Goodbye, Janette

by Harold Robbins

  She opened the door and he stood there, the shock of time running backward holding him immobile. Tanya. He almost spoke the name aloud. She was her mother.

  “Johann!” she exclaimed, taking him by the hand and leading him into the suite. Closing the door behind him, she kissed him on both cheeks. “Johann,” she said again.

  Suddenly he felt awkward and stiff, just as he had felt with her mother. “Janette,” he said. And when he spoke her name aloud, the strangeness he felt left him. He blinked his eyes rapidly. “I’m genuinely happy to see you,” he said and meant it.

  She smiled. And that, too, was her mother’s smile. “I never thought you would be in New York.”

  “I came in for a board meeting,” he said. “And when I heard you were in town, I had to call.”

  “I’m glad you did,” she said. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Just coffee,” he answered. “I have other meetings this afternoon.”

  “You haven’t changed,” she smiled. “I have the coffee waiting.” They went to the table and sat down. For a moment he glanced out the window. It was a hot summer day in New York. Central Park was crowded, and the buildings on the West Side shimmered in the heat, but in the enclosed suite on the twenty-second floor of the Pierre, the air conditioning was silent and comfortable.

  She studied him as she poured the coffee. Johann had changed. There was a quiet sense of self about him that she had never felt before. Perhaps because his once-blond hair was grayer, perhaps because he was slightly heavier, perhaps because his dress was American, less formal than it had been in Europe. But even more perhaps because he was content.

  “No sugar,” he said smiling. “I have to watch my weight.”

  She laughed. “We all do.”

  He took the cup. “Tell me about Lauren. Is she enjoying herself?”

  “I think so,” Janette answered. “Right now, she’s on the yacht of a friend of mine in Sardinia. I met them in Saint-Tropez on the weekend.”

  “Is her friend there?”

  “Harvey?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded.

  “Lauren’s known him for years,” he said. “Heidi always worries about him. She thinks he’s a bad influence on her.”

  Janette smiled. “I don’t think Heidi has anything to worry about. Harvey’s a sweet boy and Lauren leads him around by the nose, not the other way around.”

  Johann laughed. “I keep telling her that.”

  “How is Heidi?” Janette asked.

  “Very well,” Johann answered. “We are both well. And very fortunate.” He glanced around the suite. “I thought Jacques might be here.”

  “He had to go out to some meeting,” Janette said. “He asked me to give you his regards and apologies for not being able to wait for you.”

  “I understand,” Johann said. He looked at her. “What happened between you and Carroll?”

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  Johann nodded. “Of course. But that was his version. I would like to hear your side.”

  “There is no side,” Janette said. “He just wanted me to do certain things I would not do.”

  “Such as?”

  She met his gaze. “He wanted me to make a promotion through Lauren. I said that was not in our agreement—that what she did in the collection was a one-time thing for her and not a way of life. He became incensed at that and began to insist. I gave him back his money. That’s the whole of it.”

  Johann nodded. He sipped at his coffee again. “He told me that Philippe Fayard is leaving you to join him.”

  “That’s true,” Janette said.

  “Will that hurt you?” he asked. “Because I can stop him if you want me to.”

  Janette shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything. Philippe’s contract was up this year and I was not planning to renew it. In many ways I have outgrown him and I feel that couture is moving in a completely different direction. I want to be free to follow it without having to fight my own designer at every turn. That was one thing I learned from the last collection.”

  “But financially? I heard you were having problems.”

  “True enough,” she said. “But I’ll solve them. At least we’ll make a great deal of money this year. That will help.”

  “You know, you can always call on me,” he said.

  She looked at him for a moment, then blinked her eyes and nodded. “I’ve always known that, Johann,” she said. “Even when I was at my bitchiest.”

  ***

  Jacques sat morosely in his seat next to Janette as Air France 070 lifted from the runway at Kennedy International Airport into the skies over New York. Janette turned from the window to look at him. “We’re passing over the Statue of Liberty.”

  “If I had my way, we’d take it back,” he said, scowling.

  In spite of herself, she had to smile. “We didn’t lose anything,” she said. “And we learned a great deal.”

  “Sure we did,” he said bitterly. “We learned how stupid and naive we really are.”

  “You’ll feel better when you have a drink,” she said.

  “I need more than that,” he said. “As soon as they turn the seat-belt sign off, I’m going to the john and have a couple of strong toots.”

  She laughed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Damn!” he said. “How could we have been so stupid? It was Givenchy they wanted all the time. They didn’t even have the decency to tell us that the Reardon Group was already negotiating with him.”

  “I don’t blame them for that,” she said. “If I were in their position I would rather go with Givenchy than Janette. After all, he has already proven himself. And he is one of the best.”

  “They dragged us all the way over just to pick our brains,” he said.

  “We picked theirs too,” she said. “At least now we know what they’re looking for. Besides they haven’t signed with Givenchy yet. Maybe they never will. He has a great deal more to be independent about than we have.”

  A faint bell announced the seat-belt light going off. Jacques got to his feet. “A double scotch on the rocks,” he said to the stewardess as he started for the washroom.

  “Champagne,” Janette said, rising also. She waited outside the lavatory door and took the small vial from his hand as he came out. “Feel better now?”

  “It helps,” he said grumpily. “So far that’s the only good thing about this trip.”

  She locked the door behind her and looked into the mirror. The washroom lights on airplanes were never the most flattering. She looked tired. There were faint dark shadows under her eyes. She opened the vial and, using his gold spoon, took a snort. She breathed deeply, letting the cocaine get into her. She felt the lift. She put a tiny bit on her finger and rubbed it into her gums. She liked the taste. She closed the vial carefully and put it in her bag.

  She looked into the mirror once again. She did not appear so tired now. Quickly she checked her makeup—a little powder under her eyes on her cheekbones, lip gloss, and she was ready to go back to her seat.

  Jacques rose to let her into her seat. He handed her the glass of champagne and raised his drink. “Cheers,” he said. “You look better.”

  “Shows you what a little makeup will do,” she laughed.

  They both sipped at their drinks. “Now what?” Jacques asked.

  She shrugged. “We’ll see. At least we’re making money this year so we’re in no immediate trouble.”

  “Do you think Johann meant it when he told you that you can go to him for money?” he asked.

  “I’m sure that he did,” she said. “But I’m not going to. It would mean living in my mother’s shadow forever and never being on my own.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Too bad your friend Patrick has nothing to do with his family’s business. If he did, we probably could pull it off.”

  She looked at him thoughtfully. Patrick has his own quirks. But under the right circumstances they could be m
ade to work for her. At this point there was nothing to lose. “Maybe we still can,” she said.

  ***

  The lights were on but the villa seemed empty when Lauren and Harvey came through the front door around midnight. Harvey put down their valises. “Maybe she’s not back from New York yet,” he said.

  “She said she would be back on the weekend,” Lauren answered.

  Janette’s voice came from the balcony at the top of the staircase. “Lauren?”

  “Yes,” Lauren called back. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

  “You didn’t,” Janette said. “I got a call from a friend at L’Escale about a half hour ago that you had just come into port, and I was getting dressed to go down and join you. Is Patrick with you?”

  “No,” Lauren answered. “Just Harvey. Patrick was going to turn in early. Everything go all right in New York?”

  “Fine,” Janette said. “I saw Johann. He sends you his love. Did you have fun in Sardinia?”

  “It was great,” Lauren said. “The beaches are big and quiet. Not like here.”

  Janette came down the staircase. She was wearing a tight-fitting black leather micro-mini skirt. Her eyes were bright, and there were flecks of golden glitter on the makeup on her cheekbones. “What about the nightlife?” she asked. “I heard a great new discothéque opened there.”

  “We never went out at night. Once or twice to a restaurant but mainly we stayed on the boat,” Lauren answered. “It never seemed as if very much was happening.”

  “That doesn’t sound very much like Patrick,” Janette said. “He usually never wants to stay in.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Harvey announced. “It will feel good to sleep one night in a bed that isn’t moving. I still feel as if I’m walking on a deck.”

  “You’ll be over it in the morning,” Janette laughed as he started up the steps.

  Lauren waited until she heard the door of his room close, then turned to Janette. “I have a joint here. Would you like to share it?”

  “Of course,” Janette answered. She looked at Lauren as she lit the joint. “Is everything all right? You look very serious.”

  “Everything’s all right,” Lauren said quickly, passing the joint to her.

  Janette dragged on it. “Are you having a problem with Harvey?”

  “No.” Lauren shook her head. She looked at her sister. “What do you think of Patrick? Seriously.”

  “Patrick’s okay,” Janette answered. “He’s bright and up and likes to have fun.”

  “He said he was in love with you once and wanted to marry you,” Lauren said.

  Janette laughed. “He was either stoned or drunk or being silly, and I think the only reason he asked me was because he was sure that I would never do it.” Then she saw the expression on Lauren’s face. “Is he making a problem for you?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Lauren looked into her eyes. “Are you in love with him?”

  Janette laughed. “Patrick? Never. He’s a nice boy but I can’t see myself with him.”

  A kind of relief came into Lauren’s eyes. “That makes me feel better.”

  “Why?” And then even before Lauren answered, Janette knew. “Are you in love with him?”

  “Yes,” Lauren answered, dropping her eyes for a moment, then raising them again. “And he says he’s in love with me and wants to marry me. But I didn’t want to give him an answer until I knew just where you stood. I didn’t want to come between you.”

  “There’s nothing between Patrick and me for you to upset,” Janette said quickly. She reached for Lauren’s hand. “But you’re still a child, you’re only seventeen. Are you sure you know about yourself, how you really feel?”

  “I know how I feel about him,” Lauren said. “I do love him. But I told him I wouldn’t marry him right now. Not until I was eighteen.”

  “And what did he say?” Janette asked.

  “He said that would be okay. But he wants to announce our engagement right away.”

  Janette was silent for a moment. “Have you made love with him?”

  “Not yet,” Lauren said. “I didn’t want to until I knew exactly where I stood.”

  “What happened to his two friends?” Janette asked.

  “They left the boat the day after we got to Sardinia,” Lauren answered. “Patrick told me that he was through with all that. He was thinking seriously about going back into business as his father had wanted him to.”

  Janette dragged on the joint again, then gave it back to Lauren. She smiled slowly. “He must be serious about you then,” she said. “Because for him to even think about going to work is one of the major miracles of all time.”

  “He really does know a lot about business,” Lauren said quickly. “It was only that his father was so important that he ran away from it. But his father is dead now.”

  Janette nodded. She could understand that. She bent over and kissed Lauren’s cheek. “It will have to be your decision, darling,” she said. “Whatever that is, you can count on me to support you in it.”

  Impulsively Lauren hugged her. “I’m glad. Mother and Dad will go through the roof when I tell them.”

  “I’m sure we can make them see the light,” Janette said. She nodded toward the staircase. “Does he know anything about it?”

  Lauren shook her head. “No. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone until I had spoken to you. Now I can tell him.”

  “It can wait until morning,” Janette said. “He’ll be upset. He’s in love with you.”

  “Harvey?” Lauren’s voice was happily unbelieving. “You don’t really know about us. We’ve been pals for years. He won’t be upset at all.”

  She said it. But then the moment the words left her lips she knew it wouldn’t be like that at all.

  ***

  The light was on in his room. It spilled under the closed door into the hall as she walked past it. She hesitated a moment, then knocked softly. She heard him moving around but there was no answer. She knocked again. Louder this time. “Harvey.”

  His voice was muffled. “Yes.”

  “Are you going to bed?” Her voice echoed in the hall.

  After a moment, he opened the door and stood there. “What do you want?” he asked. His voice was hoarse.

  “I want to talk to you,” she said.

  He stood silently looking at her, then stepped back abruptly. “Okay.”

  His valise lay open on the bed, his clothing next to it. She turned to him as he closed the door. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He walked past her to the open valise and picked up a stack of T-shirts and dumped them into the valise. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m going home tomorrow.”

  She watched him silently as he placed some shirts in the bag. “There’s no reason for you to go,” she said.

  He turned and looked at her. The hurt in his voice matched his eyes. “No? I’m not that stupid. You must think I’m a fool.”

  “I don’t think you’re a fool, Harvey,” she said softly.

  He turned his face away from her. He didn’t want her to see the mist that was blurring his vision. His voice was strained and tight. “I didn’t give a damn about coming to Europe. I came here to be with you.”

  “You can still be here with me,” she said.

  He looked into her eyes. “You know that I can’t. And I know that I can’t. So who are you trying to kid?” She didn’t answer and he continued. “Do you think I didn’t see what was happening? What was going on between you and Patrick?”

  “Nothing happened,” she said.

  “No?” he asked with a sarcasm that he himself never knew he had. “I could have gotten off the boat with those two girls and you never would have known that I was gone.”

  “Harvey, Harvey,” she said softly, going to him. She put her hands on his arms. “We’re friends. I always want us to
be friends.”

  He looked down into her face and then couldn’t stop the rush of tears to his eyes. His arms went around her and he pulled her head tightly against his chest. “Look, Lauren,” he said huskily. “I knew that we were both kids. But I always knew that I loved you. But kids don’t talk about love. That’s for grownups and I always thought there was time for that. Maybe I was wrong, but I never figured that you’d go for an old man.”

  Lauren was crying too. “He’s not an old man,” she snuffled against his chest. “He’s not going to be thirty until next year.”

  “He’s still twelve years older than you are. That’s a lot.”

  “That’s not much,” she said. “My father is sixteen years older than my mother.”

  “And he talks funny,” Harvey said. “I never can even understand a word he says. Half the time I have to guess at what he means. Why can’t he talk English like the rest of us?”

  “Because he is English,” she said. “And they talk different than Americans.”

  “I bet there are a lot of things they do different than Americans,” he said.

  She placed a gentle finger on his lips to keep him from speaking and looked up into his face. “Harvey, I’m going to marry him.”

  She felt his jaw go slack against her finger and his mouth drop open as he pushed her away from him. He looked down at her in amazement. “Holy cats! Your folks’ll kill you!”

  “No they won’t,” she said.

  He was still staring at her. “That’s real serious,” he said.

  “I know. A little scary too.”

  “Yeah,” he said. He thought for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not overdoing it?”

  “I’m sure,” she said. “I’m in love with him.”

  “Oh, brother!” he exclaimed. “That’s a real mind-blower. Getting married and all that. That’s lifetime stuff.”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  He turned back to his valise and came up with a small vial. “This is the last I’ve got of number thirteen. I’ve been saving it for an emergency like this.”

  “What does it do?” she asked as he began to roll the joint.

  “Gives you confidence,” he said. “Makes you feel there’s nothing in the world that you can’t handle.”