Voice of the Heart (89 page)

‘Oh Kath darling! Oh
Kath
—’ Francesca was unable to say anything more, and her heart went out to her friend with compassion and tenderness.

‘I’m not going to insult you by asking you to promise not to repeat this,’ said Katharine. ‘I trust you, Frankie. With my life.’

‘And you can, darling.
Always
. I would never tell anybody anything about you. I love you far too much to hurt you.’ Francesca’s eyes grew huge in her face, and she asked in a whisper, ‘What are you going to do?’

‘There’s only one thing I can do. I’ll have to have an abortion,’ Katharine whispered back.

‘Oh my God, no! You can’t, Kath. You
mustn’t
. That’s so dangerous.
Risky
. It’s illegal, and you’d be forced to go to a quack. I know a girl from school who went to one and she… almost bled to death.’

Katharine’s mouth had gone dry, and she took a sip of the lemonade, found herself gagging on it. She put the glass down carefully, mumbled, ‘I’m not going to a quack. When my doctor called me last Friday to tell me the tests were positive, he said he would arrange for me to go into a private nursing home where there are qualified doctors. It’s expensive, but he assures me it’s safe. I’ll be all right,’ she finished, adopting a positive tone, but her apprehension flared as she contemplated the ordeal facing her.

The mere idea of an abortion terrified Francesca, wherever it was being performed and by whom, for she vividly remembered the school friend who had so foolishly endangered her young life. She drew closer to Katharine, implored, ‘Please, please don’t go through with this, Kath darling. You’re so delicate, and I’m worried about your health. What about the father? Won’t he stand by you?’ When these questions remained unanswered, Francesca discarded her usual reserve. ‘Who is it, Kath? Who’s the father?’

Katharine shook her head. ‘I’d rather not mention his name.’

Francesca was surprised, but she did not say so. Instead, she intoned with firmness, ‘Look here, Kath, I think you should have the baby, no matter what. An abortion is so dicey and—’

‘I can’t!’ Katharine wailed, her voice breaking. ‘Please don’t try to dissuade me. I won’t even begin to tell you the kind of hell I’ve been through, coming to the decision in the first place. I was brought up a Roman Catholic, and although I’ve been lapsed for years, I guess I’m still a Catholic in my heart. I’m committing a mortal sin. I’m killing my own child. Oh God, Frankie, don’t make it worse—’ For the first time the tears brimmed, Katharine searched her pocket for a handkerchief, wiped her eyes, tried to recoup her self-control.

‘Don’t cry, Kath,’ Francesca murmured, reaching for her hand, gentling her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you more than you are already. And you know I’ll do anything I can to help you…’ Francesca paused thoughtfully, plunged in again. ‘About the man—’

‘What about him?’ Katharine interrupted fretfully.

‘I’m not asking his name,’ Francesca asserted. ‘I was just wondering what he’s said about your plans?’

‘He doesn’t know.’

‘Why haven’t you told him, for God’s sake?’ Francesca demanded.

‘Because I’m not sure what he’d do, how he’d react.’ Francesca bit her lip again and winced. It was raw from chewing nervously on it for days. She said, in a dim voice, ‘He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant.’

‘Oh Kath!’ Francesca straightened up, and a look of fierce determination flashed. ‘My God, you must tell him!
Immediately
. This is a terrible burden for you to carry alone. Anyway, it’s his responsibility too. You
have
to inform him, so that he can help you, comfort you, see you through this.’

‘Thank you for saying
you’ll
be there for me. I’m grateful for that.’ Fresh tears sparkled and she brushed her eyes with her hand. ‘I wish I’d told you about this before. I didn’t because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I thought you might despise me. I know how you feel about Kim… so protective of him. And while I’m not trying to excuse what I’ve done, I do want you to know I’m not promiscuous, and I—’

‘I never thought you were!’

‘I don’t sleep around,’ Katharine continued in a subdued manner. ‘What I mean is, I wasn’t having two affairs at once. I haven’t ever slept with Kim, as long as I’ve known him.’

‘I wasn’t sure whether you had or not, and anyway, it’s none of my business. Also, you should know I’d never moralize to you, nor do you have to justify yourself to me, Kath.’

‘Thank you, darling. And thank you for being my friend.’

‘As your friend I feel I must say something else to you,’ began Francesca hesitantly. ‘I can’t fathom your attitude. I don’t want to harp on about the man, but
why
won’t you tell him about your predicament?’

‘Because there’s no point. Why worry him when I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this myself? It’s bad enough
I’ve
been at my wits’ end, without inflicting torment on him as well.’

Francesca was hard pressed to hide her irritation. ‘That’s typical of you. Thinking of others. But not very smart.
Besides, he might not agree to this plan of yours. Hasn’t it occurred to you he might want to marry you, want you to have the baby? And what about you? Wouldn’t you marry him if he asked you?’

‘He won’t ask me. He’s already married.’

‘Oh no!’

Katharine dropped her eyes, her misery acute. She had not intended to go this far, to tell Francesca as much as she had. She had simply wanted to explain her reasons for breaking up with Kim, share her worries about the baby. She was wading in deep water unexpectedly, perhaps because she had not anticipated such persistent and pertinent questions from Francesca, who was normally so discreet.

‘Couldn’t he get a divorce, Kath?’ Francesca suggested.

‘I don’t know. But to be honest, I don’t want him to. I don’t want to marry him and I’m sure he feels the same. We don’t love each other, at least not in that way… we’re very fond of each other of course.’ Katharine shook her head vehemently, this gesture as negative as her expression. ‘Marriage is a serious business, and if it’s going to work, to be successful, it has to have a strong foundation, be based on much deeper emotions than those
we
share.’ She exhaled wearily. ‘So marriage is hardly a solution… it’s out of the question.’

‘I see.’ Francesca did not know what to say or suggest. She had reached an impasse with Katharine, who was strong willed to the point of obduracy. Francesca was entirely convinced Katharine’s judgment was seriously flawed, and that she must reveal her condition to the man with whom she was involved, to gain his emotional support, if nothing else. ‘Are you afraid to tell him, Kath?’

Startled from her momentary abstraction, Katharine raised her dark head, shook it. ‘No, of course I’m not. Why do you ask?’

‘It struck me that this might be the reason you haven’t explained the situation to him. I know I’m nagging, but he
really ought to know. I’d certainly be willing to tell him for you if—’

‘No!’ Katharine almost shouted, alarmed at this proposal. ‘Absolutely not.’

Francesca pulled back, startled and rebuffed.

Katharine, observing the hurt look, apologized swiftly. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It was sweet of you to volunteer.’ She instantly comprehended something else reflected in the tawny eyes, and scrutinized Francesca more closely. ‘You’re annoyed because I’m being mysterious about his identity, aren’t you?’

‘No, Kath, I’m not. I am a bit baffled though. You’ve confided so much in me, I can’t imagine you don’t trust me completely. Still…’ Francesca shrugged, then added, ‘I wasn’t being nosey when I said I’d talk to him for you, I was merely trying to help.’

‘Oh Frankie, I realize that.’ Katharine pondered. She had vowed she would never disclose his name. To protect herself. She had to be in sole control of her future and her destiny, and who knew what emotions would be unleashed if he found out. She could not permit him to have that kind of power over her, to possibly dictate to her. Musing out loud, Katharine now remarked, ‘He’s an odd man, and difficult to read at times.’ She leaned back, thinking. Innumerable images danced around in her head, and then a faraway expression washed over her delicately beautiful face and a faint smile touched her lips. ‘But then I’ve told you that before…’ The sentence remained unfinished.

Confused and bewildered, Francesca said, ‘Mentioned what? I’m not following you.’

Katharine sighed, said with resignation, ‘That Vic is a funny kind of man, so lonely really, and—’

‘Vic! Why are you talking about Vic all of a sudden?’

Shaking her head, Katharine murmured softly, ‘I hadn’t meant to reveal his name, but as you said, you do know so much. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I mean, I know I can
count on your confidentiality, Frankie. Vic is the father of my child.’

Francesca recoiled. She stared at Katharine aghast, so stunned she was uncomprehending. What had Katharine just said? That Vic was the father of the baby? It wasn’t possible. Not Vic. Katharine and
Vic
. For a fraction of a second Francesca convinced herself she had misheard, misunderstood. She blinked nervously. ‘
Victor Mason?
’ As she mouthed his name horror swarmed over her, and her mind baulked at the shattering implications, refused to accept them.

‘Why, yes.’ Katharine’s expression was suddenly rueful. ‘You sound so surprised, yet
you
know better than anyone else how much we’ve been thrown together.’

A voice shrieked in Francesca’s brain, denying, denying. Her eyes, wild with shock and disbelief, were fixed on Katharine. She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

Katharine leaned across the table with urgency. ‘You must promise me you won’t tell him. He must never know about the baby.
Never
. Promise me, Frankie, please promise me. Give me your word of honour. Swear it on… the honour of the Cunninghams,’ Katharine insisted with high-pitched intensity. Her eyes, more startlingly blue than ever, stretched wider, were pleading.

‘Y-y-yes,’ stammered Francesca, foundering, her shock spiralling. ‘I promise. On my honour.’ This was an automatic response; she hardly knew what she was saying. She thought she was choking. Her chest had tightened, and her heart, pounding at an accelerated rate, clattered against her ribcage.
It wasn’t true! Katharine was lying. But why would she lie? She had no reason to name Victor if he was not the father of her child. To hurt me. Because she’s jealous. No, she would never hurt me. She loves me. She doesn’t know about us, so how could she be jealous? Victor had insisted on secrecy. Of course. He had had to do that. Because of Katharine. He had been sleeping with them both at the same time. Oh
my God! Oh Vic! Oh Vic! How could you! Why? And why Katharine? Why my dearest friend? You betrayed me, Vic. No, they both betrayed me! And so treacherously. No, not Katharine. She never knew about us. I must tell her. No, don’t tell her. Wait. First find out. About her and Vic. I don’t want to know. Yes, you do. I couldn’t stand it. Yes, you could. You have to know. For your own sanity.

These chaotic thoughts, swirling in Francesca’s brain, jostling violently against one another in the passage of a few minutes, were accompanied by a terrible silent scream. It was a scream of unbearable pain and anguish. She clasped her shaking hands together in her lap, digging her nails into her palms, striving for control, willing herself to continue this horrifying dialogue.

‘I would have never guessed he was… that it was him.’ Francesca heard her voice as if from a great distance. It was a hoarse and rasping whisper.

‘I thought it was probably obvious, that you’d already put two and two together,’ Katharine replied.

Now Francesca forced herself to ask the most difficult question of all. ‘How long… how long has it been going on?’ She dreaded the answer. She wanted to run—and run fast. Away from this dark and dazzling beauty facing her, away from this terrace, away from this house. Run. Run anywhere. She looked at Katharine, waiting. She must know… know the worst, however much it pained her, destroyed her. And she knew in her heart of hearts, and with a sinking dread, that she
was
about to be destroyed. She asked, ‘Has it been a long affair?’

‘No, not long,’ Katharine responded absently, again lost in her own ruminations, her eyes trained on the distant sea. Rousing herself, she went on, ‘We’ve always been close, as you know, but not romantically entangled. Then in May, on location, it just happened, before either of us realized. In a sense, I believe it was an inevitability. We were so caught up with our work, the film, those passionate love scenes on the set.
And there
is
something irresistible about Vic. He’s so masculine, and very forceful.’

A sigh swept through Katharine and she shook her head, looked wistful. ‘I couldn’t help myself, in spite of Kim, and even though I knew deep down it probably wasn’t a major involvement for Vic. He’s accustomed to women swooning at his feet, you know what a lady-killer he is. As a matter of fact, it didn’t take me long to realize our romance would fizzle out as swiftly as it had started. I was right. It was virtually meaningless to him.’ Another tiny sigh. ‘He’s fond of me, cares about me, in his own way. Under the circumstances, I didn’t have much alternative but to be philosophical about everything. Unfortunately, I hadn’t bargained for this… the consequences.’

Francesca could not speak.
Meaningless to him. But not to me. Oh no, Vic, not to me. She calls him Vic! He doesn’t let anyone call him Vic—only those closest to him. Me. Nicky. And obviously Katharine. Oh God! It happened on location. In Yorkshire. He must have slept with her that weekend they were staying at Langley Castle. He refused to come to my room. Because of Daddy. Because it was my home. He said it would be improper. Improper! Oh Vic! You lied. You cheated. You were unfaithful to me.
She saw the two of them then, in her mind’s eye, the picture, sharp, vivid, detailed. Katharine in Victor’s arms, kissing him, touching him, and Victor returning her kisses and caresses, possessing her. Did he make love to Katharine the same way he made love to me? Did he say the same things to her? Tender, passionate, intimate things? She could not bear to contemplate these probabilities, pushed aside the devastating thoughts, snapped her lids tightly shut. She was shaken by a sudden scorching jealousy and a fulminating rage mingled with enormous hatred. Hatred for Katharine Tempest.
It’s her fault. She tempted him. Encouraged him. Inveigled him. Yes, that was the answer. Vic would never be unfaithful to me, to our love, of his own volition!