Time Heals Everything

by Linda Swain

  I’ve got to do something before Ash pulls his piece. Once he does, it’s all over, and I can’t … I can’t bear it … Kat glanced at Nick and then back at Ash. Gathering her courage, she slid past Nick, eyeing both men, a droll expression on her face. “I don’t have the tolerance for this tonight, gentleman. If you two need to have a pissing contest, be my guest, but frankly, I need a drink.”

  Watching Kat fade into the darkness of the club, Nick turned his attention to Ash.

  “There’s no point in pretending you didn’t hear what was said, and I wouldn’t deny it anyway.” He leaned back against the balcony. “I’m warning you, Montserrat, I’ll do whatever it takes to get Kat back, and this time I won’t let her go.”

  Sliding from the darkness, Madeline wrapped her arms around Ash, and as she did, Nick’s face twisted in disgust. “I won’t deny that I’ve done my share of whoring around, but at least I wasn’t with Kat when I did it. Watch yourself, Montserrat, because you’ll never see me coming.”

  Ashton’s smoky laugh followed him back into the club, Madeline at his side. “I hope that is a promise, Nicholas, because if it is not, it is a very empty threat.”

  For a moment, Nick turned to stare, his eyes burning bright in the night. “I never make idle threats . . . or promises that I can’t keep.”

  April 1939

  Kat looked up in surprise at the sound of the bedroom door opening and at Ash sauntering through it as he bestowed on her his usual charming smile.

  She had to admit, he cut a dashing figure in his white suite coat, a razor sharp crease down his black trousers. His tie dangled around his collar, while a red carnation lay limply in his jacket. A cascade of her favorite flowers flourished in one of his hands while a bottle of expensive champagne dangled from the other.

  Well, well, my errant husband comes home at last. After the near disastrous meeting between Nick and Ashton on the balcony of Simply Blues, Kat had stayed away from the club and its temptations, but Ashton, obviously smitten with the singer who had once again taken her place, had not. She had been left alone in the house while her husband sought the embrace of another.

  And now? Madeline doesn’t want intimacy tonight, but he does. So he came home to me, his afterthought. She watched him casually before dismissing him with little more than a glance as her brush continued to flow through her auburn locks. “What’s wrong?” she asked absently. “Did you and Madeline quarrel?”

  The smile on Ashton’s face faded as he tossed the flowers onto the floor with barely restrained violence. “No, we did not,” he ground out. “She is feeling . . . indisposed.”

  She’s pregnant, Kat thought achingly. I recognized the signs the last time I was at the club.

  Ignoring the terrible emptiness in in her heart that came on the heels of the thought of anyone else having the children that she could not, she shrugged. “Well, isn’t that too bad? But it’s nice to have you home, for a change.” Placing down her brush, she watched the flowers as he carelessly crushed them beneath his feet on his way to an elegant sideboard where crystal glasses sat.

  Expertly, he opened the champagne, pouring the golden liquid into two glasses, layering the top with the powder that never left his side. “It was you who convinced me to send Anton to one of those camps for children so that we could spend some time alone. But what do I find when I do come home, but a shrew with a bitter tongue and a body as cold as ice. Here,” he continued, forcing a glass into her hand, “perhaps this will tame that nasty tongue of yours. After all, you have not indulged since . . .” Not since the child died.

  She watched as the bubbles danced, the white powder moving through the liquid in a strange rhythm. “Yeah, sure. . .” She sipped the contents of her glass cautiously, noticing that Ash had already gulped down his first and was swiftly pouring another.

  “How do you do it?” she asked bitterly as she took a long drink. “How do you come home to me after being with her?” Kat looked at the man to whom she now considered herself trapped, rather than married. “Madeline loves you . . . it’s obvious she’s carrying your child. So, why not just admit that we’ve made a mistake and . . .”

  Sighing, Ash looked at her over his glass, blinking his opalescent eyes as the drugs in his champagne hit his system. “Must we go through this, yet again? There has never been a divorce in my family, so please, discontinue asking. As for the matter of Madeline’s child,” he continued with uncharacteristic cruelty, “it will be cared for. When the time comes, she will go away to have her child. It will, of course, carry my name, especially if it is a son.”

  Kat’s hand flew to her mouth, but he ignored the flash of agony building in her features. He sighed and turned on her. “Why do you insist on this idea of fidelity? It is outmoded and . . . puritanical, even. Regardless of how I entertain myself, you are still my wife.”

  “Entertain yourself?” She choked, turning away from him, not noticing the addition of more narcotics as he refilled her glass. She turned back, gulping the contents mindlessly, her eyes filling with reckless fury brought on by the drugs. “And what if I took a lover? What if . . . I took Nick up on his offer?” Her eyes lit up, fired by the cocaine and the alcohol as they struck her empty stomach. “What if I took him up on the arrangement that he wanted?” She forced her voice to cool, dragging the feeling from her words to leave them expressionless. “Would it bother you if I sought the kind of entertainment that he could offer me? Would it bother you, Ash, if he and I became lovers once more?” She shot a sidelong glance at him, knowing her words were rash, dangerous, even. But I can’t stop. And maybe I don’t want to stop. If he can play around, why can’t I?

  For a moment, his glittering eyes fixed her in place before his lips compressed themselves into a thin line, his face pale with rage. He moved a bit unsteadily to face her, but murder reflected in his eyes when he did. “You do, just once,” he whispered, “and I’ll break that pretty neck of yours. After I make you watch me put a bullet between those darling blue eyes of his.”

  When she threw back her head and laughed, she knew that the bravery she felt was the speed of the drugs as they raced through her veins. “You talk awfully brave for a man that has only killed clay pigeons.” Suddenly the room began to spin and Ash’s words came in a slow, burbling gargle, as if he was speaking to her under water. Her eyes widened in fear.

  He’s given me too much . . . he’s forgotten that I haven’t used . . .

  She began taking panting little breaths that Ashton might have found worrisome, had he been in full possession of himself. He too, had consumed more than what his body was accustomed and his buried jealousies and furies rose to the surface, far beyond his control, destroying all thoughts of reason.

  “You’re my wife!” Ash roared, pulling her roughly to him. Ignoring the crashing of their glasses as they struck the floor or the sharp scent of flowers crushed under their feet, his eyes seared with an unholy light. Shaking her, he uttered a low growl. “If only I didn’t love you so much or if you only loved me half as much.” He smiled, but it was a cruel mockery and there was nothing left of sanity in his expression.

  Drugs ruled him now, and nothing could restore the real man that lay hidden by the haze of cocaine. “You may not love me, but I will hold you any way that I can.” His strong fingers gripped her arms, ignoring her cries of pain. “Remember that, my Katherine. Legally, you are mine do with as I wish. And I will hold you until the day that death parts us.”

  She struggled helplessly, gagging as he poured yet even more wine down her throat spattering her gown while streams of it stained her skin. Suddenly, she stopped resisting, even when he tore her gown to brutally drag his hands over her skin in a mockery of a caress.

  As they fell into a stupor on their bed, his last conscious thought was a truth he could not deny. Despite the drugs, or perhaps because of them, his heart knew the truth.

  No matter how I try, no matter how I pretend otherwise, I will always love her. And she will never return
that depth of feeling towards me. Rolling away, clarity seemed to come to him in sweeping waves. This cannot last. We cannot go on like this forever. If it means setting her free – then she shall have that wish granted also. I cannot make her love me . . .

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Kat regained consciousness, she lay motionless, unable to comprehend where she was, or what she had become. Confused, the remains of the vast amounts of drugs she had consumed still raging in her system, she dragged herself from the bed. Every breath was an agony, her heart pounding as if it was about to explode from the smallest of exertions.

  Panic filled her bewildered mind.

  Nick . . . I’ve got to get to Nick. He’ll fix it . . . he’ll take care of me. I can’t go on like this . . . Ash and I will only continue to hurt each other. I can’t stay like this. Get to Nick . . . he’ll know what to do.

  Gasping hot mouthfuls of air that never seemed to reach her lungs, she staggered in her tattered gown from room to room towards the long, winding stairs.

  Just get down the stairs, call Nick. He’ll come . . . he’ll know what to do. It’s not good for Anton to live in a house like this . . . No . . . won’t come back … can’t come back . . . not even for Anton’s sake. Can’t live . . .

  Her body was slick with a cold, sick sweat and the high, reedy sound of her breathing crashed off the silent walls. Each agonizing step she took in the spinning darkness that surrounded her seemed monstrously, horribly loud; for a moment, she worried briefly that she’d awaken someone, but she found that she couldn’t remember who that someone might be.

  Kat struck the frame of the doorway in the upstairs hall as she wove her lurching way towards the stairs, stumbling back with a moaning cry as her entire right side exploded into a million fragments of deep, aching pain. Feeling her legs give out, she sat down hard on one of the plush Aubusson rugs that dotted the upstairs hallway.

  For some time, Kat could only sit there, her ankles throbbing beneath her, her hair a sopping red mass that obscured her face, too dizzy and confused to do more than stare at the dim line of the runner which led towards the top of the stairs.

  At last, panting heavily, Kat slapped her hands down on the marble flooring that lay to either side of the bunched rug and began to crawl. At first, her bruised body, aching from Ashton’s rough handling and the even rougher sexual abuse, which had come on its heels, refused to do even that.

  But slowly, perspiring with the effort, Kat dragged herself along to the first riser of the stairs. Twice, her hands, slippery with a sickly-smelling sweat, slid off the banister and slapped down to the floor again, but on the third try, Kat managed to rise to her feet.

  She hung on to the newel post for a moment, each harsh breath she took shattering into pieces in her overworked lungs, before swaying into the blank space which awaited her at the top of the stairs. Balancing her weight, she took one careful step at a time, feeling a giddy elation that threatened to overcome her.

  I can do this … Nick, I’m coming … Nick, please … Gotta get to Nick … Nick, please …

  Balancing her weight, she took one step forward, she swayed and grasped for the railing. Her groping hands caught at nothing but inky blackness before she tumbled forward into the empty space that awaited her.

  “Nick, Nick!” she screamed, certain that, somehow, her words could transcend even time and space and reach him. Certain that he would hear her.

  She struck the base of the stairwell with a sick, crunching thud, and then there was only silence.

  Kat’s frantic, final cries brought Ash out of his drug-induced sleep. For a moment, he frowned in irritation as he noticed that she was no longer beside him. “What have you done now, Katherine?” he growled, squinting blearily at their open bedroom door. Where is she? Where has she gone? Why is she carrying on that way?

  The sound of further screams and muffled voices brought him staggering from the bed. His head swimming, he pounded out, pausing when he reached the top of the curving stair. It was then that he saw her. A tiny, crumpled form, lying with her head twisted to one side, a hand reaching out to the telephone stand. No – no. Oh, dear God, what have I done? What have I done?

  “Katherine!”

  His agonized cry echoed through the house as he stumbled down the stairs to reach her. As he did, Megan stepped out of the darkness, slowly shaking her head.

  Staring at the older woman, his opalescent eyes burning with horror, Ash didn’t feel his legs give out from beneath him or hear the sharp slap of his flesh as he sat down hard on the stairs, descending into a haze of grief and unspeakable dread.

  * * * *

  The crunch of gravel grated on Nick’s nerves as his car slowly moved up the drive. It had only been a week since Kat’s death; he knew that he shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t ready to face all of this yet. He knew he wasn’t, knew it in his heart.

  Still, he had to go to the house once more.

  He noticed that very little had changed from the days when he and Kat had called the place home. But those days are over . . . over forever. Oh kid, what really happened to you?

  The official coroner’s report was beyond his reach, even after he’d offered a hefty bribe. The newspapers had called it a tragic accident, but somehow, Nick knew better. There was more to what happened that day, but he knew he would never know the whole story.

  He had wanted to see her, wanted to ask her the thousand questions that she had left unanswered, questions that she had left him as a private legacy. But he hadn’t attended her burial to get their answers.

  Oh hell, no.

  He wasn’t about to watch her planted in the ground next to the baby she never got to hold, just thrown in some fancy box and tossed in the ground to be covered up like . . . He stopped before useless grief and anger got ahold of him again.

  It was different here. The house had been their haven, so he had to come back. He had to say goodbye one last time before letting go of the haunting guilt that was slowly killing him.

  The car door closed behind him as quietly as it had opened, his long coat billowing as he walked up the drive towards the house, his hat cocked to one side. Reaching into a vase filled with flowers, he found the key in the same spot it had always been. It scraped the lock as it opened the door; the long curtains that dressed the windows on either side flowed back as he stepped into the charming parlor.

  What in the hell am I doing here? Kat’s not here. The house will be on the market soon and there’s nothing here but memories and they won’t change a damn thing.

  Looking up the stairs, he heard a familiar voice and for a moment, Nick wondered if there really were such things as ghosts. The low, sultry voice was unmistakable and drew him up as if he was a marionette pulled up by its strings. He followed the sound of what he … what everyone … thought of as Kat’s song. He trailed down the short hall to the bedroom he once shared with her.

  Standing out in the hall for what seemed like an eternity, Nick was uncertain if he … the fierce street rat who had fought all of his life to get where he was … had the guts to continue moving and go inside.

  Come on, you damn coward, you’re better than this. What do you think you’re going to find? Do you think that her ghost is in there waiting for you, just as she used to?

  Angrily, he tore open the door, his eyes not falling on some specter of Kat, but rather on the last person he wanted to see.

  Ashton’s hair fell wildly over his face, half-obscuring the sight of his odd green eyes as they flashed at the sound of Nick’s entrance. His mouth worked, but no sounds came out, although Nick doubted that he would have allowed the man to speak, even if he had been able.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” The words were out of Nick’s mouth before he could stop them. At the sight of the pistol in Ash’s hand, his eyes narrowed furiously.

  “If you’re gonna off yourself, do it someplace else. I don’t want to have to pay to clean up your mess.”

  “My mess, Nicholas?” H
is accent hissed as the words erupted, his eyes glazed with something more than drugs – something much worse.

  “She was happier here. In this paltry house … than she ever was in the mansion, I gave her. Not even my son, who now mourns her inconsolably, could make her as happy.” He erupted into wild laughter as he waved the gun. “But why?” He spat out the question, his anger growing with each word. “Why didn’t she reach out for me? I was the one by her side. There was a multitude of servants at her beck and call. Yet it was to you that she reached out; it was you that she called out in her last moments.” Ash’s voice rose and cracked on his last words while his eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t know that, did you?” Sharp, bitter laughter punctuated his words. “She was trying to reach you . . . . it was your name on her lips when she died.” His voice sank to a low murmur that Nick had to strain to hear. “I could never escape you, Nicholas.”

  His words dropped, but his gun didn’t. “I could never escape your shadow.”

  “My shadow?” Nick stared at the formerly elegant man before him, wondering if he had even realized what it took to let Kat walk away on that last night they’d shared together. “God damn you. I just about handed her to you on a silver platter.”

  “Yes, but you were still holding that platter.” Ash’s fingers shook as he shoved one hand through his hair, the pistol gleaming in the other. “I came here . . . hoping to silence her voice once and for all. To stop hearing that damned song that she sang for you, always for you. She asked me . . .” He stumbled over the words, trying to force back the memories of that last terrible night together. “She never knew what it was that she wanted, but I did. It was you . . . it was always you. I thought it would end if I took my life here, but now I’ve realized something. Do you know what it is?”