An Idol for Others (64 page)

David called at noon the next day soon after Walter had returned from his visit to the hospital. He took the call in the library.

“He’s gone,” David announced dramatically but hurried on. “Don’t worry. It’s all right. I think I’ve got the whole story. He didn’t turn up for rehearsals yesterday afternoon. I’ve told them to let me know if anything unusual turns up, especially anything to do with Tom. They tried to call him at home and got no answer. I called a guy who knows him and asked him to go right out to the house–you can imagine what I was thinking …”

“For God’s sake, it wasn’t anything like that?”

“No, I tell you. Everything’s all right. This friend of mine found a woman there who works for him. She said he’d packed an hour or so earlier and had told her that he might be gone for some time. She was closing up the house. I checked the airports. He took an evening plane for New York.”

Walter closed his eyes and gripped the phone until his hand ached. He breathed deeply to control the beating of his heart. “Is that all? What do you suppose it means?”

“I don’t know, honey,” David said. “All that matters is that anybody who’s planning to do themselves mischief doesn’t go off on a trip. They stay home.”

“He hadn’t told anybody he might skip rehearsals?”

“Definitely not They even waited half an hour for him. He must’ve heard something during the break and decided to take off.”

“Heard what?”

“How do I know? It might have nothing to do with you. Maybe there’s somebody in New York he has to see. Maybe he’s going to Europe. Right in the middle of rehearsals of a play that means a lot to him. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“OK, David. Let me know immediately if you hear anything more.”

He dropped the phone and sprang up and went to the drinks cabinet. His hands shook while he poured himself a whisky. He knew as well as David why he had come, but he still had to leave it all to Tom. There was a faint chance that something else had brought him. He lifted the glass in a shaking hand and drank. He bowed his head and closed his eyes to fight back tears of gratitude.
Oh, Christ, Tommy. You’ve found out. You’ve come
.

Clara was in her bedroom when she went over the telephone messages that had come in while they were at the hospital that morning. She had been prepared for it, but she was surprised to see that he was in the city. “Please call Thomas Jennings immediately. Hotel Gladwyn.” She went to the phone and repeated her instructions to Alice that nobody except David was to be put through to Walter without checking first with her. She found Walter in an oddly elated mood at lunch, but she was used to his ups and downs. He even tried to construe his interview with Clarence as being favorable. It was the first sign he had given that he still had hopes of recovery.

When she went over the mail the next morning, her attention to postmarks almost made her miss the handwriting. She was about to drop the envelope onto the pile she would pass on to Walter when she caught herself and looked at it again. It was unmistakable. She turned the envelope over. It was plain, with no return address. She slit the envelope with a letter opener and pulled out a single sheet of Hotel Gladwyn stationery. She read it.

Darling,

I know now. I understand, but you were wrong. We belong to each other, all of us, remember. I knew your letter was nonsense. You may be a theater man, but you’ll never make a writer.

I’ve come to take you back as soon as you can go. If it’s going to be some time, I’ll find a place here. I’m happy again just being near you. I have a feeling that I’m being kept from you. I don’t blame her, but it won’t work. I know you want me with you. I can’t be anywhere else. If I don’t hear from you by this evening, the next crash you hear will be me breaking down your front door.

Our Tommy

She tore the sheet into a number of pieces with her calm, competent hands and dropped them into the wastebasket. She called the protection service and asked for special surveillance of the house for the next few days. If anybody was seen loitering in front of the door, he was to be cleared off. She called down to Alice and told her to tell everyone to pay particular attention to the viewing screen before opening the door. Nobody was to be admitted without her specific instructions. If he persisted, she would call him and tell him Walter didn’t want to see him.

She found Walter distracted during the day, but he talked again about the chances of his not having to have another operation. They were sitting over a game of chess in the late afternoon when Emile brought them a telegram. She rose and took it, moving out of Walter’s reach, immediately on her guard. She opened it and glanced through it and shrugged. She turned back and handed it to him.

“I can’t make head or tail of it. Do you have another production up your sleeve, dearest? It gave me a turn for a minute. I thought Clifton was returning to haunt us.”

Walter’s eyes caught the first word printed on the impersonal form. His hands began to tremble violently, and the paper slipped into his lap. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his dressing gown to conceal his agitation. His breath choked in his throat, somewhere between laughter and tears. His whole body contracted with an effort at control.

“What is it, dearest?” Clara was standing over him.

He shook his head. His eagerness to read the telegram helped him over the seizure. “It’s just that damned pain.” His voice was almost normal. His eyes took in the message lying in his lap.

“It looks bad. Is it passing?”

“Sure. I’m OK now.” He picked up the telegram and studied it.

Eaglet production available. Please notify terms immediately. Glad to win.

Webb

Clifton Webb. Mr. Belvedere. He’d called Tom Mr. Belvedere all one day. It had been a great joke. He puzzled for a moment over the last phrase and then remembered the name of his hotel and understood.

“Does it make sense to you, dearest?”

Clara’s voice reached him though layers of relief and apprehension and joy. The enigmatic wire made him feel a need for secrecy. “I think it’s from Josh. There was some elaborate bet. I’ve forgotten exactly. I think it was Josh. Maybe it was Hal. I’ll make some calls tomorrow and find out.” He folded the wire and put it in his pocket and kept his hand on it, a talisman.

Clara was seated opposite him again. “Whose move was it?”

He pretended to study the board. He wanted to appear relaxed and unhurried. “Yours. Maybe we better finish later. I always feel tired after those pains. I think I’ll lie down for a minute before it’s time for drinks.”

“Of course, dearest. I’m sorry.”

He took his time rising and leaving the room. Once out of it, he hurried up to his bedroom and locked himself in. He wanted to shout with joy. He grabbed the phone and asked for the Gladwyn Hotel. His legs began to tremble while he waited, and he sank onto the edge of the bed. The call was answered, and he managed to ask for Mr. Jennings before his breath caught, and he willed him to be there. There was buzzing on the line.

“Hello,” Tom said.

“Oh, Christ,” he groaned.

“Oh, darling. Oh, Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, god, darling, it’s you.”

“It’s you, Tommy. Oh, God, I’ve waited so–”

“Are you all right? You sound funny.”

“I’m crying.”

“Me too.”

“Tommy, Tommy.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Do you? Do you know the whole sad story?”

“Yeah. I know that too.”

“How did you find out?”

“I don’t know why it took me so long. I suddenly had a hunch the other day. I called Newton–you know, the doctor–and pretended I knew. He spilled the beans.”

“I thought you were here. I’ve been waiting for days.”

“Didn’t you get my messages or my note?”

“No. Nothing.”

“I thought so.”

“Was that the point of the nutty wire?”

“I had to get through to you somehow,” Tom explained. “I thought of asking David to tell you I was here, but I was afraid he might be in on some sort of plot too.”

“You mean, Clara knows you’re here?”

“She must You should’ve got my note this morning.”

“What did it say, baby?”

“Just that I’ve come to take you away. Or stay here. Whichever makes sense.”

“I’m a wreck, Tommy.”

“A beautiful ruin?”

“That’s only half accurate.”

“Would you care what I looked like?”

“No, but I don’t want you to get a shock.” There was no reply. “Tommy?”

“Yes, I’m crying, that’s all. I love you, darling, the way you are, the way you’re going to be, for however long we have.”

“What’re we going to do, Tommy?” Walter pleaded. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want this to–”

“I understand what you’ve been thinking, but it can’t work that way. We’re the same person, darling. You know that.”

“I’ve got to think. We’ve got to talk.”

“Sure. We’ll be together. You need me, darling. I need you. That’s the way it is.”

“Tommy. Tom Jennings. My Tommy. I love you, darling.”

“I never had any doubt about that.”

“Thank you, baby. It killed me to think you might. Oh, Christ, I can’t stand doing this to you.”

“It is sort of a dirty trick, but that’s the way you are. Getting sick and scaring a guy to death. I suppose you wanted to find out if I really cared.”

“It was an attention getter. You must admit that Oh, God, Tommy. Will we really be together? Don’t decide anything till you see me. You don’t know all the details. You’ll come tomorrow?”

“Not right away?”

“You’d have to see her. They’ve got me pretty hemmed in. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could stand it. I was waiting for you. That telegram was just about all my shattered nerves could take. The way I feel now, I’d just hang on to you and cry my goddamned eyes out. Give me till morning to pull myself together.”

“Sure, darling. I told you in that note that I’m happy. It’s true. The last few weeks have been rough. I’m happy again. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“Same here, Tommy. Maybe I’ll decide to live after all.”

“You’re damn right you will. We’re together. We’re going to keep it that way.”

“Yeah. Listen. Come at 10. I’m usually in pretty good shape by then. I’ll make sure you get in, even if I have to stand out on the stoop.”

“Get a good rest. I’m going to be all over you. You’ll need your strength. Your shoulder’s a mess, isn’t it? Newton’s been keeping in touch with the guys here. I can’t wait to see it and kiss it and fall in love with it. A whole new kooky sex kick.”

“Jesus, Tommy. You’ve just worked a miracle. My cock has arisen from the dead.” He heard himself laughing. He heard Tom laughing. He’d forgotten what simple loving fun was like.

“Keep it that way till tomorrow. I’ll tell you one thing. However we work it, I’m not spending another night alone. If you don’t want me, I’ll find somebody who does.”

“Just try. I’ll come over and shoot you dead. Good night, Tommy.”

“Good night, darling.”

“You didn’t believe my letter?”

“Not for a second.”

“I tried, baby.”

“I know.”

“Would you’ve believed anything I said?”

“No, we belong to each other.”

“Oh, God.”

“That’s it.”

“Yes, I guess it is.” Walter hung up slowly. He rose and wandered around the room. He stopped in front of a mirror. His hair was growing out so that it wasn’t very noticeable. Had Tom said something about Dorian Gray? It was happening. His neck looked slightly bent. His eyes were at odd angles. He looked his age. Would he care what Tom looked like? No. He could imagine loving him in different ways if he were disfigured. Tom was here. He had tried to spare him. Now he would take whatever comfort he was prepared to give.

What would he say to Clara? He should give her hell about the messages, but he decided not to mention them. He didn’t want to make her feel guilty. She would only take it out on Tom somehow. At least, there was no need for secrecy.

“Feel better?” she asked as he rejoined her in the library. “I’ve waited for you before I had a drink. I’m sure we both want one.” She went to the cabinet.

“I’ve just talked to Tom Jennings. He’s here. That wire was one of his jokes. It took me a few minutes to figure it out. I’m not at my most brilliant these days.”

“So he
is
here,” she said with her back turned to him, handling bottles and glasses. “There was a message–yesterday, I suppose–with a rather garbled name, like Lewing or Jewing. It crossed my mind that it might be Jennings. I meant to check downstairs but forgot. Isn’t he supposed to be with his show on the Coast?”

“I’m sure he is. I didn’t get around to asking him how long he’s staying, but he’ll certainly have to get back for the final rehearsals. He’s coming to see me tomorrow morning. I’ll want to have a private talk with him. I think I’ll ask him to stay with us. There’s no reason for him to pay for a hotel.”

She brought him a drink. “Do you think that’s a good idea, dearest?”

“How do we know what’s a good idea any more, Clarry? You and I are friends, aren’t we? We love each other. There’s room in our life for others. I can use all the love I can get. I know you’ll like him.”

“That may be, but shouldn’t I have a chance to find out? You say you’re not at your most brilliant, but you’re surely aware that there’s been a great deal of talk about you and Tom Jennings in the last few months.”

“Who cares? I want to live, Clara,” he cried. He was shocked at the depths of despair his voice revealed. He tried to go on more calmly. “I … we …” He wanted to tell her that he was in love, but the words stuck in his throat. He was suddenly on the edge of total breakdown. Tom offered him happiness, and he faced death. Tom brought him love and passion and light, and he had known all along that he could repay him only with suffering. He mustn’t break down. He might never be able to put himself together again. He stumbled to a chair and got rid of his glass as he felt everything in him splinter and crack. He let out an animal howl. He rocked in the chair and lifted his head and shouted and sobbed with helpless despair.