Deceptions (61 page)

in the lab that afternoon, some other mistake or, at last, his analytical mind putting everything together? What difference did it make? It was too late to make a difference.

She was Mghtened, but she also felt a strange sense of relief. It was out of her hands. She had not been able to tell him herself, but she had wanted him to Rnd out; she wanted to leave with the truth between them, not layer upon layer of lies...

The silence stretched like a fuse between them. They were hesitating, each reluctant to say the words that would alter their hves forever. At last Garth walked stiffly to a floor lamp and turned it on. 'No shadows. We've had enough shadows, haven't we, Sabrina?'

She did not recognize her name on his lips; it was a stranger's name.

No, not a stranger's. Her own. A stranger to Garth.

'Well?' he asked, and she heard in his voice the desperate thread of hope that perhaps he was wrong.

'No,' she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. 'You aren't wrong.'

'Sabrina.'

•Yes.'

His body spun about, as if flung by an explosion, and he strode the length of the room and back, not looking at her. 'What was it, a game? You wanted to play housewife for awhile and needed an instant family, scnne simpletons who would lie back and play dumb and let you walk all over them? Life was dull in London, so you told your rich friends to hold the fort while you dabbled in genteel poverty? Nothing like a little diversion, is there, to make the time pass more—'

'Garth, stop it, stop, please stop, it isn't true, none of it—'

'And the professor, the stufl^ professor, does tricks, sits up and begs for Lady Sabrina Longworth while she plays him f<^ a fool. The greatest fool of all time.'

'Please, that isn't—'

He kicked his suitcase aside. 'Now why would the Lady Sabrina do that? What did she want? Just to play housewife? Probably not. She wanted something more. What could that

be?' He perched on the arm of a sofa near Sabrina. 'Could it be, could it possibly be, that she wanted to show up her sister at being a housewife? Was that it? Lady LongwG»th, bored with her rich Mends, decided to show her sister there was nothing she couldn't do. She'd already beat her at everything else - money, success, freedom, lovers ... oh, my God...' His voice trailed away and he stared vacantly at his hands, opening and closing them as if reminding himself they had nothing to hold. 'Stephanie is dead. My wife is dead. You knew that. You stood beside me at her funeral. You let me bury my wife and never told me what I was doing. ' He stood over her, and she shrank back in her chair. 'You damn bitch, how could you stand there while they put that cofi&n in its grave and not tell us who was in it?*

'I told you! I tried to tell you! You wouldn't listen to me, I told you I was Sabrina—!'

He began to pace again. Tou did. Now that is true. How hard did you try? How many times? How soon after the news came of her death?'

As he heard himself say it, he flinched and his body froze, while a jumble of images tore through his mind: Penny and Cliff laughing, their upturned faces filled with trust; his family at dinner, listening as he talked about his work; Thanksgiving and a kitchen crowded with friends; a cemetery, a cofELn, Stephanie trembling within the curve of his arm... no, damn it, no-not Stephanie; Stephanie was dead; he had comforted Sabrina and watched the Vicar buiy his wife. 'My God, you took that telephone call, you flew with us to London, you spent two days before the ftineral weeping prettily and never told us, never told us who was dead.'

'That's enough! How dare you!' She leaped up and stood beside the window, her head high. 'Whatever else happened, how dare you imply I was not really mourning my sister? How dare you accuse me of taking her place to show her I was better than she was? I wasn't better, I never thought I was; we were the same, we were part of each other and I loved her more than anyone in the world. I loved her more than you did - at least I cared about her as a person and not just as a wife; I wanted her to have love and attention, and you gave her neither; you were so wrapped up in yourself you

barely looked at her for years, you didn't listen to her ... oh. Garth, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't mean that. I know it was more complicated than that, things are never so simple between two people. ... But I loved her so, and I miss her, and we never intended any of this, we thought it would just be a week—'

*We? What are you talking about?' Pacing the room, he touched each piece of furniture as if they were the only solid supports in his shifting world. 'Stephanie would never be a part of a filthy trick—'

'Of course she was; how else would we change places? I'm sorry, I didn't want you to know, I didn't want you hiut—*

'Hurt! Are you mad? After weeks of lying to me, playing me for a fool, you didn't want me hurt?'

'I know how it sounds.' She looked through the cold window at the lights of the city, distorted by the rain. 'But I told you, we never expected it to last more than a week. Stephanie felt she had to get away for a few days, to think about problems with Cliff, and with you, worries about money, about the job in Stamford—'

'Did she broadcast all our intimacies?'

'Of course not. She didn't even go into details. But I knew she needed to get away, and so did I; there were pressures in my life, too - problems I had to think about. And then we had the idea of spending a week in each other's lives—'

'Who had the idea?'

'I did,' she said swiftly. Too swiftly.

'You're lying. It was her idea, wasn't it?'

'I don't remember. What difference does it make?*

'Can't you for once in this whole stinking mess tell the simple truth?'

'It was Stephanie's idea. But I agreed.*

'To change places. And then?'

'We thought we could look at our lives from a different angle, understand ourselves better - where we were and where we wanted to go. And then we'd change back. No one would have known. I told Stephanie I wouldn't make love to you, and she said it happened so seldom—*

His face darkened, the lines deep and harsh about his mouth. 'But you did, didn't you? And my God, weren't you

good at it? That was quite an act you put on; I even brought us back here, like a damned romantic fool. ... You had a good time, didn't you, night after night, and I believed it all, fell for it—'

*It wasn't a lie. Don't you understand? Garth, please try to understand. I fell in love with you. I didn't want to; I tried not to, but I loved you for a long time before I even admitted it to myself. And then, when I realized it, I wanted to go back to London right away, but Stephanie wanted to go on a-but my wrist wasn't healed, and we were afraid if we changed then you'd discover—'

'Where did Stephanie want to go?'

'She wanted to come home to you. But imtil my wrist—'

'Where did she want to go before she came home to me and her children?'

'It doesn't matter.*

'Goddamn it, don't treat me like a child who can't be told the truth. That's what you've done from the beginning. It's a little late for that now. Where did she want to go?'

'On a cruise. Because I'd been on so many and she never had.'

'With whom?'

'A group of people.'

'In other words, she'd found someone else.'

'Garth, what difference does it make? She's dead. She loved you and the children, she wanted to come back and stay with you and make your marriage a good one, and then she was killed. Nothing else matters.'

'Nothing else matters. Isn't that convenient? Is that how you live with yourself? I'll tell you what matters: three goddamned months. Three months of lying to two children who loved you and trusted you. Three months of lying to friends who worried about you and helped you when you broke your damned wrist. Three months of lying while I explained away your behavior and believed you were trying to reshape our marriage. Three months of smiles and kisses and some remarkably passionate lovemaking. Three months of a deception - and you did it well, I must say, I congratulate you on a remarkable—'

'Stop, stop, don't you see, / wasn't always sure who I was,*

He was arrested in his pacing. His face took on a look of curiosity - the scientist hearing something new and intriguing - but he shoved it aside; he even made a movement with his hands, pushing it away and letting his anger return, as if she had not spoken. 'And how much longer were you going to play your little deception? Until the novelty wore off? Until the kids and I got on your nerves? Until you decided it was time to get back toyoiur glamorous Mends and the social whirl?'

'That's not fair,' she whispered. She turned back to the window and said aloud, 'It was over.' Her breath misted the glass, and she watched the circle of moisture shrink and disappear.

'What does that mean?' He swimg a chair around and straddled it. 'Turn around, damn it; look at me when you talk to me.'

The pain in his voice knifed into her, and Sabrina felt she was bleeding from his anger and grief. Her knees gave way; she moved shakily to the sofa. 'You knew I was flying to London from here. I bought my ticket this afternoon while you were giving your lecture. I was going to tell you tomorrow that I couldn't live with you anymore, that I didn't think we could make our marriage—'

'Not ours, lady!'

'I'm trying to tell you what I was going to say. That I didn't think we could make our marriage work and I was going to stay in London permanently.'

'After that remarkable faked loving, in bed and out, after tackling Rita McMillan, after such a good job of acting that you really succeeded in making us a family—' His voice caught and he had to stop for a minute. 'After all that,' he went on huskily, 'and carrying on as if we did indeed have a marriage, you were going to say it wouldn't work.'

Her hands were cold and stiff, and, crossing her arms, she tucked them into her armpits. 'I never faked anything, or acted with you and Penny and Cliff. I wasn't carrying on. I love all of you so much I hurt from it. But it was over.' Her voice grew stronger. 'After the ftmeral I came back to tell you

the truth, to end all the deceptions, and then I was going to tell my parents, and then go back to London. But you brought the children to the airport, and I couldn't tell you in front of them, and later, at home, I saw the letter, and I knew I had to stay and help you.*

'I didn't ask for your help. I didn't need it or want it.'

* Yes you did. You were worried, and it didn't matter what name you called me, you loved me and wanted me to stand with you. Garth, my love— *

'Don't call me thatV

She flinched as if he had struck her. 'No, of coiu:se, I have no right. But I'm tiying to tell you that by then the only deception was my name. Everything I felt for you was the truth. I love you, and we had a wonderful marriage— '

'We had no marriage at all! What kind of monster are you that you would profit from yoursistefs death?*

Sabrina broke. Sobs racked her body, and she curled into a ball on the couch, her face in her hands. Garth tensed in his chair, torn apart, wanting to hold her and comfort her, remembering her body, her laughter, the love in her eyes-and despising her, despising himself.

'Get up,' he said, his voice empty. 'And get out of here. I can't bear to look at you. Go back to your own kind; that's where you belong.'

'No. Not anymore.' She walked blindly to the bathroom, and Garth heard the splashing of water. In a few minutes she came back, her face washed, the deadly pallor of her skin looking like wax. Tendrils of damp hair curled about her forehead. 'Sabrina Longworth is dead. She died when the Lafitte went down. I'm someone different now; I don't even know who. I was going to London as Stephanie, so no one would ever know what had happened; that way, I knew the truth wouldn't accidentally get back to you and the children. I was going to keep it a secret, and I will, for the children, unless you decide to tell the truth. But that would be your decision. Because, either way, I've become someone else.*

She put on the green suede blazer Garth had bought her in San Francisco and pulled on her coat. 'I want you to know that I love Penny and Cliff. They are so dear to me, their love

meant so much to me ... I never had children, and I didn't pretend with them; it was so wonderful to love them and know they loved me—* She bent her head and waited until she could control her voice. * And I love you, my darling, with all my heart, more than I can ever tell you. I know you don't want to hear it, but you are my life and all my dreams, all I ever hoped I might someday find, and I wanted to makeyou happy. It was all wrong, I know; I did a terrible thing toyou, and I knew from the beginning it could never end well, but before I left I wanted to be able to help you one last time, to do what I could^-*

Garth's head was averted, his forehead resting on his hand. 'Get out,' he said, and he was crying.

Sabrina reached for her suitcase, then straightened. Most of what it contained was Stephanie's. She left it on the floor beside Garth's, picked up her shoulder bag and opened the door. She stood there a moment, looking at the back of his head, the thick dark hair mixed with gray, seeing in her mind the lock that fell over his forehead when he leaned forward that way.... My love, my love, forgive me.

Garth thought she was gone and turned to find her watching him. *Goddamn it, get out!' he cried through his tears. 'And let me mourn my wife!'

Swiftly she left and puUed the door shut behind her, leaning against it, her heart pounding. It was over. She touched the door with her fingertips. *I love you.' she said softly, and turned to walk down the flowered carpet to the elevator. She forced herself to stand straight, her head high, as she left the hotel in the rain.

Chapter 21

Mrs Thirkell was just returning from the market, maneuvering her dripping umbrella and damp packages through the front door, when the cab from the airport pulled up. 'Mrs Andersen!' she cried, and stood in the pouring rain, holding the door while Sabrina paid the driver and ran into the

house. 'Come in, come in, oh» I am so glad to see you! And won't Miss de Martel be pleased! Let me take your coat and hat; there's a fire laid in the drawing room and one in my lady's ... in your bedroom, and I'll bring you tea. Where would you like to go first?'