Danielle Steel - Remembrance

Vanessa said nothing and her eyes looked enormous in her face. Vasili reeled toward Serena then, still standing in the doorway. “What did you do? Tell her I was drunk?” He spat the words at her and Serena's eyes began to blaze.

“Aren't you?”

“No, you asshole, I'm not.”

“Vasili!” Serena was shouting now. “Get out of Vanessa's room!”

“Why, afraid I'll do something that will make you jealous?”

“Vasili!” It was the growl of a mother lion and he wheeled and left the room. He went down to the kitchen then, raided the icebox, and returned to their bedroom again, like an animal on the prowl.

“Want to fuck?” He looked at her over his shoulder as he picked at a plate of cold potatoes he had found in the icebox. The question seemed more rhetorical than real and Serena wanted to shake him.

“What in God's name is wrong with you? Did you take more pills?”

He shook his head. “Nope. What about you? Did you?” It was impossible to talk to him, and a few minutes later she locked herself in Vanessa's room with the child, and spent the night there.

The next morning he slept until almost noon, and when he finally came downstairs, it was evident that he was both ashamed and ill.

“Serena …” He looked at her, overwhelmed with remorse. “I'm sorry.”

“You should be.” She looked at him coldly. “And you owe an apology to Vanessa. Just what exactly happened to you last night?” It was as though he had gone crazy.

“I don't know.” He hung his head. “I had a few drinks. They must have reacted strangely. It won't happen again.” But it did. In almost precisely the same manner, once the following week, and twice the week after that. On Vanessa's birthday he was the worst he had ever been, and two days after that he disappeared for an entire night. It was as though he had gone totally berserk in the past month, and Serena couldn't understand it. He was like a totally different man from the one she had first met. He was angry, hostile, gloomy, vicious, and the mood came upon him more and more often. He spent the night at his studio now and then, and shouted at her when she asked for an explanation. And it made her more frantic yet when two days before Christmas she went to the doctor to discuss several minor problems she was having, which included nausea, vomiting, dizzy spells, headaches, insomnia, and all of it, she knew, was due to her nerves. It was exhausting to try and shield Vanessa from what was happening, and she was seriously thinking about going home to the States.

“Mrs. Arbus,” the doctor said, looking at her kindly, “I don't think your nerves are the problem.”

“They're not?” Could it be serious, then?

“You're pregnant.”

“Oh, my God.” She hadn't even thought of that.

That night she sat looking distracted and unhappy, staring into the fire in their den. Vasili was home and he was strangely subdued, but she didn't want to tell him. Abortions weren't totally impossible in London, and she hadn't decided what should be done.

“Tired?” He had been trying for half an hour to strike up a conversation, and she only nodded.

“Yes.” She still wouldn't look at him, and at last he came and sat next to her and touched her arm.

“Serena, it's been awful, hasn't it?”

She turned huge sad eyes up to his and nodded. “Yes, it has. I don't understand it. It's as though you're not yourself.”

“I'm not.” It was as though he knew something she didn't. “But I'll change that. I promise. I'll stay here with you and Vanessa until Christmas, and then I'll go somewhere and straighten out. I swear.” His eyes were as sad as hers.

“Vasili …” Serena looked at him hauntingly. “What happened? I don't understand.”

“You don't need to understand. It's something that never has to be a part of your life.” She wanted to ask him then if it was drugs but she didn't dare. “I'll take care of it, and I'll be the man you met in New York.” He nuzzled her neck gently and she wanted to believe him. She had missed him so much and she had been so frightened. “Do you want to do something special for Christmas?” She shook her head. He hadn't even been aware enough to notice how ill she was feeling.

“Why don't we just stay home?”

“What about Vanessa?”

“I've already got something planned for her.”

“What about us? Do you want to go to some parties?”

She shook her head, disinterested, withdrawn, unhappy, and it killed him to see her like that. “Serena, darling … please … everything will be all right.” She looked at him then, more confused than ever. He was so loving, so gentle, so understanding. How could he turn into that other man? “Why don't we go to bed? You look exhausted.”

She sighed softly. “I am.” But after he thought she was asleep, he was in the bathroom for hours, and when she got up again to go to the bathroom once he had finally come out of it, she walked in and let out a scream. On the sink, next to a blood-stained ball of cotton, lay a hypodermic needle, a match, and a spoon. “Oh, my God!” She wasn't even sure what she was seeing, but she knew that it was something awful, and little by little, as she stood there, the light dawned. She remembered what Teddy had told her about Vasili's last wife … heroin … and suddenly knew that that was what she was seeing.

And suddenly she sensed also that he was standing right behind her, she could almost hear him breathing, and when she turned around, he was leaning against the wall, almost falling, his eyelids drooping, with a look of pallor that made him look as though he were about to die. Terrified, she began to whimper and shrank from him, as he lurched toward her, muttering at her about what the hell was she doing, snooping. Terrified, she ran out of the room.

42

The morning of Christmas Eve Serena sat across the dining table from Vasili, and with a pale face and shaking hands she set down her cup. They were alone in the dining room and the doors were closed. Vasili looked as though he had been embalmed only that morning, and he did not attempt to meet her eyes.

“I want you to know that I'm going back to the States the day after Christmas. I'd leave tonight, except that it would upset Vanessa. Just stay away from me until I go, and everything will be fine.”

“I understand perfectly.” He actually hung his head in shame, and she wanted to hit him for what he had done, for what he was doing, to himself as well as to her. She couldn't even think of what was happening in her own body. She hadn't had time to think of it all day. She'd have to make arrangements for an abortion when she got back to New York, maybe Teddy would even help her, but she didn't want to waste time here. She just wanted to go home.

She got up from the table then, and suddenly, as she walked toward the door, the whole room spun around her, and a moment later she awoke lying on the floor. Vasili was kneeling beside her, looking at her in terror, shouting at the maid for a damp cloth to put on her head. “Serena! … Serena! … oh, Serena …” He was crying as he knelt beside her and Serena felt tears spring to her own eyes as well. She wanted to reach up and hold her arms out to him, but she couldn't do it. She had to be strong. She had to leave him, and leave London, and get rid of their child. “Oh, my darling, what happened? I'll call the doctor.”

“Don't!” Her voice was still weak and the room spun as she shook her head. “I'm all right.” It was a whisper. “I'll get up in a minute.” But when she did, she looked sicker than he.