The Story of RINA MARLOWE 6 page

She began to sob, her body trembling against him. The words kept tumbling from her lips in wild, disjointed sentences.

"Shh," he whispered soothingly, holding her. "Don't be afraid. Everything will be all right."

He heard the door open and close behind him. He turned his head slightly. Amru Singh was gone.

The following day, they went to the Inspector's office. From there, they went to her flat and moved her things to his apartment. Two nights later, when he had come into the apartment unexpectedly, Amru Singh rose from a chair.

"Amru Singh is my friend," Rina said hesitantly.

Jacques looked at her, then at the Indian. He stepped forward quickly, his hand outstretched. "If he is your friend," he said, "then he is my friend, also."

The Indian's white teeth flashed in a smile as their hands met in a warm clasp. From that time until now, the three of them had dinner together at least once a week.

Jacques turned the key in the door. He stepped aside to let Rina enter, then followed her into the bedroom. As soon as she entered, she kicked off her shoes. She sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her feet. "Ah, that feels good."

He knelt in front of her and massaged her foot. He smiled up at her. "You were very beautiful tonight."

She looked at him mischievously. "Monsieur le Ministre thought so," she teased. "He said if I should ever consider another liaison, to keep him in mind."

"The old lecher!" Jacques swore. "He must be all of eighty years old ‑ and at the Opera, too!"

She got up from the bed and took her dress off, then seated herself, yoga fashion, on the floor. Her legs were crossed under her, her arms formed a square in front of her chest.

"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise.

"Preparing for meditation," she answered. "Amru Singh says that five minutes' meditation before going to sleep relieves the mind and the body of all its tensions."

He removed the studs from his shirt and placed them on the dresser. He watched her in the mirror. "It would be very easy for me to become jealous of Amru Singh."

"That would make me very unhappy," she said seriously. "For then I would have to stop seeing Amru."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course," she said. "I love you. He is only my friend, my teacher."

"He is my friend, too," he said, as seriously. "I would be very unhappy if you let a jesting remark disturb that relationship."

She smiled. He smiled back at her and turned back to the dresser. He began to take off his shirt. "And what have you learned from our friend today?"

"There is a good possibility that I may soon be free of the death wish that has governed many of my actions since I was a child," she answered.

"Good," Jacques said. "And how is this to come about?"

"He is teaching me the yoga exercises for childbearing. It will give me control over my entire body."

"I don't see how that will help. The exercises are important only when having a child."

"I know," she said.

Something in her voice made him look at her in the mirror. Her face was impassive as she held the position of meditation. "What brought that subject up?" he asked.

Her eyes flicked up at him. "You," she said. "Doctor Fornay says that you have made me enceinte."

Suddenly, he was on the floor beside her, holding her in his arms and kissing her, talking of divorcing his wife so that the child would be born at the family villa in the south of France.

She placed a finger on his lips. It seemed to him as if she had suddenly become older than he. "Come, now," she said gently. "You are acting like an American, with stupid, provincial ideas. We both know that a divorce would ruin your career, so speak no more about it. I will have the child and we will go on as we are."

"But what if your father finds out?"

She smiled. "There is no need for him to know. When I go home for a visit, I will merely say I made an unfortunate marriage and no one will be the wiser."

She laughed and pushed him toward the bathroom. "Now go. Take your bath. You have had enough excitement for one day. Did you get the Boston papers for me?"

"They're in my brief case."

He sank into the tub. The water was warm and relaxing and gradually he could feel the excited tempo of his heart return to something that approximated normal. Slowly and with a feeling of great strength and luxury, he began to lather himself.

He came out of the bathroom, tying his robe. Rina wasn't in the bedroom and he walked through into the living room. Something in the way she was sitting at the table, staring down at the newspaper, sent a frightened chill racing through his body. "Rina!"

She turned toward him. Slowly her eyes lifted. He had never seen such depths of torture in his life. It was as if she had lost all hope of redemption. "I can't have the baby, Jacques," she whispered in an empty voice.

His voice grated in his throat. "What?"

The tears were beginning to well into her eyes. "I must go home," she whispered.

"Why?" he cried, the hurt already beginning.

She gestured to the paper, and he walked over and looked down over her shoulder.

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Date: 2015-12-24; view: 595