Casteel 05 Web of Dreams (34 page)

"It's been an ordeal, you know," she said twisting and turning herself so she could catch her image in my vanity mirror, "losing the weight and getting the imperfections out of my body. But it's over, and I've been successful. Everyone thinks so. What do you think?" She turned to me with an expectant look on her face, ready to be lavished with compliments. But there would be no compliments today . . . only bitter truths. I wasn't going to allow Momma to escape the truth any longer!
"Momma, I've gone through a far more terrible ordeal right here at Farthy. Tony came into my room twice and . . . forced himself on me," I cried. "He . . . he . . ."
Why was she letting me go on? Did I have to tell her every last, ugly detail? I looked at her with tears in my eyes, expecting her to rush to my side, wrapping her arms around me and consoling me with warm hugs and kisses . . promising to make everything better . . . safe . as it had once been.
She came to my side with an amazing burst of speed. At last I had gotten her attention! At last she would listen to me! But then I noticed her eyes-- always her eyes! Already they were narrowing to dangerous slits, glittering with coldness. Oh, how I was frightened! My tears immediately stopped and my stomach grew cold, my butterflies fluttering with full force. She didn't believe me! Momma's eyes always revealed her true emotions.
"What?" she incredulously demanded. "What kind of ridiculous story is this? Forced himself on you? Really, Leigh. I've heard that teenagers fantasize, but isn't this a bit much?"
I shook my head furiously. "No, Momma. This isn't a fantasy. It happened. It really did." Now that I had her full attention I couldn't lose it. I had to make her listen! "Let me tell you all of
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it; please. Please, listen."
"I'm listening," she said, her face contorting with annoyance.
"The night before last, I followed him through the maze to the cottage."
"Followed him? Why?"
"I was curious as to why he was still working there, why he had kept it as an art studio."
"You shouldn't be following him about like that, Leigh," she said, convicting me of an
indiscretion without hearing the rest of it. I ignored her and continued.
"When I got to the cottage, I peered in a window and I saw that he had painted another picture of me . . . of the two of us, only he had painted himself in it. . . naked!"
"Really?" she said.
"A moment later, he appeared, naked." "Was he alone?" she asked quickly.
"Yes, but. . . anyway, I got frightened and ran home.
After I went to bed, he came in here . . . naked, and he attacked me, forcing me to make love to him."
She stared at me, a skeptical look still on her face.
"He did! And then, last night . . . I went to your bedroom to lock myself safely within and he came to me again. He had a key. At first he thought I was you, but it didn't matter. He forced himself on me again. Oh Momma, it was horrible. I couldn't fight him." Her expression didn't change. "Momma, don't you hear what I'm saying?"
She lowered her shoulders and shook her head.
"I was going to speak to you about all this after I had settled in," she said. "I had hoped it could wait until I regained some of my strength."
"Speak to me about all this? But how did you know?"
"Tony picked me up at the airport, Leigh. He told me how you have been behaving. He didn't tell me about your following him to the cottage, but he told me you asked him to come into your suite and when he arrived, he found you stark naked on your bed."
"What? He's lying!"
"He said you took hold of his wrist and pulled him onto you, begging him to make love to you, but he broke free, bawled you out and left."
"Momma, listen to me . . ."
"He also told me about your going to my suite to pretend you were me so he would not refuse you a second time. He said you had even put on one of my nightgowns and sprayed yourself with my perfume." She looked at me with triumph, sniffing the air. "That is my nightgown, isn't it? And you are wearing my perfume."
"Oh, Momma, I did all this just to be close to you. I was so afraid."
When she looked at me again I could see her disbelief. She didn't even attempt to hide it! In that moment a surge of hatred flowed through my blood. Never before had I felt this way toward Momma. Never! But why shouldn't I? She didn't believe me! She was choosing to disregard her own daughter's words over those of a man she hadn't even been married to for a year! All she cared about was Tony . . disgustingly wealthy Tony . . . her young and horrible husband.
I looked at Momma with cynical eyes. Oh yes, I could see it all. Momma wasn't about to jeopardize her position as mistress of Farthinggale Manor. So what if she had gotten Tony to sign a settlement agreement, entitling her to half his fortune? Without his name she was nothing . . NOTHING! If she chose to believe me and divorced Tony, she would lose the respectability and privilege she had as Mrs. Tony Tatterton. Invitations would no longer arrive. Boston society would close its doors in her face and she'd be reduced to being a poor girl from Texas, allowed only to look in from the outside. As much as I wanted Momma to be happy, because deep down part of me still loved her . . because I knew she needed to have a man in her life to give her a purpose . . . I couldn't allow Tony to get away with what he had done to me. I couldn't. I tried one last time.
"Momma, I'm telling you the truth."
"Really, Leigh. Your story is so outrageous. What do you expect me to believe?"
"I expect you to believe me, not him! He's a madman."
"He said you tried everything to get him to make love to you and when nothing worked, you . . . you betrayed me. You told him about my age," she concluded. She looked more hurt than angry.
"Momma, I . . no, I said that because . . ."
"How could you? There was no one I trusted more than my own daughter."
"Momma, he already knew. He didn't care!"
She shook her head.
"Really, Leigh, you must get hold of yourself. I was a teenage girl; I know what you're going through. Your body is developing quickly. Overnight, you have become a woman with a woman's needs and here is handsome Tony Tatterton, the man you modeled in the nude for. It's understandable, and I'm partly to blame for not seeing how mature you've become, but you have to learn to control your fantasies and drives.
"You see how well I can do it. Remember what I told you about a man wearing you out and remember what I told you about being a good girl.
"I'm sure that after a day or so, everyone will get along with everyone just as before. Tony doesn't harbor any ill feelings toward you. He is very understanding when it comes to these things. That's why our marriage is going along so well."
She smiled.
"Oh, I can't wait to soak in a hot bubble bath," she said.
"Momma, you must believe me . . . please . . ."
"Now, Leigh," she snapped. "I insist you stop talking about this. One thing leads to another. Next thing you know, the servants will be talking about it, spreading horrible rumors."
"They're not rumors. I'm not fantasizing or lying!"
"Leigh," she said, her eyes small, "do you expect me to believe that my husband would turn to my daughter, a girl just becoming a woman, when he has me? Really," she declared. "Now get hold of yourself. I want you to bathe and dress and come down to dinner."
"But Momma . . ."
"I absolutely insist. Besides," she added smiling, "I have so many nice things I bought in Europe to show you and I want to tell you all about the spa and the people I met." Her smile evaporated.
"I was very upset when Tony told me you revealed my true age to him, Leigh, but I can forgive you because it doesn't seem to matter to him as much as I feared it would. He really is a wonderful man. But I won't be able to forgive you if you keep up this . . this performance. So please, get yourself together and be down for dinner." She relaxed again and sighed deeply.
"Oh, there's nothing like coming home after a long trip," she sang and left me.
Home? Had she just referred to Farthinggale Manor as home? Hell was the better word! I stared at the spot Momma had just vacated. What had just happened? Was I dreaming? Was I trapped in another nightmare? Momma REFUSED to believe me. Instead of helping me she stayed behind the glass walls of her vain and shallow world, obsessed only with herself. HERSELF! Gone was the Momma I had always loved and adored, replaced by the stranger from my nightmare. I turned to my portrait doll.
"Oh Angel," I cried. "If only you could talk. You're the only witness."
But somehow, I thought, even if Angel could talk, Momma would find a way not to believe.
She either didn't want to or didn't care. For me, it was one and the same.

I got up and dressed to go down to dinner. Even though I had eaten very little all day, I had no appetite, but I stupidly hoped that somehow I might still get Momma to see the truth. All she had to do was take a good look at my face, I thought. I had little enthusiasm when it came to brushing out my hair. It reflected my inner feelings, looking dull, drab and listless. I saw the fatigue and the emotional exhaustion in my eyes. With drooping shoulders, I left my suite and descended the stairway.

To my surprise Momma was already at the table with Tony. I heard their laughter as I approached the dining room. As soon as I entered, they stopped and turned my way. Tony glanced at my mother and then smiled at me.

"Leigh, feeling better?" he asked, turning his face into a mask of fatherly concern.
I said nothing. I went to my seat and spread my napkin on my lap, feeling the weight of their eyes on me.
"I was just telling Tony," my mother began, her voice light and cheery, "about the Walston twins. You remember them, I'm sure. I've mentioned them before. They're from Boston and their daddy has this estate home in Hyannis as well. One of their legs equals my entire body. The Walrus twins is what all of us at the spa called them. To see them in the steam room when they sat together!" she said throwing her head back and laughing. "I mean, every woman there felt twenty pounds thinner the moment she looked at them.
"Anyway, the funniest part of all this is when it came time for them to leave, it was discovered that they had both gained five pounds apiece instead of losing. Seems they were smuggling in cakes and fudge from the nearby village. Can you imagine spending all that money and gaining five pounds?"
Tony shook his head and laughed along with her. I couldn't believe how happy they seemed. Nothing I had said to Momma had taken hold. The rest of the evening continued this way. Momma told story after story about the rich women at the spa. Tony was a perfect audience, laughing at anything she said that was meant to be funny, growing serious when she grew serious.
After she finished criticizing her fellow dieters, Tony went on and on about the success of the portrait dolls. Every once in a while, my mother would turn to me and widen her eyes to express her amazement and try to force an expression of appreciation out of me. But I refused to give in to her wishes. This once my wants and needs just
had
to come first. I knew what had happened to me was important, shattering. It broke my heart that she could shut out my pain so easily.
"I'd like you to see some of the things I bought in Switzerland, Leigh," my mother declared after coffee was served. "They're in the blue room. I brought an expensive gift home for you, too."
She rose to tell Curtis something as she left the dining room, and Tony and I got up as well. On the way out behind her, Tony took hold of my right arm at the elbow to keep me back so she couldn't hear what he had to say.
"I just want you to know, Leigh, that I don't harbor any resentment toward you for what you told Jillian. She and I understand how it is with a girl who is literally exploding into womanhood." He smiled, his blue eyes soft and forgiving. His casual tone of voice was maddening. For a moment a lump came to choke my throat. I swallowed hard and bit down even harder on my tongue.
"Coming, Leigh?" Mamma called.
"Yes," I said and then I spun on him with fury. I allowed my eyes to meet his, sending fire and hate. A flame of anger shot through my chest. With ice in my words, I spoke. "You might have fooled her for the moment, but in time, she will believe me, for someone like you can't hide what he really is forever."
He shook his head with a look of pity on his face that only infuriated me more.
"I had hoped now that Ethan has returned, you would have a different attitude, but I can see everything they tell me about bringing up teenage girls nowadays is true. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I will always be understanding and sympathetic and never ridicule you."
"You're despicable," I said behind clenched teeth. He continued to smile. Then he tried to take my arm to walk out with me, but I pulled away. "Don't touch me. Don't you ever try to touch me again."
He nodded and gestured toward the entryway. I hurriedly joined my mother. Tony didn't follow us into the blue room where Momma had piled her purchases. I sat on the settee and watched as she unpacked sweaters, blouses, skirts and leather belts. She had bought works of art, small sculptures, jewelry boxes and ivory hand Mirrors. She gave me an elegant gold watch with diamonds. Every item had a story that went along with it, how she discovered it, what the store was like, what the other women thought when she bought it. She bragged about how the others followed her about, doing whatever she did, buying whatever she bought.
"I found myself suddenly thrown into the role of guide," she boasted. "Can you imagine? All these terribly wealthy and well-traveled women depending on me to tell them what was chic, what was real art, and what was a good buy. Really, I should have taken a commission." She paused and looked at me as if for the first time.
"You do look a little tired, Leigh. You should get some sun tomorrow. You shouldn't lock yourself up in your suite like that. It's not healthy. The air could be stifling and stale and that kind of air can do unbelievable damage to your skin. I had long discussions with experts at this wonderful spa," she said quickly before I could interrupt. "Did you ever notice that Swiss women have such perfect
complexions? Some of it is a result of their diets," she continued as if I were a student in a class, "and some of it is because of their exercises, their fresh air, their steam baths and mudpacks.
"I've already asked Tony to have a steam room built in my bathroom," she concluded.
"Momma, I look this way because I went through a terrible experience. If you will just listen to me, really listen .....
"You're not going to start all that again, are you, Leigh?" she said, pursing her lips in a pout. "I really can't stand it. I don't know how I'm still going on the little sleep and rest I've had since I left Switzerland. I've forced myself to be full of energy just for you and for Tony, but I'm tired now and I'm going up."
"Momma."
"Good night Leigh. I hope you enjoy your watch." She left me sitting there, surrounded by all the opened boxes and packages. I stuffed my new watch back into its box. Who cared about it? What did precious and expensive things mean now? Did she think gold, silver and diamonds made everything right, no matter what?
I felt so frustrated, resembling a poor dumb person unable to get her thoughts and feelings out, her screams trapped in her own ears, all the doorways leading from her mind shut tight. I might as well be invisible, I thought. Momma won't look at me, won't listen to me, won't see the truth. She was blinded by the glitter and the glamour of her own life.
Afterward, it was always the same whenever I tried to bring up the terrible thing that had happened to me. She wouldn't listen, or she would skip right on to another topic. Finally, I gave up. Most of the time, I went off alone to walk the beach or go horseback riding. The ocean air, the sound of the sea and the wonderfully hypnotic and meditative sight of the waves coming in and going out soothed and calmed me. I read, wrote in this diary, listened to my records and spent time with Troy.
Jennifer called a number of times, but I didn't call her, nor did I call Joshua. He had called late in June to tell me he was going on a vacation with his family anyway and would be away for nearly a month. He had hoped to see me before he left, but I just couldn't see him. If he looked in my face he would see all that had happened, and hate me for it, I just knew it. I found solace and comfort in my solitude. Nature proved to be the mother and the father I no longer had, soothing my bruises, stroking me with her warm breezes and filling me with a sense of security I couldn't get back in the big house with its dark corners and giant rooms.
Whenever I went for walks with Troy, I would follow behind him and listen to his childish babble, not really hearing his words so much as his innocent, happy voice. Those little rhythms were melodious and delightful. I loved to sit with him and look out at the ocean and answer his questions while I stroked his soft hair. In a way I wanted to be back in his world, a child's world, the world of dolls and toys and candy canes, a world without hard truths and ugly realities. All the bogeymen could be chased away with a warm embrace, a soft, reassuring kiss, a promise for tomorrow.
Momma submerged herself in her social life again, attending her afternoon bridge parties, going to shows and shopping in Boston, hosting dinners for wealthy acquaintances and attending their dinners. She tried on a number of occasions to get me to join her and Tony when they went to a dinner at some rich estate. She claimed she wanted me to meet the sons and daughters of the upper classes, but declined every time.
Tony kept his distance, barely talking to me, even avoiding looking at me, especially when he was with my mother. If I were alone and I saw him in the house, I would go the other way. Thankfully, the house was so large, it was possible to get lost in it whenever I wanted to. And I could wander the grounds, stay at the outdoor pool, go for a horseback ride and stay away all afternoon, or take one of my beach walks and avoid any contact with him.
Then, at the start of the third week in July, he announced he was going to Europe for a quick business trip. Momma gave him a list of boutiques to go to and things to get her. He remarked that he would look for something special for me, too, but I didn't reply.
A few days later, Daddy called from Houston, Texas. He was on his way back to the East Coast and wanted to make arrangements to see me. I had been writing him continually, trying to get him to call or write me back, but he hadn't responded until now.
"I was on the move a great deal, Princess," he explained. "All your letters are probably one day behind me. Is everything all right?"
"No, Daddy. I've got to see you," I said desperately. He was silent on the other end for a moment.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I can't talk about it over the phone, but I need to talk to you. I really do," I emphasized.
"Your mother can't help you?"
"She . . . no. . .she can't help me," I replied. My voice was dry, unemotional, deadly honest.
"All right. I'll call you as soon as I get to Boston and we'll all meet for dinner. I'm due there the day after tomorrow."
"Daddy, try to meet me by yourself," I pleaded.
"Leigh, I'm married now and Mildred is a part of everything! do. She likes it that way. She gets very upset if I exclude her from anything, and she wants so much to get to know you. Won't you forget that we married so quickly and give her a chance?" he begged.
"It's not that this time, Daddy. I . . . have some very personal things to discuss."
"Mildred is part of my personal life, Leigh," he insisted. Once again, Daddy was clay in the hands of a woman, I thought.
"All right, Daddy. Call me as soon as you arrive," I said. I had no choice and no one else to turn to.
"Right. See you soon, Princess," he said and hung up.
Knowing that Daddy was coming the day after tomorrow buoyed me. Surely, after I told him what had happened to me, he would demand that I remain with him. He wouldn't even permit me to return to Farthy that night and he would tell my mother that he was willing to go to any lengths now to win me away from her legally. I didn't know how much better my life would be, but at least I would be away from Farthy and Tony.
I was cheerful and energetic for the first time since Tony had forced himself on me. I did laps in the pool, went for a fast horseback ride, and took Troy for a long beach walk, collecting seashells. I had the best appetite I had had in weeks, asking for seconds and eating dessert. Momma noticed a change, but I didn't tell her about Daddy's impending arrival.
I woke up early on the morning of Daddy's arrival in Boston. I thought I would have Miles drive me into the city the moment Daddy phoned. I had already dressed, eaten breakfast, and taken a short walk with Troy by the time lr y mother came down. In the afternoon, she was having some friends over for bridge and I knew that meant she would spend hours preparing herself.
Just before lunch, Curtis called me to the phone. I was standing outside with Troy, watching the gardeners work. "Is it my father?" I asked eagerly.
"He simply said he was calling for Mr. VanVoreen," Curtis replied in his usual nondescript manner of speaking. I hurried into the house and to the nearest phone, which was in the living room.
"Hello," I said. "This is Leigh."
"Miss VanVoreen. My name is Chester Goodman. I work for your father and he has asked me to call you."
"Yes?" I said, impatient with the formalities. I didn't care what his name was. All I wanted were the details.
"He sends his regrets. He won't be able to see you today."
What?" I felt the color drain from my face. My chest felt so cold and empty, I was sure my heart herd stopped beating. "Why? I must see him. I must!" I insisted. "Please, tell him, put him on the phone. I demand to speak with him."
"I'm sorry, Miss VanVoreen, but he is no longer here. One of the VanVoreen ocean liners has broken down in the Pacific. There is a rescue operation on the way and he had to fly out to the coast on an
emergency."
"Oh, no!
"He said to tell you he will phone you the first chance he gets. Miss VanVoreen?"
I didn't reply. I cradled the receiver and sat back in the chair by the telephone, dazed. Didn't Daddy hear the desperation in my voice? Why couldn't he see to it that he met with rue first somehow, or why hadn't he simply taken me along with him? We could have talked on the airplane. Why was his business more important than his daughter?
A frightening thought suddenly occurred to me. Maybe he knew; maybe he had always known that I wasn't really his daughter and maybe that was why he didn't put me at the top of his list of most important things.
I buried my face in my hands.
"Leigh?"
It was Troy, standing in the doorway.
"Are you coming back out now?"
I looked up at him,
"No," I said. "I'm not feeling well. I've got to go up and lie down awhile."
His face drooped. "Will you come out later?"
"I don't know, Troy. I'm sorry," I said and walked to the stairway. I didn't look back. I couldn't stand the sight of any more sadness.
It seemed to take me forever to go up the stairway. I was walking in such a stupor, I didn't realize I had reached my suite. Suddenly, I found myself standing in the bedroom. I went to my bed and lay back on the pillow. My head had begun to ache and my stomach felt funny. It felt as if there were a dozen butterflies in it, all trying to find a way out. Their wings tickled as they flapped about frantically.
I felt just as trapped. How could I ever feel any worse than this? I thought.
But I did, and as soon as the next morning. I hadn't gotten my eyes open a few seconds before it came over me: this wave of nausea. Wave after wave came, building and building until I had to get up quickly and run to the bathroom to vomit. I felt so sick I thought I was going to die. Finally, it subsided and I made my way back to bed to rest until I felt strong enough to get up again.