Джеффри Арчер - The Prodigal Daughter

When the weekend came it was memorable. The New York Philharmonic, Dial M for Murder — Jessie even seemed to enjoy the New York Knicks. Richard reluctantly returned to Harvard on Sunday night. The next four months were going to be long weeks and short weekends. He phoned Jessie every day and they were rarely apart on weekends. He began to dread Mondays.

During the Monday morning lecture on the crash of 1929, Richard found he couldn’t concentrate. How was he going to explain to his father that he had fallen in love with a girl who worked behind the gloves, scarves and woolen hats counter at Bloomingdale’s? Even he couldn’t understand why such a bright, attractive girl could be so unambitious. If only Jessie had been given the opportunities he had had... He scribbled her name on the top of his class notes. His father was going to have to learn to live with it. He stared at what he had written: ‘Jessie Kane.’

When Richard arrived back in New York that weekend, he made an excuse to his mother about running out of razor blades. His mother suggested that he use his father’s.

‘No, no, it’s all right,’ said Richard. ‘I need some of my own. In any case, we don’t use the same brand.’

Kate Kane thought this was strange because she knew they did.

Richard almost ran the eight blocks to Bloomingdale’s. When he reached the glove counter, Jessie was nowhere to be seen. Maisie was standing in a corner filing her fingernails.

‘Is Jessie around?’ he asked her breathlessly.

‘No, she’s already gone home — she left a few minutes ago. She can’t have gone far. Aren’t you...?’

Richard ran out to Lexington Avenue. He searched for Jessie’s face among the figures hurrying along. He would have given up if he hadn’t recognized the flash of red, a scarf he had given her. She was on the other side of the street, turning toward Fifth Avenue. Her apartment was in the opposite direction; somewhat guiltily he decided to follow her. When she reached Scribner’s at Forty-eighth Street, he stopped and watched her go into the bookshop. If she wanted something to read, surely she could have picked it up at Bloomingdale’s? He was puzzled. He peered through the window as Jessie talked to a sales clerk, who left her for a few moments and then returned with two books. He could just make out their titles: The Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith and Inside Russia Today by John Gunther. Jessie signed for them — which surprised Richard — and left as he ducked around the corner.

‘Who is she?’ said Richard out loud as he watched her double back and enter Bendel’s. The doorman saluted respectfully, leaving a distinct impression of recognition. Once again Richard peered through the window to see saleswomen fluttering around Jessie with more than casual respect. An older lady appeared with a package, which Jessie had obviously been expecting. She opened it to reveal a full-length evening dress in red. Jessie smiled and nodded as the saleslady placed the dress in a brown and white box. Then mouthing the words ‘Thank you,’ Jessie turned toward the door without even signing for her purchase. Richard barely managed to avoid colliding with her as she hastened out of the store to jump into a cab.

He grabbed a taxi that an old lady had originally thought was hers and told the driver to follow Jessie’s cab. ‘Like the movies, isn’t it?’ said the driver. Richard didn’t reply. When the cab passed the small apartment house outside of which Richard and Jessie normally parted, he began to feel queasy. The taxi in front continued for another hundred yards and came to a halt outside a dazzling new apartment house complete with a uniformed doorman, who was quick to open the door for Jessie. With astonishment and anger Richard jumped out of his cab and started to make his way up to the door through which she had disappeared.

‘That’ll be ninety-five cents, fella,’ said a voice behind him.

‘Oh, sorry,’ said Richard. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out a note, hurriedly pushing it at the cab driver, not thinking about the change.

‘Thanks, buddy,’ said the driver, clutching on to the five-dollar bill. ‘Someone sure is happy today.’

Richard hurried through the door of the building and managed to catch Jessie at the elevator. He followed her into the elevator. She stared at him but didn’t speak.

‘Who are you?’ demanded Richard as the elevator door closed. The other two occupants stared in front of them with a look of studied indifference as the elevator glided up to the second floor.

‘Richard,’ she stammered. ‘I was going to tell you everything this evening. I never seemed to find the right opportunity.’

‘Like hell you were going to tell me,’ he said, following her out of the elevator toward an apartment. ‘Stringing me along with a pack of lies for nearly three months. Well, now the time has come for the truth.’

He pushed his way past her brusquely as she opened the door. He looked beyond her into the apartment while she stood helplessly in the passageway. At the end of the entrance hall there was a large living room with a fine Oriental rug and a magnificent Georgian bureau. A handsome grandfather clock stood opposite a side table on which there was a bowl of fresh anemones. The room was impressive even by the standards of Richard’s own home.

‘Nice place you’ve got yourself for a salesgirl,’ he said sharply. ‘I wonder which of your lovers pays for this.’

Jessie took a pace toward him and slapped him so hard that her own palm stung. ‘How dare you?’ she said. ‘Get out of my home.’

As she said the words, she started to cry. Richard took her in his arms.

‘Oh, God, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘That was a terrible thing to suggest. Please forgive me. It’s just that I love you so much and imagined I knew you so well, and now I find I don’t know a thing about you.’

‘Richard, I love you too and I’m sorry I hit you. I didn’t want to deceive you, but there’s no one else — I promise you that.’ She touched his cheek.

‘It was the least I deserved,’ he said as he kissed her.

Clasped tightly in one another’s arms, they sank onto the sofa and for some moments remained almost motionless. Gently he stroked her hair until her tears subsided. Jessie slipped her fingers through the gap between his two top shirt buttons.

‘Do you want to sleep with me?’ she asked quietly.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘I want to stay awake with you all night.’

Without speaking further, they undressed and made love, gently and shyly at first, afraid to hurt each other, desperately trying to please. Finally, with her head on his shoulder, they talked.

‘I love you,’ said Richard. ‘I have since the first moment I saw you. Will you marry me? Because I don’t give a damn who you are, Jessie, or what you do, but I know I must spend the rest of my life with you.’

‘I want to marry you too, Richard, but first I have to tell you the truth.’

She pulled Richard’s jacket over her naked body as he lay silent waiting for her to speak.

‘My name is Florentyna Rosnovski,’ she began, and then told Richard everything about herself. Florentyna explained why she had taken the name of Jessie Kovats — so that she would be treated like any other salesgirl while she learned the trade, and not like the daughter of the Chicago Baron. Richard never spoke once during her revelation and remained silent when she came to the end.

‘Have you stopped loving me already?’ she asked. ‘Now that you know who I really am?’

‘Darling,’ said Richard very quietly. ‘My father hates your father.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that the only time I ever heard your father’s name mentioned in his presence, he flew completely off the handle, saying your father’s sole purpose in life seemed to be a desire to ruin the Kane family.’