Voice of the Heart (107 page)

Later scrutinizing its inhabitants, he himself had come to realize that Hollywood was actually a state of mind. Had Katharine not understood that? Had she been deluded into thinking it was the real world and not sham? Had she been affected by the Hollywood syndrome? Nick ran the years through the computer in his head. In the beginning she had been under contract to Bellissima Productions, and Victor had protected her. She had therefore been insulated, and also isolated from the monsters that roamed the jungles of Hollywood and Vine and Sunset Boulevard; and Beau Stanton, as her husband, had flung an impenetrable fence around her, a fence called the Hollywood Establishment, that highest echelon of movie society which was reserved, snobbish and cliquish. And eminently proper. Between 1959
and 1962 Katharine had been constantly abroad, either on location or with Francesca in England and Europe. On her return to Bel-Air she had always kept herself aloof, apart from the riff-raff, whether by calculation or happenstance he was not sure. Most likely by choice, now that he thought about it. There was a conservative streak in Katharine’s nature, Nick was well aware, and this had been apparent in her mode of living during her years in California. He had noted it many times. She had led a relatively quiet existence, kept a low profile, resisted the local pressures, elected not to fly high and fast. And she had never recklessly spent money for the sake of spending it. In a town where flash was the norm she had been understated to the point of drabness, at least by Rodeo Drive standards. She
had
bought jewels and furs and couture clothes, but never foolishly, nor to excess. He knew too that her money had been well invested and that she watched over it diligently, with an eagle eye, her mind quite clear and sane when it came to finances. Victor had taken her to a staid old-fashioned accounting firm in 1956, and they still handled her business. Through their good advice, and her own shrewdness, she was a millionairess many times over.

Yes, he decided, she did avoid the Hollywood pitfalls, came out of there with a minimum of scars. Then why does Francesca think she behaves strangely every time she returns from the Coast? This was an enigma to him, and he wished he had questioned Frankie more thoroughly. And yet the more he thought about her remark the more he was convinced she was wrong. Something else had wrought the changes in Katharine. But what exactly?

This question haunted Nick for one whole night as he prowled around the house, too preoccupied and overwrought to sleep. At one moment it occurred to him that disorders of the mind did not develop
suddenly, overnight
. They grew gradually. He pondered Katharine’s childhood, her relationship with her father, the loss of her mother,
her preoccupation with Ryan. His mind swung to her vile experience with Gregson, her father’s condemnation of her, her obsessive nature. His thoughts ran on and on and he weighed everything he knew about her, and he came to the conclusion that her trouble
was
rooted in her early years. Surely this was the answer.

The following morning, seeking the proper enlightenment, Nick went out and bought a stack of books on mental illness, concentrating particularly on dementia praecox. For the next few days he read them avidly and with care, all the while asking himself if Katharine really
was
suffering from schizophrenia. Finally he had to acknowledge that he was out of his depth, and eventually he started to make discreet inquiries about reputable psychiatrists, knowing that he must formulate some sort of plan to prevent himself from going mad with worry about her. Being a well-informed man, Nick had heard of R. D. Laing’s revolutionary work in psychiatry and he began to amass a wealth of material on the specialist’s method of treatment, which he held in reserve for a future date.

As the weeks passed, Nick often found himself dwelling also on certain other aspects of Katharine’s character as demonstrated by her behaviour in recent months, trying to fathom why she did incomprehensible things. He had withheld several facts from Francesca, had carefully edited himself over lunch at La Grenouille, not simply because of an intrinsic sense of privacy, but also from loyalty and devotion to Katharine. How could he tell Frankie that Kath really was an inveterate liar? And there was no denying that she was. The saddest part, to Nick, was that Katharine lied about the most inconsequential things. It occurred to him one morning that perhaps she could not help herself, and he wondered if lying was simply a nasty habit dating back to her youth, and not a manifestation or symptom of mental derangement.

Even more worrying to Nick, however, was another habit Katharine had acquired prior to her departure for
Ceylon. She had taken to disappearing for long periods. On these occasions her transparently bogus explanations had astounded him, and they would have been laughable had the situation not been serious. When he questioned her about her lengthy absences, she either said she had been to church or to return a book to the library, at times when churches and libraries were closed. Furthermore, he was well aware she did not borrow books from any library anywhere, and had told her she was being preposterous in spinning such yarns and expecting him to believe her. Not in the least fazed, she had resolutely stuck to her story. Finally he had thrown up his hands in despair and frustration. Not long afterwards, she had truly frightened him when she had not arrived for dinner at his townhouse one evening, as arranged. After telephoning her every fifteen minutes for two hours without getting a reply, he had grown alarmed and had rushed up to her apartment on Seventy-Second Street. They had keys to each other’s homes, and he had let himself in, filled with anxiety, wondering what he would find. But the apartment was empty. Katharine had wandered in around midnight, looking exhausted and distracted. Taken aback to find him waiting for her, she had vehemently denied that they had had a dinner date, had flown into a tantrum of no mean proportions, and had accused him of spying on her and reading her private papers. Realizing there was nothing to be gained by fighting with her, Nick had gone home, pressing back his own anger, and not a little fear, asking himself if she
was
spinning down into total madness. The following morning, Katharine had been her usual remorseful self, had apologized profusely, begged him to forgive her, promised it would not happen again. And she had behaved impeccably until she had left to make the film.

Now, as he contemplated these two new habits, it unexpectedly crossed his mind that she might be lying and disappearing for a valid reason:
another man
. He gave it serious consideration and dismissed the idea as ridiculous.
Apart from the fact that she was not promiscuous by nature, she had retained a degree of frigidity, and Nick was aware sex was not a driving force in her life.

The possibility that she was indeed having an affair did not enter his head again for another year.

***

By the middle of July, as Katharine’s return to the States grew closer, Nicholas Latimer’s apprehension intensified. At the end of the month, she flew, with the rest of the cast and crew, from Ceylon to Hong Kong and then on to California. After post-production dubbing at the studio, she finally travelled back to New York.

The minute he met her at the airport he knew she had changed yet again. She was like her old self, not at all disturbed, and calmer than she had been for months. She had obviously enjoyed her stay in the Far East, and the film had gone extremely well, without a hitch. There was a lovely bloom on her, a freshness and vitality about her which staggered Nick. Dubious about it lasting, he nonetheless camouflaged his anxiety and his surprise, and treated her as if nothing had happened prior to her leaving. Once more, he soon found himself enchanted by her, held in her thrall. Very slowly he began to relax, but he did not let down his guard entirely. He watched her. And he waited.

Nick also wisely bided his time before telling Katharine about Ryan and Francesca, explaining only that Francesca had left earlier than planned for her vacation in the South of France. Only when Katharine was completely rested and settled in her apartment did he finally mention the break-up.

Genuinely astonished and upset, Katharine had telephoned the villa in Monte Carlo immediately. As he listened to her speaking to Francesca, Nick was convinced she was being forthright. Although he could only hear one side of this conversation, it was not difficult to piece together the facts. Within minutes Nick decided Ryan had undoubtedly shifted
the blame, just as he had originally suspected. From the things Katharine was saying to Francesca, she had merely pointed out the drawbacks in the relationship, the religious difference, and had asked Ryan to think most carefully before making any decisions which would be irrevocable.

‘And there’s something else, Frankie darling,’ Katharine exclaimed into the ’phone, ‘I told Ryan that if he ever did anything to hurt you he would have to answer to
me
! I’m really going to let him have it when I see him. He’s behaved abominably towards you. I can’t begin to tell you how furious lam.’

Smoking on the sofa, Nick looked out of the window, nodded to himself, thinking Ryan had been a coward, and an underhanded one at that. He was relieved Francesca was free of him finally. Another more suitable man would soon come along.

A few days after this telephone call, Nick arrived at Katharine’s apartment to find her engaged in a violent verbal battle with her brother, who had stopped off to see her during a quick visit to Manhattan. Grimacing, Nick retreated rapidly into the privacy of Katharine’s bedroom and did not emerge until Ryan had left, when he was positive the family feathers had stopped flying.

Controlling her anger, and looking grave and thoughtful, Katharine informed Nick that she had finished with her brother, had washed her hands of him. ‘I’m leaving him to God—and Patrick O’Rourke. If he can handle
both
,’ she had said quietly, shaking her lovely head. ‘I can’t cope with him any more, darling. He’s impossible. He
is
weak. I told him not to bother coming around here any more.’

Nick nodded, said nothing, not giving this statement much credibility. She had had altercations with Ryan many times, and had always been the first to seek reconciliation. But as the weeks passed and she made no move to contact her brother, Nick began to believe she had spoken the truth. He chided himself for thinking the worst, for suspecting
her of deviousness and lying. In fact, Katharine had not displayed these dismaying traits at all since her return. Her disposition continued to be tranquil; she was considerate and affectionate. If she was sometimes strangely quiet and unusually subdued, even abstracted on occasion, she gave him no real cause for concern. This pleased Nick. However, he was not foolish enough to think her present behaviour signified a sudden recovery from all that ailed her. He was fully aware that at best Katharine was still a troubled woman.

At the end of September, Francesca came back, and it was like old times that particular fall. The friendship between the two women had not been damaged in any way whatsoever, and they were as close as they had ever been. Ryan O’Rourke might have never existed, or so it seemed to Nicholas. Francesca was delighted with the change in Katharine, and as October drew to a close she told Nick she thought they had probably exaggerated Katharine’s mental problems, blown them out of proportion. They were standing in her living room, where a party for Doris and her father was in progress. ‘Kath seems awfully normal to me, Nicky, and very well balanced, wouldn’t you say?’

Nick nodded his agreement as he followed Francesca’s gaze. Katharine was talking to Hilary Ogden and the Earl. This night she had never looked more beautiful, in a simple black velvet dress and a diamond pin and earrings he had never seen before. Her chestnut hah was drawn back from her face and knotted in a low chignon in the nape of her neck. The warmth of the room had brought a light pink blush to her pale complexion and her turquoise eyes were gay and sparkling. He dragged his eyes away and said, ‘I thank God every day, Frankie. I don’t know what happened when she was in the Far East, but she came back much more peaceful.’ He laughed lightly. ‘I can’t say why I feel this, but I think something affected her there.’

Francesca glanced at him curiously. ‘She’s never said
anything to me. In fact she’s hardly mentioned the trip, or filming there, at all. Let’s just be glad. I can’t bear to think of her being tortured the way she was earlier in the year.’

‘Neither can I. Oh, hello, Terry. How are you?’

Terrence Ogden, as debonair and handsome as ever, shook Nick’s hand. ‘I’m great. And you look pretty terrific yourself. Lovely party, Francesca. And I say, Nicky, your old lady is pretty nifty tonight. I’ve never seen Puss so relaxed. I don’t know what your secret is, old chap, but it’s worked wonders.’

Nick grinned. ‘Thanks, Terry. Francesca and I were just agreeing Kath is very healthy these days.’

‘Thank Christ! It took me a long time to recover from her verbal assault on me this spring. Hilary and I still don’t know what set her off. Pressure of work perhaps, tension, strain. Who knows? Hell, the main thing is that she’s her old self.’

Terry chatted for a few minutes about the film he had recently finished in Hollywood, and then he drifted off. Francesca went to the kitchen to speak to the caterers about supper, and Nick joined Katharine, cheered by Francesca’s remarks and Terry’s comments also.

Nick realized Terry had planted a germ of a thought in his mind, and for several days after the party he ruminated on the actor’s words. Perhaps the strain and exhaustion of work had indeed induced Katharine’s irritability, irrationality and explosive moods. It was a possibility worth considering, particularly since it was not so uncommon. Other performers had been known to collapse, and she had gone from one picture to the next, and at breakneck speed, starring in
Trojan Interlude
on Broadway in between. Terry’s points were well taken, and Nick made up his mind to veto her next project, whatever it was.