Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

He retorted, "You call it conscience. I could apply other names.”

She asked, curiously, "Other names like what?"

"For one: feminine hysteria. For another: phony, uninformed self-righteousness. Spitefulness at not getting your own way, so you quit.”

Sam glared as he went on.”Why, you're behaving no better than women who carry placards in the streets or chain themselves to fences. The truth is, you've been duped, made a sucker by that know-nothing bitch, Stavely.”

He motioned to that morning's New York Times, which lay open on his desk, turned to a news item featuring a statement by Dr. Maud Stavely who, too, had learned of the deformed baby cases in France and Spain and was using them in her own campaign to delay Montayne. Celia had read the Times story earlier. "What you just said isn't the truth," Celia insisted, "and I have not been duped.”

She decided to ignore the petty anti-feminist remarks. As if he had not heard Celia's disclaimer, he sneered, "Now, I suppose you'll go to join Stavely and her gang.”

"No," Celia said.”I'll be joining nothing, seeing no one, making no statement whatever about why I'm leaving.”

She added, in a voice she hoped was reasonable, "After all, I admitted yesterday that most of what I feel is instinct.”

Never before had she seen Sam in a mood so ugly. Despite it, she decided to make a last appeal, one final try. "I'd like to remind you," Celia said, "of something you once told me. It was when I was in London after we recruited Martin Peat-Smith.,' Earlier today, thinking about this meeting, she had remembered Sam's words when she managed to lure Martin into the Felding-Roth orbit after Sam had failed. Before it happened, Sam warned her against mentioning money to Martin, but Celia ignored the warning and it was money which, in the end, had tipped the balance where Martin was concerned. On learning the news, and an the telephone from Boonton, Sam declared, "If ever, someplace down the road, you and I differ on a matter of judgment that's important, you have my permission to remind me of this incident, and that your judgment was right and mine wrong.” She reminded him now, and it was as if she had addressed an iceberg. "Even if that's true," he snapped, "and though you say it is, I don't remember, it's merely proof your judgment has gone to pieces in the meantime.”

Suddenly, great sadness and emotion seized her, so she had difficulty in speaking, but managed to say, "Goodbye, Sam.”

He didn't answer.

At home, it seemed extraordinary to Celia that the act of leaving Felding-Roth had been so simple. She had merely cleared her desk of personal things, said goodbyes to her secretary and a few others in the office, some of whom had been tearful, then driven away. In a way, she supposed, her abrupt departure had been inconsiderate, but in another it had been essential. In recent weeks almost all of Celia's work had centered on Montayne, and since it was work she could no longer do in good conscience, staying on would have achieved nothing. There was also the fact that everything in her department was in order; therefore Bill Ingram, who would have taken over anyway in a few weeks' time, could move in at once without disruption. The thought reminded her that she would never, now, be a corporate vice president-a poignant disappointment since the cup had come so close. But, she told herself, it was a disappointment she would learn to live with. Andrew telephoned Celia twice during the day, first at her office, then later at home. On learning that her resignation had already taken effect, he announced he would be home early, and arrived in time for afternoon tea which Celia prepared. The experience was new for her. She supposed that from now on she would be doing it more often. They greeted each other lovingly. Soon after, as Andrew sipped his tea, he told her gently, "You need a rest from decisions, so I've taken some for us both. One is that you and I are going to live a little.”

He produced a large manila envelope.”I stopped at a travel agency on the way home, about one of my other decisions. We are going on a tour.”

"To where?" "To everywhere. A world tour.”

She threw up her hands.”Oh, Andrew, you're wonderful! You're a comfort just to be with.”

"Let's hope you feel that way after six months of togetherness on ships and in hotels.”

He began pulling brochures from the envelope.”To begin, I thought we'd fly to Europe, do some touring there-France, Spain, Italy, anywhere else that interests either one of us-then take a ship through the Mediterranean...”

Despite her depression from the past few days, Celia's spirits lifted. A world tour was something they had often talked about, but always vaguely, as something for the future. She thought: so why not now? Would there ever be a better time? Andrew-with a small boy's enthusiasm, she observed affectionately-was already making the idea come alive.”We should go to Egypt and Israel, then stop at the United Arab Emirates... India, of course... Japan's a must, so is Singapore... we have to include Australia and New Zealand She said, "It's a magnificent idea!" "Something I'll have to do," Andrew explained, "is get another doctor in the practice-a locum tenens-to help out while I'm away. That will probably take a month to arrange, so we can get away by March.”

There would be no problem concerning the children, both of them knew, because Lisa and Bruce had committed themselves to summer jobs away from home. They went on talking, Celia aware that the pain of today would inevitably return, and perhaps never disappear entirely, but at the moment-with Andrew's encouragement-she succeeded in pushing it away. Later that evening Andrew asked, "I know it's early, but have you given any thought to what you'll do now that you're through at Felding-Roth? I can't see you staying at home forever.”

"No," she said, "I'm sure I won't do that. But as for anything else, I just don't know. I need time to think-which you're giving to me, darling.”

That night they made love, not with grand passion but with a sweet gentleness in which Celia found peace.

During the several weeks that followed, Celia kept her word about making no public statement concerning the reason for her departure from Felding-Roth. Not surprisingly, news of her resignation filtered quickly through the industry and became known to the business press. There was a good deal of curiosity, which remained unsatisfied. The Wall Street Journal, Business Week, and New York Times all telephoned Celia, requesting interviews. She refused. She also politely turned aside questions from her own and Andrew's friends. Only to Lisa and Bruce did Celia confide everything, and that on Andrew's urging.”You owe it to them," he told her.”The children admire you, just as I do. They're entitled to know why they can go on doing that. They should not be left wondering.”

It meant special trips, to Stanford in the case of Lisa, and to Pottstown where Bruce was now in his junior year at the Hill School, and in a way the diversion was good for Celia. Her days were no longer active and filled. The adjustment to having more time on her hands than she could use did not come easily. Lisa was sympathetic but-practical.”You'll find something else to do, Mom, and whatever it is will be important. But the best thing that could happen right now is you and Daddy going on that world tour.”

But it was Bruce who, with a sensitivity beyond his years, summed up the situation best.”If you're comfortable with yourself, Mom... if, now that time's gone by, you're sure what you did was right, that's all that matters.”

After talking with both children, Celia decided that she was comfortable, and in that mood, in early March, flew from New York to Paris with Andrew for the beginning of their get-away-from-it-all odyssey.