Rachel Lindsay - An Affair To Forget

by Rachel Lindsay

  "Valerie doesn't want to leave England," he had said. "Nor does she want a show-business life. Nicky lives in a goldfish bowl and he loves it. He loves his fans—every million of them—and from now on he's going to concentrate entirely on his career."

  Reading the reports, Valerie had to admit they made a good story for the popular press. Indeed as one tabloid put it: Pop Singer Gives Up Love of One Woman for Love of a Million Fans.

  To begin with, Valerie could not walk down the street without being the object of sympathetic stares, but public memory was short and soon it was as if her engagement had never been.

  Sheila and Mark were sympathetic and, taking their cue from her father and her own attitude, made no comment and asked no questions. Only on one occasion did Mark, bumping into her alone on High Street, refer to Nicky.

  "If there's anything I can ever do," he said, "you only have to ask me."

  "I'm fine, Mark. You got over loving me and I'll get over Nicky."

  He colored, at a loss to know what to say, and regretting her sarcasm, she made amends.

  "Time cures everything, Mark. You should know that."

  "Not time alone. In my case it was Sheila. If you could meet someone else————- "

  "I'm sure I will." She smiled. "I'm not quite decrepit yet!"

  "Far from it. You're prettier than ever."

  Mark must have given some thought to their conversation, for a week later he and Sheila insisted on taking her with them to a dance at the local golf club.

  Valerie had no shortage of partners and she made such a skilful pretense of enjoying herself that Mark and Sheila repeated the invitation the following week to another dance. This made it quite clear to her that they saw themselves as matchmakers, but knowing she was still too much in love with Nicky to consider anyone else, she refused to go with them.

  For a short while they left her alone, then another invitation came, this time to a dinner party, and including her father. Realizing he would not go without her, she was forced to accept. How irritating well- meaning friends could be! If only they would leave her alone to recover in her own way.

  Listlessly she dressed herself on the night of the party, bravely deciding to wear the red chiffon, which had been one of her first purchases from Jackie Burns. How astonished Nicky had been at her changed appearance. She crushed the folds of material between her hands and stared across the room.

  She was still no nearer forgetting him than she had been a month ago. Maybe if he had been an ordinary man, never appearing in the news, she would have stood more chance, but she had merely to open a paper to see his face, or turn on the radio to hear his name or voice. To cap it all, two of his songs were on the current hit parade and were whistled down the street and played on every record program.

  "Valerie!" her father called. "Are you ready?"

  Valerie knew she could not face the evening ahead and, going into the hall, she peered over the banisters.

  "Do you mind if I don't come?" she called. "I've got an awful headache."

  Mr. Browne came halfway up the stairs and looked at her. "Would you like me to stay with you? I can easily give Mark a ring."

  "I'd rather be alone. I'll take a couple of aspirins and go to bed."

  "Very well," he said. "But I think you're wrong."

  "Wrong?"

  "You know what I mean. You're not making an effort to forget Nicky and unless you do, you'll mope away the rest of your life."

  "Give me time," she said raggedly.

  "It isn't only time you need. It's a new attitude, a new life."

  "I've been thinking about that. I thought of going abroad for a while."

  "The farther the better?"

  Her smile was bitter. "Somewhere where there are no newspapers and radios!"

  "You can't block out memories, my dear. The best thing to do is to cover them over with new and better ones."

  "I'll write that down and say it to myself daily!"

  He nodded. "Won't you change your mind and come with me tonight?"

  "I'd rather not."

  "Mark will know you were making an excuse."

  "Then perhaps he'll leave me alone!"

  With a sigh her father departed, and Valerie took a couple of aspirins—her pretended headache having become a genuine throbbing at her temples—and sat in front of the living-room fire. The evening paper lay on a side table and she opened it. A picture of Nicky stared at her and she dropped the paper to the floor. She let it lie there for a moment and then the desire to see his picture was so strong that she picked it up and looked at it again.

  How handsome he was! No wonder she could not forget him. And yet it was not just his looks that chained her to him. It was the personality she had glimpsed on occasion: the lonely child that still lay within the man; the brilliantly creative composer; the person who could write love ballads that expressed one's innermost feelings. She stared at the picture closely. Poor Nicky! A man who was afraid to love. Suddenly she remembered something her father had said a short while ago. "If you're afraid to love you might just as well be afraid of living." How true that was. Nicky had been so hurt as a child that he had shut himself away from all feeling. Success had increased his cynicism and his isolation, for he had known himself to be the focal point of millions of screaming girls who wanted an idol to worship. No wonder he had treated every woman as if she were Dawn Meadows! Most of them had behaved the same way.

  Tears welled into her eyes and she put Nicky's photograph face down on the table. Then, determined to fight her depression, she switched on the television. A variety program was in progress and Valerie found her eyes closing. The aspirin had made her drowsy and it was not until the opening chords of Nicky's signature tune filtered into the room that she was startled into wakefulness and saw a close-up of Nicky himself. He looked more handsome than she remembered, thinner too, so that his eyebrows seemed thicker and his eyes larger. How intensely they glittered as he smiled at the audience.

  "I am happy to be here with you again," he said softly, "and for my first number I'd like to sing a new song I have just composed. It's about love and it's dedicated to ail lovers."

  Nicky moved back and seated himself on a chromium stool. He had a guitar on his lap and she recognized it as the one he played at her aunt's. Melody filled the room and his voice rose pure and effortless.

  The words of his song were simple: love suddenly found and suddenly lost; the search to find it again and the admission that when one did, one should never let one's other half go.

  With a murmur of pain she reached out and turned down the sound. But even with no music throbbing in the background she could still hear Nicky singing, softer and nearer than before; and she swung around and saw him in the doorway.

  "No!" she gasped. "You can't be here."

  "I am," he said softly. "You're watching a prerecording."

  She stood up and backed away. "How did you get in?"

  "Your father gave me the key. I was coming up the path when he left the house. I've been wandering around outside trying to pluck up the courage to come in and see you."

  "You've seen me now," she said. "So tell me what you want, and then go."

  He ran his tongue over his lips: a nervous gesture that made him look younger and more unsure of himself.

  "I'm leaving for Hollywood next week and I—I had to see you." He stepped closer to her and she moved behind the chair. His mouth tightened. "Don't worry. I won't touch you if you don't want me to."

  He moved back into the center of the room and looked around as if he were lost. Valerie watched him, her heart troubled. Why did he have to speak to her personally? Why hadn't he telephoned her instead? Or was he after her cooperation again? It seemed logical to assume, and her anger wiped away her sympathy.

  "If you and Bob have any more bright ideas about publicity," she said coldly, "I'm not interested." '

  "He doesn't know I'm here. At the moment we're barely on speaking terms."

  "Why?
"

  "We had a row." Nicky ran his hands through his hair, disheveling it and not caring. "We were discussing you, as a matter of fact, and I found out he'd used my trip over here—when you came back because of your father's accident—to get me a load of publicity in the States."

  "I told you that ages ago," she flared. "You can't pretend you've just discovered it."

  "I just discovered that he thought it was the only reason I flew back to England with you."

  "Wasn't it?" she taunted.

  "No. That's what I've come here to tell you. If Bob believed it, he must have made you believe it too."

  "I didn't need Bob to tell me the obvious."

  "It may have been obvious to you," Nicky said heavily, "but it wasn't to me. I came with you because I wanted to comfort you. For the first time in my life I wanted to protect somebody, and I didn't give a damn about my recording contract or anything else."

  She was puzzled—at a loss to know why it was so important to him to have her believe him.

  "You're not short of admirers, Nicky. Why bother trying to have one more?"

  "I don't give a damn for your admiration. But I don't want your disgust."

  This was not the Nicky she knew, not the pop star who didn't care what others thought of him so long as his fans still applauded.

  "My only motive in coming back to England that time," he repeated, "was to look after you and love you. I wanted to be with you: to share your grief; to be part of your life—the bad as well as the good."

  Looking into his strained face it was impossible for Valerie to doubt him. She still could not understand his motive for coming here, but she had to believe what he was saying.

  "I don't blame you for hating me," he went on. "I behaved like a first-class swine. I used you as I've always used people, and for the first time in my life it rebounded on me." He ran his hand through his hair. "You can't despise me more than I despise myself."

  Realizing what it had cost him to come and humble himself before her, she moved away from the security of the chair and came to stand beside him.

  "I'm sorry I misjudged you, Nicky."

  "Only about my reason for flying back with you," he reminded her. "In all other respects, you were right."

  She was not sure what else to say and she went on looking at him. He met her eyes briefly and turned away.

  "When we were together in New York," he continued, "I wasn't pretending either. You meant something to me then, but I was scared to tell you. I knew I'd hurt you and I was going slowly."

  "Don't say anymore." Frightened, she stepped away from him.

  "Why not? I love you, Val. I never meant to fall in love with you, but I couldn't help myself."

  "Nicky, don't. I believe your reason for coming back from New York with me, but I can't believe this."

  "I'm not surprised." His voice was gruff. "What have I ever done for you to start trusting me? All through my career I've lived like a phony. Until you came into my life I didn't know the meaning of the words truth or love." He laughed mirthlessly. "I was an idol for the fans to worship, and like an idol, you brought me crashing down. You've broken me, Val. You've destroyed Nicky Barratt."

  "Oh no!" she cried. "Don't say that."

  "You have," he persisted. "And I'm so happy I could shout it from the housetops. At last I'm feeling things with my heart. I'm no longer a zombie who only comes to life when he's on the stage or in front of a camera. I'm not afraid anymore that I'll be hurt by people, because even if I am, I'll have other compensations." He turned and saw her bewilderment. "I've learned that one can't go through life avoiding the knocks and blows. Pain is part of my joy; happiness is only valued when you've known sadness. All this may sound trite to you, but to me… well, it's a new discovery, and it's made me reevaluate my whole lifestyle."

  Still hiding her emotion, she said: "Does that mean you're going to do things differently in your career?"

  "In my career and in my personal life too. These last two weeks Bob and I have fought like two tigers, but he's finally seen that I mean what I say and he's agreed to stay with me on different terms. I'm not going to do any more big tours, and I'm cutting down my live performances to a week every six months. I've signed with a major Hollywood studio to make one film a year for the next ten years, and it'll bring me in so much money that I can afford to do nothing for the rest of the time. Which suits me—for it'll leave me plenty of time to compose the musical I've always hankered to do."

  "I'm so pleased for you," she whispered, and could not go on. His nearness confused her and she fought against the desire to fling herself into his arms. "Would you like a drink?" she asked huskily.

  "I only want you. You've heard everything I've said, Valerie. You can't pretend not to know what I'm hoping for."

  "It still wouldn't work."

  "I see." He sank on to the settee and rested his head in his hands. Never had she seen him look so defeated, and when he spoke his voice was slurred.

  "I can't blame you for still saying no. Even when I was driving here I knew I was wasting my time. But I didn't care. I just wanted to tell you how I felt. I never meant to love you. I was afraid of you to begin with. That's why I fought against you so hard. It's why I went to Dawn after we'd spent that day on the boat."

  "Please don't explain. It isn't necessary."

  "Yes, it is. That afternoon when I made love to you—when we nearly…I didn't know what had hit me. I was so scared of falling in love that I had to reassure myself that I hadn't. So I went to Dawn. But that was the last time. Since then, there's been no one." His head was still bent and he was unaware of Valerie moving close to him. "From your point of view I'm not much of a catch. Even though I'm reorganizing my life, it still won't be a quiet one. Whatever I do there'll always be some nosy-parker news hawk or fan snooping around. You were right to turn me down. In my heart I knew you would."

  "Yet you still came here?"

  Nicky looked up, his eyes glittering with tears he made no attempt to hide. "I wanted you to know how I felt; how much I hate the man that I was."

  "Don't hate him too much," she said. "He was the man I first fell in love with."

  He stared into her face, trying to read what was in her mind. "What are you telling me, Val? Don't play with me. This isn't a game anymore. Don't lead me on in order to hurt me. I couldn't take it—not from you."

  "I'd never do that. We've both hurt each other enough to last a lifetime." She knelt beside him so that her face was on a level with his. "When you came here tonight and said you loved me, I was frightened to believe you."

  "And now?"

  "I'm not frightened anymore. You thought I'd turn you down but it didn't stop you from coming here, and that showed me, far more than words could have done, how much you've changed. The old Nicky would have been too proud to have done such a thing."

  "There's no such thing as pride between two people who love one another." He caught her shoulders. "Does that mean you'll marry me?"

  "Try and stop me!"

  For an answer he caught her closely. He did not attempt to kiss her and she was content to rest within the circle of his arms, deriving comfort from his nearness.

  "It's funny," he said shakily, "but some emotions go too deep even for kisses."

  It was so exactly what she was thinking that she could not help smiling. "Darling Nicky! You learn fast."

  "Because you're a good teacher!" He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face so that he could look into her eyes. "I'll get a special licence tomorrow. I'm not going to the States without you."

  She grinned. "Bob will need time to organize the publicity!"

  Nicky said a rude word and kissed the tip of her nose. "We'll give him plenty of things to get publicity on in the future. But I'd like to keep our marriage a private affair between the two of us—and your father."

  "Between the two of us," she echoed, and lifted her hands to pull his head down until their lips could meet. For a second they were two peo
ple, then passion made them one as they clung together unashamedly, their breath mingling, their bodies touching.

  "You're mine," Nicky murmured brokenly. "And I will never let you go."