“What difference does it make?” Jerry asked. “Everyone knows it’s not your child anyway.”
“That makes it even worse,” Maurice said. “They all know the only reason I stayed with her was to get a son.”
He raced across the small bridge over the Seine to the Ile Saint-Louis and down the narrow streets to a stop in front of their apartment. He got out of the car and slammed the door angrily. “The bitch!” he swore again. “I’ll make her pay for this. You’ll see.”
***
Dr. Pierre came into the room. He stopped at the side of the bed and looked down at her. “How are you feeling?” He smiled.
“Tired,” she said.
He shrugged. “That’s normal.” Quickly he checked her heart, pulse and blood pressure. “You’re okay.”
“And the baby?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he answered. “One couldn’t ask for anymore. You fed her this morning?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ll put her on a formula for lunch. She’ll have that every other feeding time for a few days, then when she’s adjusted to it, we’ll take her off the breast completely.”
“How long will that take?” she asked.
“Three, four days.
“I don’t want my breasts to get too large,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “I’ll give you a series of shots that will stop the lactation and bring your breasts back to normal in no time.”
“How long do I have to stay in here?”
“About a week. Then you’ll be able to go home.”
“I have a lot to do,” she said.
“It will wait. Your health is more important. But you can begin walking around a little this afternoon. Just don’t overtire yourself.” He snapped his small medical bag closed. “I’ll be back this evening before you go to sleep.”
“Thanks, Doctor Pierre.”
The chief night nurse came into the room just as he left. “Bon jour, Madame la Marquise.” She smiled.
“Bon jour, Soeur.”
“I just came by to see how you were.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“By the way,” the nurse said, “did anyone tell you that your husband was here?”
Tanya was surprised. “No. No one mentioned it. When?”
“Two nights ago,” she said. “It was about two in the morning. The reason I didn’t say anything was because yesterday was my day off.”
“Did he see the baby?”
“No. Funny, because when I went to show her to him, he had already gone.”
Tanya was silent.
“Don’t worry about it,” the nurse said in what she thought was a comforting manner. “I’ve seen that happen many times with husbands. Frenchmen are always upset when they get a daughter instead of a son. But he’ll come around, you’ll see.”
Tanya forced a smile and nodded.
The nurse looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go now and get some sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Thank you, Soeur.”
The door closed again. Tanya looked across the room. The flowers on the dresser were from Johann. Another vase filled with roses had come from Jacques. So Maurice had been here. Strange that there had been no word from him. Not that she expected him to send flowers. There was another knock on the door. “Entrez.”
Johann came into the room followed by Jacques. Both were carrying more flowers. They smiled as they approached the bed. “You look marvelous,” Jacques said.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “I look awful and I know it.”
“No, really,” Johann said. “You look wonderful.”
“You’re both prejudiced.” She laughed. She looked up at them. “What brings you both here this early in the morning?”
“We have two problems,” Johann said. “We need your decision before we can do anything.”
“Bien,” she said. “What’s the first?”
Jacques spoke. “We have to make a public announcement about our deal with Shiki. He wants to do it immediately. I want to wait at least a month for several reasons. One, because you’ll be in shape to appear with him at the press conference. I think it’s very important that we establish immediately your presence in the concern. Two, because it will bring us that much closer to the showings for the fall season and will spark a great deal of interest and publicity to see exactly what we come up with.”
Tanya’s voice was definite. “I’ll go with your plan. Tell Shiki we’ll make the announcement later. Now, what’s the second problem?”
They glanced at each other a moment, then Johann spoke. “It’s Maurice again. Jacques tells me that he’s going all over Paris saying that he’s filing for divorce on the grounds of adultery.”
She looked at Jacques.
He nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard. Not just once, but many times.”
She thought for a moment. ‘I don’t see where it matters,” she said. “Originally I wanted a divorce anyway. If he files, let him have it.”
“It could get complicated,” Johann said. “He’s also claiming that you fraudulently misstated the assets of the companies in making him accept the mineral-water corporation.”
“Did you talk to the lawyers?” she asked.
Johann nodded. “He can’t make it stick but it can create problems. Just from a public-relations point of view.”
She turned to Jacques. “Do you think you can contain it?”
“I won’t be able to keep it out of the papers,” Jacques said. “But I think I can get you a fair amount of space to counter his stories. After all, he’s not exactly a closet queen. If we let him know that we plan to open the door wide, maybe he’ll have second thoughts.”
She nodded. “Okay. Make sure that he hears we’re going to do that. Meanwhile ask my lawyers to file a countersuit for divorce, charging him with pederasty, and have it ready to serve the moment he files against me.”
Johann looked at her. “You don’t need this. You have enough to do.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it,” she said. “It’s one of the facts of life.”
“I suppose so,” he answered. “Have you spoken to Janette yet?”
She shook her head. “She still won’t take my calls. I told her friend Marie-Thérése to tell her that she has a sister.”
“Have you decided on a name for the baby yet?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m going to call her—Lauren.”
“Lauren? That’s a strange name.”
“It’s after my grandmother. My father’s mother. She was American and I always loved her name. When I was little I used to pretend that it was mine.”
***
Marie-Thérése came into their room “The headmistress wants to see you.”
Janette looked up from her book. “What for?”
“She didn’t say. Just come down right away.”
Janette closed the book and put it down. “I’ll see what the old biddy wants and be right back.”
Janette knocked at the office door and then went in. The headmistress was seated behind her desk. A man, his back toward the door, was seated opposite her. As the door opened, he rose to his feet, turning to face Janette.
“Bon jour, Janette,” Maurice said.
Janette stared at him for a moment, then she curtsied as school protocol demanded. “Bon jour, Papa.”
The headmistress smiled. She was fluttery as usual when parents were around. “Your father has come to take you down to Paris to see your mother and your new baby sister. Isn’t that nice?”
Janette looked from one to the other. “I won’t go. I have too much studying to do.”
“But your mother wants to see you,” Maurice said. “She’s still in the clinic.”
“I don’t want to see her,” Janette said defiantly.
“That’s no way to talk to your father,” the headmistress said sharply.
“I won’t go,” Janette repeated stubbornly.
“Now go upstairs and pack a few things and be down here in ten minutes,” Maurice said with authority.
She did not raise her head, her eyes still cast downward. “Yes,” she murmured, then turned and left the room.
Maurice turned back to the headmistress. He smiled apologetically. “I regret the display, Madame, but children today need a firm hand. They’re not like we were when we were young.”
“I understand, Monsieur le Marquis,” the headmistress gushed. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things we have to go through with them.”
***
The conductor examined their tickets, then handed them back to Maurice. “Everything is in order, Monsieur le Marquis,” he said. “The dining car will be open for dinner at six o’clock. If there is anything I can do to make your journey more comfortable, please call on me.”
“Merci, Monsieur,” Maurice said, giving him a banknote.
Deftly the conductor palmed it and left the private compartment, closing the door carefully behind him. They sat on opposite banquettes next to the window. Maurice picked up a newspaper and looked over at her. “Might as well make yourself comfortable,” he said. “We’re not due to arrive in Paris until midnight.”
Janette looked out the window. The train was beginning to wend its way through the mountains. Though it was three o’clock in the afternoon, there wasn’t much light. The day had been overcast with clouds and occasional showers. She reached for a book, opened it and began to read. But her eyes skimmed the pages and the words did not make much sense. After a while she just gave up and pretended to be reading.
They had been traveling almost an hour in silence. Finally Maurice put down his paper and stood up. He went to the small toilet compartment and opened the door. He didn’t bother closing it as he lifted the toilet seat and stood there relieving himself.
Janette looked up from her book. The inside of the toilet door was a full-length mirror and the angle of the door was such that she could see the water gushing from him as if from a giant garden hose. At the same moment, he turned his head and caught her eyes in the mirror. She dropped her gaze immediately, feeling the flush creeping up into her cheeks. She kept her eyes steadfastly on the pages of the book as he came back and sat down opposite her.
Silently he took a cigarette from his gold case, lit it and sat there studying her. She was still wearing the school uniform—white middy blouse and blue skirt. Knee-length white socks and black shoes completed the picture. But here in the dim light of the compartment it seemed incongruous. Already she had the full figure of a woman, and it seemed as if she were trying to hide the fact in child’s clothing.
“Janette.” His voice was sharp. “Are you wearing the underwear I gave you?”
She didn’t look at him. “No.”
“Why not?” he asked. “Didn’t I tell you to always wear it when I’m around?”
“It’s against school regulations.”
“You’re not in school now,” he said. “You should have put them on.”
She looked at him. “You didn’t give me time. I had to be ready in ten minutes.”
“Do you have them with you?”
She nodded. “Yes. In the valise.”
“Put them on.”
“Now?” she asked.
“Now,” he said.
She stood up and took the valise down from the overhead rack and opened it. Quickly she took out the black lingerie and started for the toilet compartment.
He stopped her. “No. I want you to put it on here in front of me.”
She glanced at him silently, then at the open window of the compartment.
He read her glance. “You can pull down the shades. And lock the door.”
She didn’t move.
He raised a threatening hand. Quickly she pulled down the shades and locked the door. She turned back to him. “Now,” he said.
Slowly she undid the buttons of her middy blouse and shrugged it from her shoulders, then the side buttons of her skirt, and let it fall to the floor. She stepped over it. She picked her clothes from the floor and folded them neatly, placing them in the open valise. With her back to him, she began to undo the brassiere.
“Turn around and look at me!” he snapped.
She met his gaze for a moment, then her eyes fell, and still looking down, she undid her brassiere and stepped out of the panties. Silently she put on the black lace brassiere and sheer silk panties. She turned to pick up the middy blouse.
“You’re not finished yet,” he said. “Where are the garter belt and silk stockings?”
Without answering, she took them from the valise. She snapped the belt closed around her hips, then sat down to put on the stockings. A moment later she stood up again to fasten the clips to the stocking tops. Again she reached for the middy blouse.
“No,” he said. “Go back to your seat.”
“Like this?” she asked.
“Like that,” he said shortly. “I’ll tell you when to get dressed.”
“But it’s cold,” she said.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said.
Silently she sank back on the banquette opposite him. He sucked on the cigarette, letting the smoke drift idly from his nose as he looked at her. “Your tits have grown too big for your brassiere already,” he said almost conversationally. “You’ve got a whore’s body, just like your mother.”
She didn’t answer.
“Spread your legs!” he snapped.
Automatically she opened her knees. She felt the pull of the thin silk moving to one side and put a hand down to cover herself.
He slapped her hand away. “I didn’t tell you you could do that.” He laughed suddenly. “You’ve got a big bushy whore’s cunt too. Just like your mother.”
She felt the tears coming to her eyes. She kept her mouth tightly shut as they began to roll down her cheeks.
“Tears?” he asked sarcastically.
She didn’t answer.
He leaned forward and unexpectedly thrust his hand between her legs. Startled, she almost jumped, then the hot wave of an instant orgasm left her weak and trembling while the wetness of her flooded down on his probing fingers.
He leaned back on his banquette, laughing. “You are like your mother, Janette. Wet eyes and wet cunt.”
The sound of the first call for dinner came from the corridor outside. He got to his feet and went into the tiny toilet where he began to wash his hands meticulously.
He looked over his shoulder at her reflected in the mirror. “You can get dressed now, Janette,” he said casually. “I’m hungry and I find it’s always best to eat early on these damn trains. If you wait too long, you’ll find the best dishes are always gone.”
***
The train arrived in Paris an hour and a half late due to the pouring rain. Jerry was on the platform waiting for them and it was two o’clock in the morning when he stopped the small car in front of the apartment on the Ile Saint-Louis.
“I have some cold cuts if you’re hungry,” he said in the small elevator as they made their way up to the fifth floor.
“I’m not hungry,” Janette said. She looked at Maurice. “Why didn’t you take me home?”
Maurice’s hand flashed across her face. “Nobody spoke to you,” he said. “You speak when I tell you to.”
She stared at him silently as the elevator stopped, then followed them out onto the landing. Jerry fumbled with his keys and opened the door. She was surprised at the lavishness of the apartment. From the outside of the building it seemed like nothing, but inside there was everything. The finest of furnishings, carpets, even new American heating-air-conditioning units in the walls.
Maurice led the way through the living room and the dining room, then thr
ough his bedroom to a small room located in a corridor between his room and Jerry’s. There was no door on the room and the only furniture was a small bed, a chair and a washstand in the corner of the room. It was obviously a servant’s room. “Put your things in here,” Maurice said.
“When am I going to see my mother?” she asked.
He looked at her. “I’ll let you know when.” He turned to Jerry. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll get the food out of the refrigerator,” Jerry said.
“No,” Maurice said. “You show her where it is. She’ll do it.”
“I’m tired,” Janette said. “I want to sleep.”
Maurice slapped her. She half fell across the bed. “That will wake you up,” he said. “Now, get out of that stupid school outfit and come and set the table.”
“But I didn’t bring anything else to wear,” she cried.
“You’ll wear what you wore on the train,” he said. “You won’t need anything else.” He turned to Jerry. “Wait here for her. Then show her what to do. I’m going to have a shower and get out of these clothes. They stink from the train.”
After Maurice left the room, she got up from the bed. Jerry stood there, watching her. “Turn around,” she said.
“What for?” Jerry grinned. “I’m going to see you anyway.”
She stood there without moving.
“Maurice wouldn’t like it if I have to call him back,” he said.
Quickly she undressed, her back toward him. When she finally turned around, he let out a low whistle. “Maurice was right. You are built like your mother.”
She stared at him. “You saw my mother too?”
“Yes,” he said. He was silent for a moment, then turned. “Come.”
She followed him into the kitchen. They had just finished setting the table when Maurice came into the dining room, wearing a black silk robe and velvet slippers.
He looked down at the table. “Where are the candles?”
“I forgot them,” Jerry said quickly. “I’ll get them.” He went to the sideboard. A moment later the candles were glowing on the table. He turned off the electric lights.
Maurice reached for the bottle of wine. “We’ll have a glass of wine while you change,” he said to Jerry. He filled two glasses and held one toward her as Jerry left the room. “Here.”
Goodbye, Janette Page 9