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'And Still My Heart Has Wings: PART 3
August in Paris is wonderful! Most of the Parisians are on holiday and the city becomes a visitor’s dream. I was fortunate enough to be able to travel with my husband on a week’s business trip, staying at his boss’ most modern apartment near Montmartre. My parents had offered to babysit, so I made the most of that glorious week.
While my hubby worked, Cathy crossed the Channel and we met at Le Bon Marché, considered one of Paris’ best department stores. It was incredibly expensive, but we giggled, sipped fine wine, and nibbled on the most delicioius chicken and spinach crepes that balmy summer afternoon. The year was 1973; Cathy was three months pregnant, and she was over-the-top happy. I remember her telling me about the three level flat in Kensington that she and Kenny were renting. “You just have to come and stay with us in London!” she insisted. As much as I wanted to, I had to get back to my teaching. However, I promised Cathy that I was saving her fantastic tour of London as a Christmas gift from my husband, and that I would definitely return.
Cathy continued filling me in about meeting several important contacts, not only through her own work, but through Kenny’s job in the ad firm. She spoke at great length concerning an older colleague of Kenny’s…Ian Davies was his name. She was exuberant about being invited to a World War II reunion of the RAF at The Savoy Hotel in London. Ian Davies had been extremely impressed with her black and white photos and hired her on the spot. Kenny was thrilled, she added, because Ian was his boss and anything Cathy could do to “kiss up” to the boss was A-okay with Kenny. I remember trying to change the subject, as the thought of Kenny Terzak advancing his own agenda, nauseated me.
Cathy’s conversation was centered on Ian Davies most of that evening as we dined with my hubby at a nearby café. In fact, Cathy went on into the night about how she sensed loneliness in this man in his early fifties. “It just breaks my heart to see this weird kind of sadness in his eyes. He’s got the palest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and what a smile to just die for."
We sipped much more wine at the apartment after my husband retired for the evening. She told me that this Ian had never married, yet he had qualities about him that any woman would have given her eye-teeth to latch on to. The man had dated a woman named Portia for years on end but Cathy didn’t think they belonged together…mostly because Portia Newman, though knock-dead gorgeous in the typical socialite manner, was controlling, and Ian balked at her every word.
Cathy mentioned that Ian would invite Cathy on walks along the Thames during lunch hour and she often took him up on it…through Kenny’s encouragement. Ha! Kenny most likely was again out on the prowl. Couldn’t Cathy see this? I didn’t put it past the creep.
It was strange as I now look back. Cathy was truly smitten by the Englishman!
Time always gives way to truth. A few months passed, and I was in the process of booking my early Christmas present from my husband to London. Out-of-the-blue, I received a disturbing phone call from Grace Mahoney, Cathy’s mother. She was beside herself. She broke down in conversation. I soon found myself talking to John. He was furious to say the least…and informed me that Cath had lost the baby. My heart just heaved; but what I heard next only angered me to the fullest limits imaginable!
Kenny was being held by Scotland Yard for questioning. Cathy had been pushed down the stairs in their flat one morning after a heated argument. Not only had she been pushed, but Kenny had hit her the day before. She hadn't said anything about it because she wanted to hide the bruising. This creep was now into physical abuse, as well as emotional! I told John I hoped they put him away for the rest of his miserable life.
John then told me that Cathy didn’t press charges…she instead asked that Kenny be sent back to the states... for good. She was going to divorce him. John broke down and we talked for close to half an hour. He felt guilty, as I felt he should! However, I couldn’t tell the man this. He had been solely responsible for pushing Kenny into his daughter’s arms…and all because he had wanted a macho son. It blew my mind how people’s minds work. I asked him if Cathy was still in the hospital and he said that she was,and that some sort of friend of Cathy's was going to take care of arranging for her further recovery. “Grace and I have to get passports, I'm ashamed to say."
Here was their daughter in London and they had not visited her as yet? I thought that both ridiculous and indeed strange, but John went on to admit to me that he had been avoiding England because he feared Grace having a setback of sorts due to her injuries in the war years ago. I then remembered Grace’s art and some of the very ‘dark’ paintings of nighttime in a city with fire everywhere, as well as that unfinished portrait of a man in uniform. I was beginning to feel as though I were smack dab in the middle of a novel or movie.
I cancelled my trip after getting a hold of Cathy on the phone. She sounded just fine to me and I sensed big relief that Kenny was being deported. I kept my mouth shut about it all. Cathy deserved better and I prayed she would find it. She told me her folks were going to come for her once they received their passports. I was so relieved. Not only that, but it crossed my mind that a trip back to England just might help in restoring some of Grace’s memories…at least the better ones. I had always felt so sorry for her.
Now comes the best part…and the part that I just cannot get over, no matter how unbelievable it all is…
It seemed that the handsome and charming Englishman owned not only a flat in London, but a large manor down in Devon. He was incensed that Kenny had treated Cathy in the manner that he did and Cathy told me that the Ian Davies felt a huge responsibility in making it all right again for Cathy. So, he invited her to Devon to recuperate. She didn’t hesitate in the least, and the letters that I got from my friend actually made me a bit envious.
Ian had servants who cared for every whim of Cathy’s. Cathy helped decorate the interior of the manor house (named Serendipity) for Christmas and Ian took her to her first real English pantomime. He taught Cathy how to make trifle and sauce for the plum pudding. Unfortunately, Cathy’s father had contracted pneumonia over the holidays and he and Grace cancelled their trip.
Before long, I found out that Ian and Cathy were taking long drives through the countryside and along Devon’s rocky beaches. He promised to take her horseback riding when the weather improved. Here was a fifty-something Englishman taking a most gullible thirty-one year old American under his wing! "So what?", my husband would taunt me. "Maybe she’ll marry him!" Never, I thought. Cathy was too ‘American.’ Besides, her focal point had always been Manhattan, as well as her base. Nah, Cathy would head home once she got all of this fantasy world out of her system.
My husband and I were again living close enough to Manhattan, and I was really looking forward to Cath and myself pounding the pavement together. I knew there had to be a tall, dark, and handsome man out there that would sweep my friend off of her petite feet…and you had better believe that I kept my eyes open for every single man out there!
A few months passed and here is THE letter I received from Cathy:
“You absolutely will never ever believe what happened when Mother and Daddy got over here. Ian and I had been staying at his flat, and yes, we were together in more ways than just being friends. I thought that I was in love for the first time in my life. He was just the dearest and most attentive man I’d ever run across. Our age difference meant nothing to either of us. In fact, we were the ideal couple, once Portia was out of the picture. You were right about Kenny. I guess I wanted to make it work. Daddy was so keen on him for so many years. He’s marrying Bev, by the way. Anyway, I picked up Mother and Daddy at Heathrow, kind of afraid of just what being back in England might do to Mother’s emotional stability. She was amazed at the changes, but told me London was more beautiful in her eyes than ever. She had told me much more about her memories of being an only child in Putney. I wish I’d known my grandmother. More than that, I wish I had known about the life my mother lived before I was born! I just don’t know where to begin as I am so upset. You see, Ian had planned on meeting my folks once he returned from work. Daddy and mother were staying at a hotel, and then Daddy got a phone call from a man he had known in London when he was stationed over here. The man asked Daddy to meet him for dinner and we told him to go ahead…what a great opportunity to catch up on old times! So, I told mother that I would pick her up and she could meet Ian and I would cook dinner for the three of us at the flat. Mother was happy that I had found a good man and she seemed eager to meet him. I told her his name was Ian, but had not informed her of his full name, saving that for introductions. Ian was in the kitchen when we arrived. It was so awful. I’ve pinched myself for so long wanting it to all just go away! My heart is broken for good. Why do things have to happen to me this way? Why on earth would fate come along and ruin my life like this? You should have seen the look on Ian’s face when mother took his hand in hers after I introduced her to him. His usual smile went completely dead with a look I just can’t get out of my mind! He then began shooting these questions at her about her past. When he mentioned her working in some book shop, mother also started to tremble. They kept looking at one another…then he touched all of the scarring along her face. Dear God, they knew each other! He started telling her all about his war memories and leading her into the living room. He held her hands and told her something about looking for her when he got back from Africa? He said he couldn’t find her and was told she most likely had died in the bombing. He actually put on some old record of a song called "These Foolish Things." I suspect it was their song or something. Of course that made me feel just swell. Mother kept shaking and I didn't know what to do. Then she started to cry. She hugged Ian like she never wanted to let go of him! I stood there, frozen in some sort of time warp...it was terrible! Ian and my very own mother had been lovers and were almost engaged during the war! I had to get out of there, so I ran out into the rain and sobbed for hours…just walking along the river. I was soaked, it was after midnight, and I hailed a cab for my parents’ hotel, hoping to catch Daddy and ease the pain he probably was feeling…or was Mother back at the hotel yet? Maybe Ian had talked her into leaving Daddy? I was beside myself! I just couldn’t imagine how all of this had happened in our lives and how it was unfolding now, with me being the biggest sap and loser. Oh, how I wanted it to be one bad dream! How would my father ever accept news like this? He was so in love and protective towards Mother…he didn’t deserve any of this. When I reached their hotel room, Daddy opened the door. Mother was sitting on their bed and she ran over to me, hugging me with all of her might. She apologized to me and I looked over at Daddy, who was sort of smiling but was white as a sheet. Mother turned to hug him and both of them stood there waiting for me to say something. Mother’s term of endearment for him has always been "Don't you know I love you you big lug?” According to them, they were still very much in love and Ian Davies was only past history that Mother dearly needed to connect with in filling in those blank spaces. “Cathy, he’s so in love with you, honey. That was years ago! My goodness, your father and I love one another. He saved my life back then... and you’re the reason we’ve made our marriage work so well,” Mother told me. “Go back to Ian and be there for him. It’s your chance now. He’s been so good to you and I just know you and he can make something work.” Daddy nodded and motioned for me to leave. I did go back to our flat and Ian swore up and down to me that the shock of it all had made him react in such a manner. You should have seen the tears that came to his eyes as he pleaded for me to understand that I was the only woman he ever wanted in his life. He begged for the past to be forgotten and for me to accept our new lives as one. He inferred that I had been sent to London for a bigger reason that none of us would ever understand. He wouldn’t let me go... and I wanted to stay with him so badly…oh, you have no idea how much we loved each other. Then, right out of the blue, he told me to close my eyes. I told him I needed to pack and that I couldn’t stay knowing what had happened with my own mother! He just kissed me and shoved a little wrapped box into my hand. “Open it Catherine,” he told me. I didn’t want to, so he did it for me. Good grief! You should have seen the ring inside! It was a diamond like I’ve never seen before, surrounded by larger sapphires…three of them to be exact. It had been his mother's and he wanted me to have it now. He put it onto my finger and right then and there asked me to marry him. Oh, how I wanted to say yes and be his wife forever…but I just couldn’t. I handed back the ring and he stood there begging me to think about the love we had found with one another…and that if I left, he would never be the same person…that his heart would be broken again and he could not take that. I kept telling him that I needed to go back to the states and sort out my life. Too much had happened and that I knew things could never work out for us. He told me that I was dead wrong. “This ring will be waiting for you…and only for your return… with the answer that you WILL marry me, Catherine, and spend the rest of your life with me.” Myheart has never ever felt like this. Oh, how I did love this man. However, I did leave him…and I will never forget the look on his dear face. He drove me to Heathrow the next afternoon, and I can't get rid of the site of those tears rolling down that poor man’s face as I walked away through the gate.”
The letter above had been the letter that I had received…and have saved… all of these years from Cathy.
Postscript:
John Mahoney passed away in 1989 from a stroke. Elizabeth “Grace” Roberts Mahoney died in a nursing home just last summer. She suffered from severe Alzheimer’s. However, the portrait that she finally finished of a young man in uniform is now hanging in an art museum in Newark.
The last time I saw Cathy was at Kenny’s funeral in 2004…
THE END
‘And Still My Heart Has Wings, copyright 2008, Pam Munson Steadman
Until next time,
Pam
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