The Last Princess

by Cynthia Freeman

  “I think it started a few weeks after we arrived here. I was lonely, and she was there. It really didn’t mean anything, Lily.”

  “So you were just like a pair of animals in heat? And I’m supposed to understand? God, it’s so degrading! To think of the two of you doing the same things that we do … another woman, touching my husband—”

  She broke off, unable to go on.

  As she spoke, Harry felt increasingly defensive. It sounded so bestial, the way she put it. Guilt began to wear heavily upon him. He could not bear it. Though he thought to check himself, he lashed out, assigning blame to her. “Listen, Lily! You’re not exactly blameless in all this, you know! I’m a man, with normal physical needs. You must admit we’ve been pretty distant lately. And I’m not just talking about my being in Israel and your staying on in New York. Why, ever since—” Harry broke off.

  “Since Jeremy’s death? Is that what you were about to say? When I’m mourning for our child, I’m supposed to be worrying about your needs?”

  “No, Lily, of course not! But it’s been a while since that time. All I’m saying is that I’d like some affection—”

  “Anywhere you can get it? Come on, Harry. I’ve never denied you!”

  “There’s a difference between not denying it and wanting it! This has been going on for years. So many times I’ve felt pushed aside—times when the children were little and you spent all your time with them, and very little with me.”

  “That only happened because you got so involved with your work!” Lily stormed.

  “I don’t think so, Lily,” Harry returned coldly. “I’ll never forget, years ago, how I tried to share my work with you but you were always so busy with the children … always the children!”

  “That’s a lie, Harry. The children became my substitute for the affection and companionship that you didn’t give me! You shut me out of your life, out of that room—I always felt like an intruder.”

  “Let me refresh your memory. I remember wanting to read an article, the first meaningful thing I had done—and God, I wanted to share it with you. But you weren’t there, Lily; you were busy being Jeremy’s mother. You always made me feel as if I didn’t count, as though I came second, and I did resent it—I admit it.”

  “The children left home a long time ago, Harry. I didn’t see you try to bring me into your confidence then.”

  “Patterns that have been established over years aren’t changed overnight. What was I supposed to do, get on my knees and thank you for finally having time for me?”

  Lily was stunned by the rage and bitterness in his voice. Had he been suppressing these thoughts all these years? Didn’t he realize what work it was raising children? How much time they took from your day? Didn’t he suspect how isolated she’d felt in their marriage? Harry had always had other outlets—his career, his fame. Who else did she have to turn to besides him? And now, she found, she didn’t even have that. But Harry was still ranting.

  “And worst of all, you abandoned me when I needed you most! Do you realize what I was reduced to when you made me feel that I was responsible for Jeremy’s death? Can you understand how that made me feel? It was bad enough hearing it from Drew, but from you, Lily? You clung to your grief, building such a wall around yourself even I couldn’t get through. So now I’ve gone outside our marriage for affection. Can you blame me?”

  There was complete silence in the room. Lily stared at him coldly. “No, Harry. How could I ever blame you?” But for all the sarcasm in her tone, she had to admit there was some truth in what he was telling her.

  Maybe Harry sensed her softening. He pushed on. “Can you honestly say I’m totally to blame for this thing with Valerie?” He drew a deep breath. Before she could answer, he said, “Don’t get me wrong, Lily. I’m not trying to blame you. This has been a hard time for both of us. But the fact is, in the last few years, I haven’t felt that you’ve been a wife to me.”

  In a low voice, Lily asked, “So where do we go from here, Harry? I suppose you want a divorce.”

  “Divorce?” He stared back at her. “What do you mean, I want a divorce?”

  “Well, if you’ve been so unhappy with me …”

  Harry shook his head. “Lily … darling, look at me. I’ve said a lot of things today that have been bottled up inside me for a long time. But I don’t want to lose sight of something far more important.” He paused. “Lily, I still love you. I have since the moment I met you, and I will until the day I die. I know I’ve hurt you, probably too much to ask that you forgive me, but is there any way we could make a fresh start? I—I just can’t face the thought of life without you.”

  His voice trembled slightly as he uttered the last words. In spite of her grief and disillusionment, Lily felt a sudden rush of hope. Perhaps they would survive this storm.

  “Lily?” Harry persisted. “Do you—still love me?”

  Her look gave him answer.

  Gently framing her face with his hands, he looked at her longingly for a moment, then kissed her.

  It was a moment fraught with the hope of reconciliation and renewal.

  After a long while, Harry spoke again. “Darling, when do you have to be back?”

  “Soon. I was only going to be here for two days.”

  “Well, I know that you have an obligation. I never should have asked you to give it up, but could you just take one or two more days?”

  Eyes bright, she nodded.

  “Wonderful. We’re going to Paris, darling.” Kissing her again, he murmured softly. “Paris is for lovers.”

  It was a glorious three days. They stayed at the Ritz, and Lily discovered a whole new Harry—or, rather, one who had been lost for a long time.

  By night, they went to Maxim’s and the Tour d’Argent, the Folies-Bergère and the Club Américain. By day, they shopped at Dior and Chanel and at all the elegant little salons of the Rue du Faubourg-St.-Honoré.

  Harry insisted on buying Lily an entire wardrobe, down to new hats and new shoes. On their last day there, he took her to Cartier and bought her a magnificent emerald necklace.

  By some unspoken agreement, they avoided discussing Israel and Valerie, but as they stood at the airport waiting for their respective planes, Harry brought up the awkward subject.

  “Lily, the minute I get back to Safed I’m going to tell Valerie that she has to go.”

  “Immediately?”

  “Yes—of course, darling.”

  Taking her into his arms, he whispered, “It was a mistake, Lily. A huge mistake, and I’m sorry. Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “I love you, Harry.”

  When they heard Lily’s boarding call come over the loudspeaker, Harry took her into his arms and held her very close. There was a gentleness in the gesture which left Lily feeling that this was the beginning of a new life—a new love—for both of them. She no longer needed words to reassure her.

  “I’ll call every day, Lily. I can hardly wait until you can come and join me. I want you back in my arms.”

  Their flights were scheduled closely together. No sooner was Lily airborne than Harry heard his own boarding call.

  Half an hour later, the silver TWA plane was winging its way over the Mediterranean toward Tel Aviv. Harry sat rehearsing what he would say to Valerie once he arrived.

  Discarding a mistress wasn’t easy. And Harry did have some fondness for Valerie. That he could not deny. She had given so generously of herself—in and out of bed. She had provided such solace to him just when Lily was neglecting him most. He owed her much for these last few months.

  Harry felt a twinge of guilt when he recalled Valerie’s frank declaration of love at Caesarea. To ease his sense of culpability, he reminded himself that she had known from the outset that there was no hope of anything permanent between them. He’d been up front from the start. And in truth, she’d be better off without him. After the breakup she would be free to move on to a relationship with a real future.

 
But despite his rationalizing, he was pained by the sight of her rushing to greet him at the gate. She gave him a kiss hello and cried, “Harry, welcome back! I’ve missed you so.”

  Harry broke away from her gently.

  Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, Harry, I’m so glad you’re back. What made you take it into your head to fly off to Paris, anyway?” Not waiting for an answer, she kissed him again and said, “How about instead of going back to Safed tonight, we stay here in Tel Aviv? I know a great hotel. It would be such fun, Harry!” She gave him a suggestive look.

  It was difficult for him to meet her gaze. He was tempted to put off the confrontation. But his reconciliation had left him strongly imbued with new resolve.

  “Valerie,” he said simply, “we need to talk.”

  “About what?” She was suddenly curious—and concerned.

  He hesitated. An airport terminal was no place to discuss this.

  “Listen, I’m hungry. How about if I take you to dinner and we’ll talk then?”

  “You sound so serious, Harry. Can you give me a hint?”

  Valerie’s mind worked fast. She could sense Harry’s reserve. Something had happened. He was a changed man. Maybe he met someone in Paris? Why had he gone there in the first place? Valerie had been completely taken aback by his spur-of-the-moment trip. He’d slipped away without so much as a word to her.

  Having steamed open Lily’s letters to him, she knew they had no immediate plans to meet; those letters contained nothing but a recital of her dull charity activities, polite inquiries after his welfare, and a restrained “Love, Lily.” Nothing there to throw a monkey wrench into her schemes.

  Harry seemed withdrawn through their dinner. Whatever he’d had to discuss so urgently did not seem so pressing now. Valerie kept her mood and looks wistful. The little-girl-lost look was one of her specialties. She thought it might appeal to Harry’s protective side.

  But for once Valerie was not the architect of Harry’s thoughts, for however much she’d baited him in the past. As they sat there he was secretly comparing her to Lily as she looked the night before in Paris. And there was no comparison.

  Truth be told, he would miss Valerie most for her assistance with his book. But Harry well understood he’d have to incur the inconvenience. There was no way he could continue to associate with her—not in any capacity. Lily had given no ultimatums, but she didn’t have to. Harry well knew Valerie would have to go. If only he’d released her from service when Lily first returned to Sutton Place from the farm.

  Tonight Valerie seemed especially sweet and vulnerable. Harry cursed himself for what he had to say.

  He swallowed his last sip of coffee, cleared his throat, and began. “Valerie, it won’t do any good to beat around the bush. Lily has found out about us.”

  Her worst fear had come true. She was not ready for Lily to know about them—not yet. “But how?” she stammered. “Who told her?”

  “Nobody told her. She flew in Friday night to surprise me, drove up to Safed around midnight, and—well, I’m afraid she actually saw us in bed together.”

  Lily must have been stunned—and furious. The reason for the Paris trip suddenly became clear: Harry had taken Lily there in hopes of patching things up between them. But Valerie still had reason to hope; Lily had not returned to Israel with Harry. Perhaps he would be free even sooner than she’d planned.

  “So what did you decide to do?” she asked.

  “Obviously, Lily was very upset, but we had a long talk, then the trip. We’re going to work this out.” Harry paused. “I guess you know this means we’re going to have to stop seeing each other.”

  “Stop seeing each other?” she cried. “Just like that?” Valerie could hardly believe it.

  “You know there’s no way we can continue working together, not after all this.”

  “You mean you’re firing me?” She had thought it only a matter of weeks—days—before he realized that he was in love with her. My God, she had made herself indispensable. She had been there for him when Lily never was. How could she lose him like this? Valerie knew that if she wanted to buy more time, she’d have to take a pragmatic approach. “Why, we’re in the middle of the first draft! I can’t leave. Does Lily understand how closely we work together?”

  “Yes,” Harry replied. “Lily understands exactly how closely we’ve been working together—that’s the whole point.”

  Valerie could not believe that at the very least Harry would not keep her on in her secretarial capacity just as he had before.

  “Okay, Harry,” she said in a calm, reasonable voice. “So you and I have had an affair. But the book—doesn’t it mean anything to her at all? She must know the importance of what you’re doing. Is she going to let petty jealousy keep you from the kind of secretary you need?”

  “Look, Valerie, the subject is not open to debate. Frankly, at this point, Lily wouldn’t care if I put the entire manuscript of The Genesis in the fire, if it meant getting rid of you.”

  Valerie’s blood began to boil. “Getting rid of me? As if I’m some old shoe?”

  “Valerie, I know this seems abrupt. But from the start I’ve made it clear I couldn’t promise you anything. And you can imagine how Lily feels. She’s angry, and very hurt. I can’t say I blame her.”

  “She’s angry and hurt? Really? And you can’t blame her for that? Or for Ellis Knox, or anything else?”

  “Now, wait just a minute, Valerie. You can’t compare yourself to Ellis. Nothing has ever gone on between them. What you and I did was wrong. There’s no way around it.”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “So now you’re going to get moralistic on me? You certainly didn’t have many scruples that night on the terrace when you whisked me off my feet. Or back in New York last year either, for that matter.”

  Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Valerie was well within her rights. “Look, Valerie, I’m not trying to say that I’m blameless—far from it. I’m just saying that we’ve let this go too far already, and it’s time to break it off. I wish that we could go on working together, but we can’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Simple?” Valerie shrilled. “You mean you’re going to just dump me?”

  “Valerie, for God’s sake, I’m married—you knew that! Right from the very start, I told you that there was no future for us. I didn’t promise you anything.”

  “Really? Well, you might have said that there was no future in it, but you sure didn’t act like it that weekend in Caesarea! In fact, you acted as if you were madly in love with me! A woman has intuition, Harry. Are you trying to tell me that you were thinking about Lily when you were screwing me?”

  “Valerie, keep your voice down,” he said, flushing.

  “I won’t!” she screamed. “You liked me well enough when I was doing all those things to you! The things your wife—the frigid bitch—is too much of a lady to do!”

  Harry was stunned to see sweet, schoolgirlish Valerie shrieking like a harridan and cursing as well. Recovering slightly, he flushed with anger and muttered through clenched teeth, “How dare you talk like that about Lily! She considered you her best friend.”

  “So now she’s the angel, and I’m the bitch?”

  Harry was grim. “Yes. And maybe I’ve been a fool for not seeing that from the start.”

  But Valerie was nearly too hysterical to hear. “You can’t do this to me, you rotten bastard, you son of a bitch!”

  Harry glanced around the restaurant nervously. He prayed that no one would recognize him. What a story this would make if it reached the press.

  Without a word he grabbed Valerie by the arm and dragged her outside. But Valerie would not be led. With her free arm, she began battering him, screaming every unprintable name in the book. Harry had never heard such language from a woman, and seldom from a man.

  He tried to catch her arm, but she evaded him and managed to land a blow to his jaw. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slapped her across the face. “Stop! Valerie,
stop!”

  The unexpected retaliation quieted her. She stood wild-eyed and breathing hard. Harry looked at her as though they’d just met. Only this time he saw her for what she really was. He wasn’t deluded by her outward charms.

  “I’ll have your things sent to the King David, along with two months’ severance pay.”

  Taking out several large bills, he held them out to her. “And then I never want to see or hear from you again. In fact, I want to forget I ever knew you.”

  After her taxi drove off, he walked slowly back to his car. What a nightmare this had been!

  Harry couldn’t help but wonder, had that vulgarity always been in Valerie? How could he never have sensed it? How could he not have known? For all of his supposed insight into the emotions and sensitivities of his fictional creations, Harry could hardly believe how blind he sometimes was to real people’s character and motivation. He had made the same mistake with his children and his wife. Now he’d been equally stupid with Valerie. Oh, not that tonight’s scorned woman was the real one either. In truth, she represented the kind of intertwining of good and evil which was the leitmotif of The Genesis.

  But Harry couldn’t think of his novel. Not then. Instead, he tried to focus on Lily. How beautiful she had looked as they strolled along the Champs-Elysees. Wonderful Lily, waiting faithfully for him in New York. How lucky he was that she hadn’t left him, that she had been able to forgive.

  Meanwhile, back in New York, Lily had just arrived at the airport; Ellis was waiting for her at the gate. He had nearly died of curiosity and apprehension since he received Lily’s message. What had made her cancel that earlier flight? Then, when she called from Paris, he had wondered whether—no, hoped—she had gone there to console herself. He had expected sadness, resignation, a brave front on her misery. But as she descended from the plane, there was a lilt in her step, a smile on her lips. For whatever might have happened on her arrival in Israel, Harry had managed to persuade Lily to forgive him. It figured, he thought bitterly. No doubt a man as creative and imaginative as Harry invented a story to pacify her.