Deceptions (57 page)

'Yes, Nicholas, I know. Olivia has a way of making outrageous statements in the most ordinary way.*

'Goodness, did Sabrina really tell you such small details about us?'

'Often.' I can stop this pretending, she thought, as soon as I get back and tell them the truth. She and Nicholas talked about her December decorating commission, and she gave instructions on two auctions and the sale to Bettina Stargrave. Nicholas listened to her now; he no longer treated her like an ignorant provincial who could be disdainfully brushed aside. Finally she hung up, but before she could leave the breakfast room a new rtiought came to her and she sat down again. As soon as I get back and tell them the truth. But how can I do that? How can I tell my parents or anyone else that I 'm Sabrina if I don't want Garth to know? If anyone knows, even one person, eventually it would get back to him.

She got up and began to walk aroimd the kitchen, arms crossed, nervously running her hands up to her shoulders and down again.

/ can't tell Garth the truth.

I can't tell anyone.

But if I doa't» I'll be Stephanie Andersen for the rest of my life.

Sabrina Longworth will be dead.

As, of course she is. We were all at her funeral.

Oh, Stephanie, look what we've done.

Chapter 19

Snow fell on the morning of November 20, a light dusting like a whispered warning of what lay ahead. The sky was steel gray, hanging low over the yard, over black tree limbs furred with snow and bushes as delicate as spider webs. Garth turned up the furnace, Sabrina helped locate missing gloves and Penny and Cliff took careful steps on their way down the front walk, admiring their footprints.

When they were gone, Sabrina stood at the front window, finishing her coffee. The yard was a tapestry of grass and chrysanthemiun stalks jutting through the snow; the white street was striped with dark automobile tracks. Powdery snow clung to roofs, chimneys and windowsills. A light wind caught the branches of trees, and now and then, with a soft sigh, snow fell in a spray to the groimd.

Winter. The seasons were changing, and they were no nearer to clearing Garth's name. She had helped by standing by him and being seen with him in a social whirl that was now bringing invitations in each day's mail to rival the number she used to receive in London: but they hadn't yet begun talking to the students on his list. They'd been too happy. Loving, living together with no holding back for the first time since she returned firom China. Trusting, joyful, alive.

Because my sister is dead.

She turned from the white world outside and walked back through the house to the kitchen. There it was again. She would let the truth slip to the back of her mind and begin to think, in small snatches, of perhaps finding a way to stay with Garth, as if somehow the truth could become part of a past that had nothing to do with the present.

Deceiving herself. She had promised never to do that. Because I will not profit from my sister^s death.

She could not change that even if she could forget it for small bits of time. Someday, when we least expect it, it would catch up with us. And destroy us.

The telephone rang; Garth calling from the university. 'My calendar reminds me I have a meeting in New York in December. Can you arrange with Madeline to get away? I want you with me.'

*When in December?'

The third. For three days. I'll ask Vivian if Peimy and Cliff can stay at her house. We're going to have to board her kids for six months to make up for all the times she's done it for us. You will come?'

*Yes, I'd love to.' How strange that he should call, just now, when she was reminding herself why she had to leave. 'Would you mind if I went on to London from there to take care of some business?'

There was a barely perceptible pause. 'Of course not. Would you want me to come along?'

'No. I want to go by myself.' Because I won't be coming back,

'If you want to go alone, of course you should. How long will your business take?'

*I don't know. But I'll probably stay on for a bit, once I'm there, in the house ...'

This time the pause was longer. Garth had almost convinced himself she no longer thought about living in her sister's house, following in her sister's footsteps. But now, suddenly, she was talking again of leaving them to playact in another life. It seemed when things were best between them she thought of running away. He considered reminding her that she had promised to stay at least until the letter-writer was found. But he would not whine or beg. 'We can talk about it later,' he said. 'Butyou will arrange to come with me to New York?'

'Yes. And I'm having lunch with Vivian, so I'll talk to her about Penny and Cliff.'

'You look so somber,' said Vivian, joining her in the

restaurant at noon. 'like our premature winter. Is there anything I can do?'

Talk about cheerful subjects. Your tenure, for one. Garth says the committee vote was unanimous. Have I thoroughly congratulated you?'

'You should thoroughly congratulate your husband. He outwitted our former dean, outmaneuvered a timid committee and turned a century-old policy on its head. And that was just on campus. He also made it possible for the Goodman family to stay put, since I don't have to look for another job. That's called security. First time I ever had it. Did he tell you I have dubbed him Saint Garth?' ♦

Sabrina shook her head, laughing. 'No doubt modesty prevented him.*

'He is modest, isn't that amazing? Anyone with his reputation and popularity has a right to take a bow now and then. His students are so proud of him, you know. Oh, let me tell you what one of them said - a girl in my genetics class. We were talking about Garth's work, and she said - here, let me write it, it's more amusing that way.' On a paper napkin, Vivian wrote a single word and showed it to Sabrina.

'Gene-ius,* Sabrina read, and reread it. Bingo.

'Clever,' she said casually. 'What's her name?'

'Rita McMillan. And clever describes her. Not a good student, not at all interested in learning, but clever. The kind who finds shortcuts to get where she wants to go. Wherever that is. Now, tell me, does your somber face have anything to do with an anonymous letter about Garth?'

Sabrina was caught off guard. 'Have you seen it?'

'I wasn't even sure it existed until this minute. There are rumors all through the department. And some pasiy-faced fellow is going around asking determinedly rude questions, which all of us are determinedly not answering. No one believes Garth is involved in that mess; he's not only too ethical, he's too smart. Tell me what's happening.'

Sabrina described Jenks's visit and the way Garth got rid of him. They laughed together and went on to talk about their jobs and the books they were reading.

'I'm due back at work,' Sabrina said at last. 'Oh, I almost forgot. Can we prevail on you once more to take Penny and

Cliff, for three days this time? Garth has a meeting in New York on December third, and he wants me to go along/

'Of course I'll take them; they're wonderful to have around, and our kids love them. I think Barbara's secret wish is to be Penny Andersen. When will you leave?'

'I'll let you know. You're a good friend, Vivian.'

'I have good friends. I'm off to class. See you soon/

'Vivian?'

'Yes?'

'Is that the class with Rita McMillan?'

'Yes; why?'

'Just curious. I enjoyed eur lunch.'

Sabrina called Madeline and told her she would not be in for the rest of the day. Too bad,' Madeline said. 'You'd enjoy watching Linda - she's been following me around, examin-ing different woods and carvings and memorizing shapes and construction techniques. She's a quick learner, and she's beginning to believe in herself. That was your good deed, bringing her here.' Yes, Sabrina agreed silently. And it will go on long after I've left.

She debated stopping at Garth's office to tell him about Rita, but she knew he would want to talk to the girl himself. / want to handle it, she thought. This is what I stayed here for - to do this for him, and for Stephanie.

Oucside Vivian's classroom, at the end of the hour, Sabrina stopped a boy and asked him to point out Rita McMillan. When he did, she went directly to her.

'Stephanie Andersen.' She held out her hand. The girl blonde and lithe, with pale blue eyes, reluctantly touched Sabrina's hand with limp fingers. 'I want to talk to you. The faculty club is across the street; we can be private there.'

'I don't think—'

This is very important.' Smoothly, she steered Rita down the hall.' I understand you studied genetics with my husband last year/

She felt the quick alarm that brought a flush to the girl's face. Neither of them spoke again until they were in the faculty club. Sabrina had been there before with Garth, and the receptionist leaped up to greet her.

'Mrs. Andersen! How nice to see you again.' After a brief

glance at Rita, he turned to Sabrina with admiring eyes. 'Coffee hour begins in the living room in a few minutes; would you care for fruit or dessert?'

'Would it be possible to have tea?'

Tea! Of course. There is no one upstairs now/ he added. 'You'll have it to yourself.'

Sabrina smiled at him, offering no clues to satisfy his curiosity. Upstairs, she led Rita to a comer of the long, high-ceilinged room, crowded with desks, couches and chairs. They sat in two wing chairs, almost touching. Sabrina, folding her hands in her lap, gazed steadily at Rita, taking her measure, noring the puzzlement in her round eyes. Not used to being ignored by men, she thought, while an older woman is admired. And how old I must seem to her, at thirty-two! It would be amusing if she hadn't tried to destroy Garth.

The girl was beginning to fidget under Sabrinai's steady gaze. 'Well?' she demanded truculently. 'I'm here; what do you want?'

'I thought it would be a good idea for us to get acquainted. You're about to graduate, aren't you?'

•Yes,' Rita said, perched on the edge of the chair.

'But weren't you supposed to graduate last June?*

'I... changed my plans.'

'And what will you do after graduation?'

'I don't know. Travel, maybe get a job.'

•What kind of job?'

*I don't know. Something exciting. Designing clothes, maybe. Interior decorating. So.nething like that.'

'And become famous?'

'Sure; why not?*

'Your tea, Mrs Andersen.' The headwaiter from the dining room appeared with a rolling cart. Every afternoon the faculty club served rolls and coffee, but for Sabrina they had worked a miracle. 'Sliced jelly roll,' said the waiter, lifting a napkin with a flourish. 'Torte. Cookies. If there is something else you would prefer—'

'This is perfect.' Sabrina said, smiling at him. 'And very special. Thank you.'

He returned the smile, lingering a moment before crossing

the room to set up the coffee urn. Nat Goldner, walking through from the library on the third floor, stared in amazement at the cart as he greeted Sabrina with a kiss. *Did you mesmerize the kitchen staff?'

*The magic word seems to be tea.'

'Not if I'm the one who says it. May I join you?'

'Not this time, Nat. Will you forgive us? This is a private talk.'

'Another time, then, if you promise to work your magic for me. And I gather we'll see you at Thanksgiving. Your house or ours?'

'I've convinced Dolores to make it ours.'

'I'll bring the wine.' He nodded to Rita and kissed Sabrina's cheek. 'See you soon.'

Rita had slid back in her chair, watching with undisguised envy. 'You sure wind them around your finger.'

*I treat people with respect,' Sabrina said gently, handing her a cup of tea. 'So,' she went on thoughtfully, 'you want to become famous. You'll make a lot of friends if you do.'

Rita nodded with satisfaction. 'I know.'

'But probably a few enemies, too. It seems that the more people you know, the more chances you have of making someone angry or jealous - without even realizing you're doing it.'

'I don't know anything about that.*

'Of course, I'm sure you'll have many more friends than enemies, but you have to be prepared for both. Because when you're famous, you never know how people feel about you, or how they talk about you to others. You're prepared for that, of course.'

'What?'

'For the fact that people might say things about you that aren't true.* Sabrina was relaxed now, her anger controlled. 'When that happens, we call it a rumor. You know about rumors; they're found everywhere. Did you ever wonder why they start? Sometimes for excitement or on a dare, sometimes for someone to feel important, sometimes just to see how people react, but probably most often for revenge. More tea?*

RiU's blue eyes were fixed on her. 'No.'

She filled her own cup. 'Of course, anyone interested in a career like dress designing or interior decoration would never take a chance of starting a rumor. After all, you know from your history classes that rumors have started wars and panics and revolutions ... who could ever trust someone who had started even one rumor? A dangerous person, careless with a whisper or a little joke - or an anonymous letter.*

The pale tyes blinked. *Are you trying to scare me?'

'Why would I do that?'

'Because you don't like me.'

'I don't know you; I neither like nor dislike you.' Sabrina reached over to fill Rita's cup and met her wary eyes through the tendrils of steam rising between them. 'But it is true that our interests and loyalties have clashed.'

Rita looked uncomprehending.

'Your interest is what pleases you; your loyalty is to yourself. Ordinarily that would not concern me, since I find self-centered people boring and easily forgettable. But when your self-interest threatens my husband, in whom I have a strong interest and loyalty, that puts us on a collision course.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' The pouting lips had turned sullen. 'You're crazy.'

'That was a mistake,' Sabrina said softly. 'You should not be antagonizing me, but trying to gain my sympathy.'

'I don't care about your—'