had calmed down and gotten hold of himself. She had no doubts that Harry was ultimately a survivor. However much longer he could manage it.
“Yes, and he was adamant about seeing you when I told him you wanted a divorce.”
Johanna stared at the lawyer. She wore her high heels, and they were eye to eye. “You told him that?”
He shrugged, his expensive wool suit whispering against his shoulders. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because you might have spared him that until you were here. He’s facing a long prison sentence, you know.” Even after all he had done to her, she didn’t want to twist a knife in his back. That was for people who wanted petty revenge. She just wanted to be left alone.
He took her arm and hurried her out of the area. He was carrying the only piece of luggage he would need. His briefcase held a fresh shirt and a change of underwear. He could buy anything else he needed and most likely would.
“If you’re so concerned about his mental state, Johanna, why won’t you see him?”
Sid had guessed her feelings correctly, Johanna thought as she led him back to the cab she had waiting. But then, the rotund little man wasn’t considered a shrewd lawyer because of the way he dressed.
“Because there’s nothing to talk about on that score anymore. Whatever we had between us is gone and no amount of talking or promises from him is going to bring it back. I just want to get on with my life now.”
“That’s pretty low, Johanna, hitting him when he’s down.”
Johanna stopped. She wouldn’t be criticized by someone who hadn’t the vaguest idea what she had been through. “He’s been down for a long time, Sid. He just didn’t know it. The women, the drugs, the megalomania—I’ve had it.” She leveled a gaze at him. She wasn’t about to be bullied into anything either and she knew if she let him, Sid could bulldoze her. He had done it before with other people. “Like I said earlier, if you don’t want to handle this, I’ll find someone who will and maybe they’ll want a piece of your action.”
He was quick to put a hand on her arm. “Now Johanna, don’t be hasty.”
She’d heard this before and knew his language. It started and ended with dollar signs. That didn’t make him any the less competent. In a way, it made things simpler, more upfront. She knew exactly where he stood. He’d do the best job he could, as long as the money was there. Loyalty was something he had only to himself. But he could be bought and his expertise made the buy worthwhile. Harry had always thought so. When Harry could think.
“I thought you’d see it my way. Thank you.” She slipped into the cab she had waiting for them as he held the door open for her. “I’ll have the driver drop you off where they’re holding Harry.”
He climbed in next to her and arranged himself before speaking. “You’re not coming?”
Johanna stared straight ahead as the cab driver pulled away from the curb. “No, I already told you, I won’t see him. Not now, Sid. Not ever. I’m leaving the country tomorrow.”
Sid took the information and digested it. “Are you going home?”
His tone didn’t deceive her. He was still predominantly Harry’s lawyer. His loyalty lay with the purse strings now that the divorce was coming. “No. I’m going to make a new home. You can tell Harry that when you see him. Tell him he’s free to do whatever it is he wants to do with whomever or whatever he wishes. But he’s not dragging me down with him anymore.”
Sid leaned back and chuckled, his belly rolling under the tightly buttoned vest. She hadn’t expected that of him. He rarely laughed. “Want some advice?” he asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
She smiled. “Is it free?”
She was still one of the best damn looking women he had ever seen, Sid thought. But his appetite ran to willing, eager young women with short memories. Not strong women. “This one time.”
“Okay.” She thrust out her chin. “What is it?”
“Don’t change your mind.”
“What?” That surprised her. “I thought you said—“
“That was as Harry’s lawyer. As Sid Montaigne I never understood why you hung around with that hopeless shambles of a man. I thought it was for the money, until you told me you didn’t want it.” He leaned forward. It was still hard to accept. “Tell me, if it wasn’t for the money, why did you stay?”
She looked at him carefully and was grateful to see the prison coming into view just behind him. “You wouldn’t understand, Sid. A man like you just wouldn’t understand.”
The cab stopped. Sid nodded, bobbing his head up and down twice. “Maybe you’re right.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some pound notes. Carefully, he counted it out and handed it to the driver. “Any last words to Harry?” he asked as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“None that could be politely repeated.” Sid nodded and began to walk off, his leather briefcase in his hand. “Oh, wait, Sid,” she called. He stopped, a square little man in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting. “Tell him ‘I told you so.”’
“You’re a hardhearted woman, Johanna.” He chuckled again.
“Thank you. I’m learning. And I had the best teachers.”
With that she turned her head and leaned back in the seat, shutting Sid and Harry out of her mind completely. “124 Camden Road, please driver,” she said softly.
The driver pulled down the meter one more time and guided the cab away from the sidewalk. Sid watched the cab merge into traffic and finally disappear.
Johanna never looked back once.
Chapter Twenty-six
“But why are we leaving?” Jocelyn pouted.
She sat on Tommy’s bed, watching Johanna pack away things into an army of suitcases arranged in a circle around her, their lids opened wide like the beaks of hungry, eager baby birds waiting to be fed.
Because we’re running for our lives, baby, yours and mine, Johanna thought as she went on packing.
Arlene had been prevailed upon to bring the rest of their things from the hotel’s storage area. The manager had had the suite cleared the moment Johanna had stepped over the threshold. In exchange for bringing her luggage to such a “seedy little area,” to quote Arlene, Johanna had told her that she was definitely divorcing Harry. Arlene couldn’t wait to get back and telephone everyone she knew. Gossip was, after all, gossip and she enjoyed being the first to ferret things out. Johanna didn’t bother telling her that she had already spoken to their lawyer about it.
With Harry in jail and the film on indefinite hold, it looked as if the studio would either scrap the movie entirely or get someone else to finish it, if anyone wanted the major headache of reassembling the scattered pieces of the story. Loyalties, Johanna had learned from Arlene, were divided, but there were very few people left in Harry’s camp. The hangers-on had been the first to
flee, searching for a new rising star to pledge themselves to. And most of the others had families and futures to think of. Harry, it was silently agreed, did not have a future anymore. This had been the death knell. Even if he wasn’t sent to jail, and odds were that he would be, the lid had been blown off the public secret. It was doubtful that his present studio, or any other major studio for that matter, would have much to do with him.
Johanna felt sorrier for him than she ever had before, but she was also just as determined to cut her losses and begin a new life away from Harry and his poisonous influence. It was something she should have done long ago.
“We’re going because we can’t stay here indefinitely and because I’ve got to get you enrolled for school right away. It starts in a few days.”
That obviously wasn’t enough of a reason, especially not the part about school. “But Daddy’s not out yet,” Jocelyn protested, tugging at the bedspread beneath, making it rumpled.
A folded pile of lingerie slipped to the floor. Johanna picked it up without comment. “Daddy might not be out for a long time, honey.”
“Then we can wait.”
“No, baby, we can’t.” Johanna was firm. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I’ve been waiting for ten years and I can’t wait any more.”
Jocelyn gave her a hostile look. “You’re deserting him.”
He deserted me a long time ago, Johanna thought. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but what good would it do to say them? She didn’t want to use Jocelyn as a rope in an emotional tug of war.
“I sent for Daddy’s lawyer and he’s the one who can do something—if anything.” Johanna stopped packing and sat down next to Jocelyn. She put her arm around the thin shoulders. “You’re going to have to face it, Jocey, daddy might have to go to prison.”
“But why?”
She looked so hurt, so innocent, Johanna thought, aching for her. “Because he did something wrong.”
“He wasn’t hurting anyone.” Jocelyn’s eyes flashed angrily.
“He hurt a lot of people.”
“You?” she accused spitefully.
Johanna knew the hostility was born of her own hurt. She let it go. “Me,” she agreed with a sigh, “but a lot of people who were depending on him for their livelihood, for their families’ livelihoods. That movie your daddy was working on put a lot of people to work, people who needed jobs. He endangered them every time he took drugs.”
Stubbornly, Jocelyn persisted. “Why?”
“Because when he took them, he couldn’t think clearly, because drugs robbed him of his mind, his ability to get the job done properly. Your dad didn’t think of them, he just thought of himself. And now he’s paying the price for it.”
“That’s not true!” Jocelyn jumped up. There was hot anger in her young eyes. Tears shimmered, but she refused to shed them in front of her mother. She turned and ran from the room.
Johanna closed her eyes. God, this was going to be difficult. She was leaving Harry to save herself and to save Jocelyn, but Jocelyn didn’t want to be saved. She wanted to help. Johanna rubbed the bridge of her nose, wishing the headache would go away.
The bastard didn’t deserve such loyalty, she thought heatedly.
It would do no good to sit here and berate him. She had work to do. And a plane to catch. Johanna rose and began packing again. It seemed incredible how many meaningless things she had accumulated and carted around. Part of her felt like throwing the whole mess down, and walking away. All of this had been bought with Harry’s money and she wanted nothing more to do with him. But she didn’t have the luxury to act so proud. She had Jocelyn to think of. And a new life to forge for herself.
She shivered, frightened. First steps were always frightening. But they had to be taken or else journeys would never be made, she told herself.
Tommy looked in. He saw her moving around the room quickly. He was going to miss her, he thought. More than he’d have thought possible. “How’s it coming?”
Johanna turned, surprised, then smiled. She raised and lowered her shoulders helplessly. “The mechanics are getting done, but I don’t know about Jocey. She wants to stay.”
He walked into the room and placed himself between Johanna and the bureau. “It’s only natural.”
“She sees just the good in Harry.” Johanna sank down on the edge of the bed, a wave of hopelessness overtaking her.
She’d get through this. He had no doubts of that. She was a strong woman. It was one of the things that attracted him to her in the first place. Strength within softness. It was a compelling combination. “That’s because you’ve tried to shield her from his bad side for so long. You’ve done too good a job.”
“Maybe I was wrong.”
“Maybe.” He sat down beside her and slipped his arm around her. Johanna leaned her head against his shoulder, content to rest there for the moment. “But a child deserves some illusions. We lose them fast enough when we grow up.” He looked down at her face. Going with an impulse, he brushed her lips lightly with his own. “What were your illusions as a young girl?”
Johanna grinned, remembering. “That I was going to set the world on fire.”
Her hair shimmered on his shoulder, catching the light from the window. He’d remember this afternoon long after it was gone. “You could still do that.”
“Ha.” But there was no cynicism in her voice. “I’d settle for just surviving.”
“You’ll do more than that, Johanna. You’ll do more than that.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it. “I found this in the kitchen this morning.”
She knew what it was before she looked. It was the sketch she had done of him from memory. She had been unable to sleep and sitting within the warm, tiny kitchen, she had sought comfort in her skills. She looked at it now, then at him. “Do you like it?”
The sketch was of his face alone. There was pride and a touch of arrogance, softened by the trace of a smile in the corners of his mouth. “You made me look very heroic.”
“You are.”
He laughed. “There’d be many who’d argue with you there.”
“They didn’t get to know you like I did,” Johanna said softly.
This would be the last time they’d be like this, talking this way. She felt an ache in her heart that she quickly shut away. She bit her lip to keep her mind away from her pain. The sun streamed in through the window and cast a spotlight around the hope chest he had been working on. It was finished. She had found him working on it late last night and that had prompted her sketch. He looked so intense on getting it done. She could admire that. She could admire a lot of things about Tommy. For a moment longer, she allowed herself to feel his heartbeat beneath her hand on his chest, feel his shoulder rise and fall gently as he drew breath. These things would see her through. “I have to leave, you know.”
His arm tightened around her for only a second before he relaxed it again. “I know.”
“And all this, being with you, was wonderful.” She raised her head to look into his eyes, his soft, wonderful brown eyes.
“Yes, it was.” He looked down into her face. She’d be gone soon. Impulse seized him. “Marry me, Johanna.”
She was tempted. Oh, she was so sorely tempted, but it was wrong for them and they both knew it. The cultures, the needs, the timing, they were all wrong. “You don’t mean that.”
She saw through him. Knew him better than he knew himself. Still, he asked, “Don’t I?”
“No.” She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “It’s just Ivanhoe riding to the rescue again.” She touched his face lovingly, her fingertips tracing the pattern of his cheek. He turned her hand palm side up and kissed it. The shiver that went through her rested in her very core. “You’ve got several years before you can be tied down. I can feel it. Someday you’ll be married, but not now and not to me.”
The bittersweetness of her words made her throat ache with unshed tears. She touched his face once more,
memorizing it with her fingertips, her eyes, her heart. “You’re not the marrying kind yet.” She saw pain rise in his eyes even as agreement joined it. “Oh Tommy, wonderful, wonderful Tommy. I knew that. I won’t say that somewhere in my heart, I didn’t hope that this might work.”
“We can try.”
“No, you’d only wind up wondering if I held you back somehow. These have been the best few weeks of my life, Tommy. You helped me grow up. I love you.” She saw his eyes open wide. “Yes, I love you, but I know it wouldn’t work.”
And he knew it too, had known it, and was bereft because of it.
“Don’t look so sad, Tommy. You’ve helped me more than I can ever say. You helped me heal and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. You made me whole again.”
He kissed her cheek softly, gently and she ached for what couldn’t be. “You were always whole, Johanna. I just made you see it, that’s all.”
She laughed lightly, touched. “Have it your way.” She couldn’t resist touching his hair, letting her fingers travel through it one more time. Words came to her that she had once been forced to read in some faraway English class light years ago. “ ‘And when you speak of this, and you shall, be kind.’”
“Kind?” Tommy laughed, incredulous at her statement. He had never heard of Tea and Sympathy nor the quote, but he understood what she was saying. “I’ll be proud, not kind, Johanna. Proud that once a lovely lady spent a little time with me.”
He kissed her then, kissed her long and hard, with all the love they felt and all the love that would never be. When their lips parted, it was for the last time and they both knew it, even though there were promises exchanged of keeping in touch and possible visits sometime in the future. They both knew that the words were empty words that needed to be said, to be heard, to keep tears from coming. They were words that would never bear any fruit.
“I have a present for you,” he said, rising.
“Oh?” It took her a moment to regain control of herself. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry. He had made her happy and there was no reason to cry and ruin that. But still she felt the sting of gathering tears. She struggled to keep them back. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, Tommy.”
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