Jack's Widow (29 page)

For some months she ably nursed him, devoting as much time to him as she could, when she wasn’t with her children or performing as Mrs. Onassis.

When they were alone Jackie and Guy pleased themselves, rising late, driving out to buy local produce. In the morning they concentrated on his exercises. His right leg and shoulder had been badly hurt. She would teach him easy yoga positions and slowed her pace to accompany him on his halting walks. He would lovingly charm her in every language he knew, teaching her smatterings of Russian and Turkish. They pooled their knowledge of Greek, the language, the history, the literature.

As time passed she and Guy started making plans for a life together. At the beginning he encouraged her to follow his example and become single again. His wife was keen to remarry as soon as possible. But all too soon they both realistically accepted that for Jackie to divorce Telis would be too intrusive and embarrassing. His affair with Callas would be blazoned across the world’s newspapers, and with her children now teenagers she could not face the scandal. Their love affair must remain their secret.

“Will I ever be free and be me?” she dejectedly asked Guy.

“Alone together, we are as honest as most people ever are,” said
Guy. “We can, and do, say everything and anything we want to each other. We laugh and moan and I complain that I can’t walk, the blond hairs are going gray, and you can’t ride as fast as you used to. We have no no-go areas. Our bad luck is that we have to deal with your public.”

She was not convinced that her only problem was the public. Especially once he recovered and finally returned to work.

So they could be together, he rented a country house just outside Langley in the rolling hills of Virginia. The agency converted a small cottage on the property for their surveillance purposes. They built gates and fences that would deter both press and burglars. In between doing her duties as a mother and as Ari’s wife, Jackie found much happiness with Guy under the whitewashed rafters.

At first Guy planned to spend just three days a week at work, but within a fortnight he was back, fully involved in the CIA. “Sorry, I can’t just sit around doing nothing. Once I am in the office, I’m involved. I can’t do a proper job if I’m half-time.”

A few days later Harry invited himself over and carefully explained that the agency desperately needed experienced officers out in the field. “Guy, we need you to go overseas, but only for another year or two, then my boy, you’ll probably get my job!”

Soon Jackie was behaving like every other person involved with someone from the agency. She became used to long periods worrying and waiting for Guy’s call. For the first time in her life she was not worried that the man she loved would be unfaithful or disloyal. All she fretted about was his safety.

Jackie had adapted to her double life with panache. If she occasionally blamed the children for her nonappearance at Ari’s side, he only chided her gently. If her presence was important to him, since the Jackie effect garnered goodwill and sales, he would make sure that he gave her very early warning.

His own affair made him wary of discovering anything more about her life.

But everything changed in 1973 when Alexander, Ari’s son, died in a helicopter crash. Bowed by grief, Ari started to hate her. He
blamed Jackie, encouraged by his Greek friends, not to mention his daughter.

“She brings death everywhere she goes. Get rid of her,” screamed Christina.

He couldn’t yet bring himself to do so. His revenge was to use her, so when he called Jackie, it was to summon her across the world for angry bouts of sex.

If his aim was to make her feel like a highly paid prostitute, he succeeded. But, knowing how the death of a child would be the worst thing to happen to anyone, she could do nothing but accede to his wishes. She felt sorry for him.

For once she couldn’t tell Guy. She guessed he would not understand.

This was easier than she imagined. Guy was working hard and often away. The letters of love never dried up and from time to time Harry Blackstone delivered them himself. A few months after Alexander’s death he arrived, in one hand Guy’s latest missive, in the other transcripts of radio transmissions that revealed a plot to eliminate Guy and Jackie. With no histrionics Harry explained how the one link between all this information was Vladimir Zerev.

“Over the last few years he has become very powerful,” said Guy’s boss.

Without any drama Harry continued.

“Without naming names, I asked some of my fellow officers to outline the risks that you two are running. You see, Zerev and others in the KGB seem convinced that not only did you work for the CIA but that you still are.”

Harry pointed to the places in the translations that mentioned her specifically, and one which mentioned her children too.

“I hate to say it but you should know better than anyone that no one is impregnable,” he warned.

“I know you and Guy only manage a few weeks a year together, a day here or a night there, but you have to be even more safety conscious now,” said Harry.

“The press haven’t found you out because, frankly, the combination of your activities in New York, the charities, the ballet, keeping Grand Central Station’s landmark status to stop it from being knocked down by developers, keeps them fueled with new stories, new pictures. Not to mention your frequent photogenic trips with your husband. So they have not discovered your secret life in the Virginia countryside. They just think you are involved in riding and hunting there.

“But the Russians will use wiretaps, secret cameras, anything at all to tie you two together. I would think they have enough to expose you. But hey, now you are with a good-looking American spy—”

Jackie stopped him. Harry didn’t have to paint a picture. Her countrymen would love it.

“The Russians don’t want you to look good. They mostly want to stop Guy. He’s been too successful for their taste lately.”

Harry may or may not have heard a ghostly “Not again, not again” from her lips, but he thought it best to continue and to ensure she got the message.

“Let’s be clear, I can protect you in the U.S. but from now on you will have to meet elsewhere and abort all established patterns of behavior. I can’t be sure that I can keep you safe abroad.”

When he returned from his latest assignment, Guy was so worried about her safety he suggested they return to letter writing for the moment.

Jackie would have remonstrated but she had other problems. Not only was Ari still furious with her because he believed she was cursed and responsible for his son’s death, now that he was ill, he mistrusted her help. While in New York, Ari had had growing health problems after being confined to his suite at the Pierre Hotel. Even though his “flu” was diagnosed as myasthenia gravis, a progressive muscular disease, he was determined enough to head back to Greece. At first medication seemed to treat the symptoms—drooping eyelids and fatigue—but very soon his heart function was compromised. Concerned, Jackie turned up at his Glyfada home in Athens with a renowned American cardiologist. Suspicious of her
doctor, he chose to fly to Paris. With his sister, Jackie accompanied him, but when it was suggested he should have an operation on his gall bladder, Ari refused to go to the American Hospital and holed up in his Avenue Foch apartment for three days. His recovery was complicated. His heart was weakened, his muscular disease was taking hold, but after a week of antibiotics he rallied enough for the doctors to tell Jackie she would be safe to return to New York to see Caroline and John.

A combination of the aggressive attitude of Ari and his coterie toward her and the lonely hours she spent in the French capital meant that Harry’s forebodings started to have an effect. She began to see shadows in the Parisian streets. Once or twice she swore she had seen Vladimir Zerev across the road or in a chauffeur-driven car at the lights. She crossed and recrossed the Atlantic as Ari’s stay in the hospital lengthened, while her fears for her personal safety grew stronger each time. She made the children spend their weekends with at least one family member and was glad that she had persuaded Harry to warn the Secret Service to be especially vigilant.

Once again she returned to the City of Light and the French doctors reassured her that her husband was making slow progress. Jackie was torn. She knew she ought to stay but by now she was very fearful for her children, so after a few days, when she was assured that her husband was in no danger, she left her bedside vigil and flew to the East Coast. Ari’s situation suddenly worsened. He developed severe pneumonia, which would not respond to any medicine. He died without her there.

Guy sped to 1040 as soon as Jackie returned from the funeral in Skorpios.

“I am so angry that you are now being criticized publicly for leaving Ari. I feel so bad. You can’t live your life feeling hunted because of me, and even if I give the job up the Russians will always have me in their sights.

“Darling”—he took her in his arms—“now we are both free, how I long to be with you. Always, in public. But it is too danger
ous. Harry doesn’t exaggerate. I couldn’t let Caroline or John come anywhere near me now.”

Swift shadows of fear crossed her eyes.

“I’m even keeping Lucas at arm’s length.”

Reluctantly he left in the early hours.

That night he left her a message: “Jackie, do you remember that famous night when I came to see you with the notebook and those lists. You might recall that at the time you felt very strongly that you wanted to surprise the world by doing something good. You did. You did years of working for the agency, but we could not let the world know. In fact, we may never be able to do so. If we do the enemy will assume that all of our first ladies are spies and that isn’t very fair to wish on your successors.

“This isn’t a farewell letter but I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you or the children because Vladimir S. wants to dispose of me!

“This is just a short farewell note. You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily. Somehow we’ll have our moments together again. But think about what you said that night. Why not fill your day with a different stress and pressure, the one that comes of struggling and exerting yourself into doing your best, being creative, helping someone…

“Whatever you decide, I will always love you, Guy.”

Not long after, the announcement that she was to work as an editor of a New York publishing house did stun the world.

Gradually she understood that work was as much about status as salary and that a hard day’s work did help dull the pain of the forced separation from Guy.

Finally Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis threw off some of the structures visited upon her by her mother. Like other women of her time who chose intelligent liberation, she finally realized that a husband was an optional extra, not a necessity.

She never married or spied again.

My first gratitude must go to Gilly Vincent who suggested that I should write something more about Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Both she and Elizabeth Sheinkman have been the most supportive and encouraging agents. I am also grateful to my editor, Alison Callaghan, and her side kick, Jeanette Perez, who deftly handled someone working on the other side of the Atlantic.

Among the many others who supplied advice and information, I would like to acknowledge Peter Brown, Monie Begley, and Patrick McCarthy, Gloria Sheehan and DeLano Knox of
Women’s Wear Daily,
Christopher Banks, Barry Winkleman, Barrie Penrose, Joyce Hopkirk, Wendy Steavenson, Wendy Miles, and not forgetting Wendy Payne and Jenny Moffatt for their technical expertise.

Those closest to me excelled themselves, especially Claudia Winkleman, Kris Thykier, and Oliver and Rachael Lloyd.

For his constant care, encouragement, and involvement in this venture, as in all my schemes, hare brained or not, my love and thanks go to my husband, Nick.

Jacket design by Chin-Yee Lai