the study door, Anne had to take a deep breath, deliberately willing herself to be calm, to remember not to start twisting her fingers together once she was in his presence. All this formality-God, it's ridiculous! I wonder what he'd do if I burst into the room and flung my arms around his neck and kissed him? The thought was so outrageous it almost made her giggle.
He was alone. She had half-expected Craig to be there too, facing her with his accusing eyes. But it seemed she was to be granted a private audience.
"Anne, you're looking well. Will you have a glass of sherry?" He stood up courteously as she walked into the room, digging her hands into the pockets of her faded jeans.
"I'd rather have a martini, if I may." He didn't raise an eyebrow; merely inclined his head. "Of course you may. I hope I remember the right mixture."
She perched on the arm of a wing chair, watching him; tension coiled inside her like a spring. She was determined not to let him notice.
He handed her the glass and waited for her to taste her drink before he said, without inflection, "Are you ready to talk about it now? I understand there's been some misunderstanding with Craig .. ."
She seized on his statement thankfully. "I'm afraid it's more than just a misunderstanding. And I wish you hadn't brought Craig here with you. I wanted to tell you that I can't live with him any longer. I intend to divorce him. And-and I wanted to say that I'm going to travel abroad for a while. I have mother's money from the trust, you know, and I think I'd like to be on my own for a while. That's all. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"I see." There was only a slight lift of an eyebrow in response, and his lack of reaction infuriated her, making her next words sound flip and almost defiant.
"I hope so ... father. Because I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I intend starting to live my own life for a change, and Europe seems like a safe enough distance away."
"Anne .. ." His voice sounded exaggeratedly patient, as if she were still a child.
"You're of age, and I've never used coercion on you. Naturally I'm sorry to hear that you can't settle your differences with Craig-or is it 'won't'? All I must ask of you is that you be discreet-a little more discreet than you have been during the past few days.
You've led a sheltered life, and I don't think you realize just how vulnerable you are.
Because"-his voice hardened almost imperceptibly-"like it or not, you are my daughter. And there are people who wouldn't hesitate to try to capitalize on that fact.
I'm sorry if the subject is unpleasant, but you have to face it. I must protect myself too, you see."
With neither recrimination nor accusation he had managed to diminish her in some indefinable way. His words were pinpricks in the balloon of her newfound self-confidence, reducing everything into tawdry perspective.
She had been indiscreet and incautious. He let her know he knew and left the subject alone, leaving her unable to defend herself. Anne couldn't remember afterwards how the meeting ended, except for little details.
She finished her martini and left the olive in the bottom of her glass. He held the door open politely when she left, with nothing more to say. And she was free-if freedom meant calling a travel agency and packing two suitcases. An empty victory, because after all she hadn't had to fight for it.
It seemed, all of a sudden, that she wasn't escaping, but rather running away. And she didn't want to think yet: from what, to what?
PART TWO
THE ACTOR
Chapter Nine
ANNE MALLORY spent twelve months traveling around Europe. With enough money to make her independent, moving in the right circles, she was determined to make a new life for herself. "Escaping to find herself" was the way she had thought about it in the beginning. She even decided to use her mother's maiden name, Mallory. Paris first, where she splurged on a designer wardrobe and was offered a modeling job by
He was alone. She had half-expected Craig to be there too, facing her with his accusing eyes. But it seemed she was to be granted a private audience.
"Anne, you're looking well. Will you have a glass of sherry?" He stood up courteously as she walked into the room, digging her hands into the pockets of her faded jeans.
"I'd rather have a martini, if I may." He didn't raise an eyebrow; merely inclined his head. "Of course you may. I hope I remember the right mixture."
She perched on the arm of a wing chair, watching him; tension coiled inside her like a spring. She was determined not to let him notice.
He handed her the glass and waited for her to taste her drink before he said, without inflection, "Are you ready to talk about it now? I understand there's been some misunderstanding with Craig .. ."
She seized on his statement thankfully. "I'm afraid it's more than just a misunderstanding. And I wish you hadn't brought Craig here with you. I wanted to tell you that I can't live with him any longer. I intend to divorce him. And-and I wanted to say that I'm going to travel abroad for a while. I have mother's money from the trust, you know, and I think I'd like to be on my own for a while. That's all. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"I see." There was only a slight lift of an eyebrow in response, and his lack of reaction infuriated her, making her next words sound flip and almost defiant.
"I hope so ... father. Because I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings between us. I intend starting to live my own life for a change, and Europe seems like a safe enough distance away."
"Anne .. ." His voice sounded exaggeratedly patient, as if she were still a child.
"You're of age, and I've never used coercion on you. Naturally I'm sorry to hear that you can't settle your differences with Craig-or is it 'won't'? All I must ask of you is that you be discreet-a little more discreet than you have been during the past few days.
You've led a sheltered life, and I don't think you realize just how vulnerable you are.
Because"-his voice hardened almost imperceptibly-"like it or not, you are my daughter. And there are people who wouldn't hesitate to try to capitalize on that fact.
I'm sorry if the subject is unpleasant, but you have to face it. I must protect myself too, you see."
With neither recrimination nor accusation he had managed to diminish her in some indefinable way. His words were pinpricks in the balloon of her newfound self-confidence, reducing everything into tawdry perspective.
She had been indiscreet and incautious. He let her know he knew and left the subject alone, leaving her unable to defend herself. Anne couldn't remember afterwards how the meeting ended, except for little details.
She finished her martini and left the olive in the bottom of her glass. He held the door open politely when she left, with nothing more to say. And she was free-if freedom meant calling a travel agency and packing two suitcases. An empty victory, because after all she hadn't had to fight for it.
It seemed, all of a sudden, that she wasn't escaping, but rather running away. And she didn't want to think yet: from what, to what?
PART TWO
THE ACTOR
Chapter Nine
ANNE MALLORY spent twelve months traveling around Europe. With enough money to make her independent, moving in the right circles, she was determined to make a new life for herself. "Escaping to find herself" was the way she had thought about it in the beginning. She even decided to use her mother's maiden name, Mallory. Paris first, where she splurged on a designer wardrobe and was offered a modeling job by
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