Obsession

by Susan Lewis

  Not even the anger could disguise the hurt in Corrie’s eyes as she looked up. ‘Felicity, he walked out of here without even saying goodbye. Don’t you think that means he should be the one to call me?’

  ‘Yes, I do. But if he’s worth it, Corrie, and I think as far as you’re concerned he is, then you’ll swallow that pride and ask him why the hell he did.’

  ‘He made a mistake,’ Corrie reminded her. ‘He said that, he said he’d got it all wrong. So I don’t need to ask, do I?’

  ‘You’re going to take Luke’s word for that?’

  ‘I don’t have much choice, since he chose to say nothing to me. And even if Luke is lying, there’s always Paige Spencer, isn’t there? You told me about her yourself. I take it you weren’t lying.’

  Felicity sighed. ‘No, I wasn’t lying, but it’s only gossip, Corrie. There might be nothing to it. Look, you’re going home in a few days, why not give it one last shot before you leave?’

  ‘Frankly, I don’t see the point. Now can we change the subject, please?’

  ‘No!’ Realizing that her tiredness was in danger of making her sound fiercer than she intended, Felicity made an effort to soften her voice. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I can’t explain this, and God knows, cynic that I am, I’m the last person on earth to romanticize a situation, but I saw the way he was watching you the other night at dinner, and we both know that he was only there because of you. Not only that, I saw the way you looked yesterday when he called. This is special between you two – at least I reckon it could be … Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say really, except that I think he cares for you more than …’

  ‘No!’ Corrie shouted, leaping to her feet. ‘I don’t want to hear it, Felicity. I was taken in by it once, and it won’t happen again. If he cared he’d have called me by now, but he hasn’t, has he? Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to get ready to meet the crew.’

  Felicity watched her walk out, deciding not to go after her, as probably the last thing Corrie could handle right now was pity. She’d been there so many times herself in the past, so she knew that Corrie’s hurt was still too raw to be comforted. Maybe, once the anger had gone, she could try again. Or was it really worth it, Felicity asked herself, stifling another yawn. If the rumours about Paige Spencer were true, then it probably wasn’t.

  For the next forty-eight hours Corrie threw herself single-mindedly into her work. At least it got her through the day, but the nights were a different matter altogether. Sleep continually eluded her, and as she lay there tossing and turning in the darkness, all she knew was the confusion and utter hopelessness she felt inside. She had believed, truly believed that she had meant something to him, and even now, after what had happened, a part of her was still refusing to accept that she hadn’t. She couldn’t forget his eyes when he’d looked at her, nor his tenderness when he touched her, but as Felicity had pointed out, he was a man well practised in the art of seducing women and how naive she was to have fallen for it so completely.

  She spoke to no one about it, she didn’t want to talk about him at all. She just wanted to try and forget, to get on with her life and put this stultifying pain and disappointment behind her.

  But two nights before she was due to fly back to England she found herself picking up the phone and dialling his number. She hadn’t really thought about what she was going to say, all she knew was that Felicity was right. If he was worth it then she would swallow her pride and give him another chance. And he was worth it, even though he had walked out on her and not even bothered to call to explain.

  As the phone started to ring at the other end her nerves clawed at her stomach so cruelly she started to feel sick. If the answerphone picked up the call she knew she wouldn’t leave a message, but the answerphone didn’t. At first Corrie didn’t know who it was, since all she could hear was music, then she heard a woman laugh and Cristos saying ‘give me that phone!’ Then the woman’s voice said, ‘Hi there, Cristos Bennati’s residence.’

  Corrie replaced the receiver, knowing that she would never feel so bad in her life as she did at that moment. But there was still worse to come, for the following morning when she opened the newspaper there, staring back at her, was a picture of Cristos with Paige Spencer. They were leaving Spagos together, Paige was gazing up into his face and Cristos looking straight into the lens, was laughing.

  Luke was sitting at the mirror in his bathroom, staring at himself. His face was ravaged, but he didn’t recognize the pain and sadness in his eyes, he saw only the diminishing light of rage that moments ago had reared up at him, mocking him, perverting him, sucking him into the hell he could never escape …

  Thank God no one had seen him, were anyone ever to witness the rabid demon tormenting his soul it would be the end. Even now he could feel the great monster fidgeting within him. It was a like a separate being, a life force obliterating his own with an unslakeable thirst for vengeance. It governed him, mind, body and soul until he no longer knew who he was.

  Then this morning he’d asked her to marry him. He’d got down on his knees and asked her to become his wife. She’d laughed. She hadn’t said anything, not a single word had passed her lips, she had simply laughed. He knew of course that shock had provoked the response, so he had waited for her laughter to subside and asked again.

  Of course he wasn’t surprised when she turned him down, after all she still carried a torch for Bennati. Neither was he surprised that she had done it so spitefully. She’d guessed that he was behind Bennati walking out on her, but he, Luke, had wanted her to understand that he needed her far more than Bennati ever would. He couldn’t do that while Bennati was around, and what a fool he had been ever to let her come here. He’d only done it so that she would see for herself that a man like Bennati would never be interested in someone like her. He’d wanted to be there to pick up the pieces, to take her battered ego and soothe it so that she would come to recognize his tenderness, but it hadn’t worked out that way. At least not at first, but he had seen to matters, and now, with Bennati no longer an obstacle, he must make her understand that to marry him was the only thing she could do – for all their sakes.

  He pressed his fingers to his eyes as though to push back the tears that had started. She was on her way to Annalise now, he knew that even though she hadn’t admitted it. Annalise had called him herself, just after Corrie had left. Annalise, his darling, precious, Annalise. How he’d wanted to go to her, to hold her as she told him she forgave him. But he had stopped himself, and that was why the rage had come. It had nothing to do with Corrie, he felt only a desperation for Corrie that she should try to understand. But how could she when he couldn’t find it in himself to tell her what he had done, or why it was that he did it?

  He knew that she would try to talk Annalise out of ever seeing him again, and please God she would succeed. He had to let Annalise go; he had to end everything between them before he started doing to her what the bastard had done to Siobhan. But it was going to kill him to lose her, it would sap the very life from him to be without her now. He slumped forward, his body convulsing with sobs. But Corrie wouldn’t succeed, would she? The sly, vindictive beast inside him had seen to that. It had spoken to Annalise and now Corrie wouldn’t stand a chance.

  ‘Corrie,’ he gasped. ‘Oh my God, Corrie! You’ve got to help me. Please, make it stop …’

  ‘Luke! Are you all right?’

  He spun round to find Felicity standing at the door.

  ‘I thought I heard you in here,’ she said, uncertainly. ‘Annalise is still on the line, she’d like to speak to you again.’

  Luke’s eyes had narrowed. He could see her lips moving but barely heard what she was saying. The terror was suddenly with him again, yet he knew with a few last moments of clarity that the rage was closing in. There was nothing he could do to stop it, already it was blinding him to all else beyond Felicity the slag, who’d made him hurt Annalise. Felicity the slag, who had enticed Corrie here to Bennati. Felicity the slag,
who must pay for what she’d done.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she said again, when he continued to stare at her.

  He picked up a towel. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, wiping it over his tear-stained face. ‘Just fine. Tell me, Felicity, would you be liking rabbits?’

  – 18 –

  ‘CORRIE! CORRIE!’

  Corrie smiled as she saw Annalise leaping up and down to attract her attention through the crowd, and lifting an arm Corrie waved back. There could be no mistaking Annalise’s joy to see her and suddenly feeling the need to hug Annalise she started to run.

  ‘Oh, Corrie,’ Annalise cried, as Corrie let go of her baggage trolley and swung her into her arms. ‘Corrie, are you all right?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ Corrie laughed. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Yes. No. Yes, as long as you are. Felicity called me, she told me what happened – Oh, Corrie, what can I say to make you feel better?’

  ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Corrie told her, pulling her trolley out of the path of other passengers. ‘I’m fine, honestly. It happened, now it’s over.’

  ‘But Felicity said you were broken-hearted,’ Annalise protested.

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course I’m not. How can I be? We only spent one night together. No, no, no,’ she said, as Annalise started to protest again. ‘Not another word on the subject. Felicity’s just exaggerated everything out of all proportion and …’

  ‘But you’ve lost weight, Corrie. I can tell.’

  ‘And not a moment too soon,’ Corrie grimaced, wishing more than anything else in the world that she felt even remotely as light-hearted as she sounded. ‘Now come on, let’s get out of here. I take it you’ve still got the hire car.’

  As they drove along the 101 freeway into San Francisco Corrie was aware that Annalise, who kept looking at her and smiling brightly, was trying to work up the courage to tell her something. But, when she casually enquired if Annalise had any news Annalise immediately said,

  ‘No, nothing’s happened. I’ve just been sitting up here thinking, nothing else …’

  ‘Thinking about what?’ As if Corrie needed to ask.

  ‘Things. By the way, I’ve booked us into the St. Francis overlooking Union Square. Diane’s place is too small for us both to camp out in, and I wanted to be with you.’

  Corrie smiled. ‘That’s good,’ she said, ‘because I wanted to be with you too.’

  They talked for a while then about the programme and how the filming had gone, until Corrie suddenly gasped.

  ‘My God, just look at it!’ she cried, as they brinked a hill and the staggering panorama of San Francisco unexpectedly revealed itself before them. They were at the top of Pacific Heights where the roller coaster of a road they were on swept dramatically down towards the heart of the city. ‘It’s stupendous,’ Corrie murmured, gazing at the maze of majestic towers rising through the rippling heat.

  ‘You should see it by night,’ Annalise told her, ‘it takes your breath away.’

  Corrie’s eyes were circles of wonder as she watched the city unfold. Soon, too soon, they were entering the heart of it, but still she was transfixed. She was experiencing an almost overwhelming sense of relief and familiarity. Relief to discover that not everywhere in the United States was like Los Angeles: and familiarity because nestling in amongst the gleaming, spectacular sky-scrapers, was the unmistakable, though neglected, grandeur of bygone days. This town had a heart, more than that it had a soul. And, she realized with a jolt of pleasure, it had a past. She smiled to herself then, unaware until that moment just how much she had missed England these past two weeks. Its history was something she’d always taken for granted, barely even noticed was there it was so familiar. But in Los Angeles, she realized now, she had been uncomfortable without it.

  ‘I thought,’ Annalise said, as they approached Union Square, ‘that since you’re only staying two days we’d dump your bags at the hotel then take you off to see something of the city right away. How does that sound?’

  ‘Perfect,’ Corrie answered, and an hour later, after abandoning the car at the hotel, they were alighting from a taxi down at Fisherman’s Wharf.

  It was teaming with tourists and Corrie balked at the idea of having to spend even a few minutes in such heat with so many people. But, as they strolled from Ghirardelli Square, past the endless queues who were being entertained by buskers as they waited for cable cars, and approached the bay, she stopped being bothered by the masses. This was a wonderful place, so alive and thrumming with excitement, and so entrenched in reality that she was just happy to be there. And how lucky she was, Annalise told her, not to have arrived on a day when the infamous fog was masking it all.

  On reaching Hyde Street Pier they rested their arms on the wall and stared out across the water to the Golden Gate Bridge – and to Alcatraz.

  ‘We can take a trip out there if you like,’ Annalise said.

  Corrie shook her head. She didn’t want to visit a prison, not when just looking at it, even from this distance, was reminding her of what a prison her own body had become. All her feelings were locked deep inside her now, she would never be able to share them with him, never be able to let them go.

  Hooking her arm through Annalise’s they started along the Embarcadero, past the National Floating Park, through a battery of music and streetside dancing, heading towards the site where there had once been a double decker bridge, before it had been destroyed by the earthquake in which so many had perished.

  So many gloomy thoughts, Corrie chided herself, and forcing a smile to her lips dragged Annalise over to look at the countless multi-coloured stalls which lined the street with handcrafted jewellery, caricature portraits, hats, T-shirts, sourdough bread and living sea-food. They bought tiny wooden cable cars which when wound up played I left my Heart in San Francisco, watched and laughed along with the one man juke-box who, in his Punch and Judy box, was playing a lively tune on his trumpet, and devoured ice-creams the size of a candy floss.

  Eventually they reached the world famous Pier 39, and as they strolled arm in arm to where the seals were basking in the afternoon sun, and Corrie inhaled deeply of the tangy salt air, Annalise trespassed into her thoughts with the words, ‘I’ve spoken to Luke, Corrie.’

  Having already guessed this, Corrie was only surprised by how long it had taken Annalise to tell her. ‘When?’ was all she said.

  ‘This morning, just after I talked to Felicity, while you were on your way here.’

  ‘And?’

  Annalise walked on ahead, pushing through the crowd to find them a spot where they could watch the seals. ‘Corrie, please don’t be angry,’ she said, as Corrie joined her, ‘but I’ve decided to go back to him. He wants me to, and it’s what I want too.’

  ‘Even after what he did, after the way he spoke to you?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, Corrie, please try to understand. I love him, and part of loving someone is forgiving them, isn’t it?’

  Corrie watched as a huge grey seal rolled over and flopped into the water. Would she forgive Cristos if he ever did that to her, she was asking herself. She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t imagine him ever doing it. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. What was she talking about? He had allowed his picture to be printed in the newspapers with Paige Spencer, knowing she would be sure to see it. She doubted though that it had even entered his head that it would hurt her so badly, if he had thought of her at all, which he most likely hadn’t. And besides, she and Cristos didn’t even have a relationship, they never had, unless one night constituted a relationship, which it didn’t, so how could she compare her feelings with Annalise’s?

  ‘Did he explain why he did it?’ Corrie asked, knowing already that whatever he had told Annalise wouldn’t have been the truth. But she was wrong, and she could hardly believe her ears when Annalise said,

  ‘He told me he wanted to make you the producer for this programme. That he thought it was the only way he could do it, and now he’s begging me t
o forgive him.’

  ‘Did he say why he wanted to make me the producer?’

  ‘He thought that was what you wanted.’

  ‘Not that way.’

  ‘I know. He understands that now. He told me to tell you that once this programme has been transmitted you’ll revert to being my researcher again.’

  Corrie gave a dry laugh and stared sadly out at the chopping waves. ‘So we all go back to where we were before Los Angeles and pretend nothing ever happened? I only wish it were that easy.’

  ‘Do you mean …? Are you saying that you don’t want to work with me again?’

  ‘No,’ Corrie said, shaking her head. ‘I was thinking of something else.’ She turned to look at Annalise, sweeping her face with her eyes, taking in every line, every pore, every tremor. It was such a pretty face, so young, so trusting and eager. But for how much longer? Already the depth of suffering she had known was beginning to take its toll. ‘I wish you’d give him up, Annalise,’ she said.

  Annalise shook her head. ‘I know you do, but I can’t,’ she whispered.

  ‘But if you could only see what he’s doing to you. You look awful, Annalise. No, ravaged is the word, and it’s him who’s doing it.’

  ‘I know. But it’s because I haven’t been with him. I’ve missed him so badly while I’ve been here. But I made myself stay. I knew I had to think, to decide what to do for the best … Corrie, I can’t live without him. I don’t want to live without him. OK, I know he has his faults, but there are other things about him …’

  ‘What things?’

  Annalise shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I can’t put it into words, but he means more to me than anyone else in the world.’

  Corrie heaved a deep sigh and turned back to the seals. Should she tell Annalise what Luke had said to her before she’d left? How he’d asked her to marry him, that he needed her? She really didn’t think it would do any good, that Annalise, in her desperation, would very likely find it in her heart to forgive even that, and Annalise’s next words confirmed it.