Danielle Steel - Full circle

“What happened … ? my God!” She was looking at the bandage on Billy's eye. “Billy, will you be all right?”

“I guess.” He smiled sheepishly, and she noticed again what a handsome boy he was, although he had always looked less like his father and more like Marie. And suddenly the smile faded and he looked terrified. “Did you call Dad?”

Jean Roberts shook her head. “I didn't want to frighten him. They told me you were all right when they called, and I thought I'd take a good look at you both first myself.”

“Thanks.” He glanced over at Tana's dozing form and then shrugged almost nervously. “I'm sorry about … that I … we wrecked the car.…”

“The important thing is that neither of you were badly hurt.” She frowned as she looked at Tana's matted blond hair, but there was no longer any evidence of blood anywhere, and the nurse tried to explain how hysterical Tana had been.

“We gave her a sedative. She should sleep for a while.”

Jean Roberts frowned. “Was she drunk?” She already knew that Billy was, but there would be hell to pay if Tana was too, but the young nurse shook her head.

“I don't think she was. Mostly frightened, I think. She got a nasty little bump on the head, but nothing more than that. We don't see any evidence of concussion or whiplash, but I'd keep an eye on her.” And as she said the words, hearing them talking around her, Tana woke up, and she looked at her mother as though she had never seen her before, and then silently began to cry, as Jean took her in her arms and made gentle cooing sounds.

“It's all right, baby … it's all right.…”

She shook her head violently, taking great gulps of air, “No, it's not … it's not … he…” But Billy stood there staring at her, with an evil look in his eye, and she couldn't say the words. He looked as though he would hit her again, and she turned away, choking on her sobs, still feeling his eyes on her. She couldn't look at him again … couldn't see him … never wanted to see him again …

She lay on the backseat of the Mercedes her mother had driven out, and they took Billy home. And Jean was inside with him for a long time. They threw the last people out, made half a dozen others get out of the pool, tossed two couples out of Ann's bed, and told the group in the pool house to settle down, as Jean walked back to the car where Tana still was, she knew she had her week's work cut out for her. They had destroyed half the furniture, set fire to some of the plants, spoiled the upholstery, left spots on the rugs, and there was everything from plastic glasses to whole pineapples in the pool. She didn't want Arthur to even see the place until she had had it set to rights again. She got into the car with a long tired sigh, and glanced at Tana's still form. Her daughter seemed strangely calm now. The sedative had taken effect.

“Thank God they didn't go into Arthur's room.” She started the car, and Tana shook her head with a silent no, but she couldn't say the words. “Are you all right?” That was really all that mattered. They could have been killed. It was a miracle they hadn't been. It was all she could think of when the phone rang at three o'clock. She had already been worried sick for several hours, and instinctively, when she had heard the phone, she had known. And she had answered it on the first ring.

“How do you feel?” All she could do was stare at her mother and shake her head. “I want to go home.” The tears slid down her cheeks again, and Jean wondered again if she was drunk. It had obviously been a wild night, and Tana had been part of it. She also noticed that she wasn't wearing the same dress she'd been wearing when she left.

“Did you go for a swim?” She sat up, her head reeling, and shook her head, as her mother glanced at hei in the mirror and saw the strange look in Tana's eyes. “What happened to your dress?”

She spoke in a cold hard voice that didn't even sound like her to Jean's ears. “Billy tore it off.”

“He did what?” She looked surprised, and then smiled. “Did he throw you in the pool?” It was the only image she had of him, and even if he had been a little drunk, he was harmless enough. It was just damn lucky he hadn't hit the truck. It was a good lesson for them both. “I hope you learned a lesson tonight, Tan.” She began to sob again at the sound of the nickname Billy had used until finally Jean pulled off the road and stared at her. “What's happening to you? Are you drunk? Did you take drugs?” There was accusation in her voice, in her eyes, and none of that had been there when she drove Billy home. How unfair life was, Tana thought to herself. But her mother just didn't understand what Precious Littie Billy Durning had done. She looked straight into her mother's eyes.

“Billy raped me in his father's room.”

“Tana!” Jean Roberts looked horrified. “How can you say a thing like that? He would never do such a thing!” Her anger was at her own child, not at her lover's son. She couldn't believe a thing like that about Billy, and it was written all over her face as she glared at her only child. “That's a terrible thing to say.” It was a terrible thing to do. But Jean only stared at her.

Two lonely tears rolled relentlessly down Tana's cheeks. “He did.” Her face crumbled at the memory. “I … swear…” She was getting hysterical again as Jean turned and started the car, and this time she did not glance into the backseat again.

“I don't ever want to hear you say a thing like that again, about anyone.” Surely not someone they knew … a harmless boy they had known for half his life … she didn't even care to think about what would make Tana say a thing like that, jealousy perhaps of Billy himself, or Ann, or Arthur.… “I never want to hear you say that again. Is that clear?” But there was no answer from the backseat. Tana just sat there, looking glazed. She would never say it again. About anyone. Something inside her had just died.

The summer sped past Tana easily after that. She spent two weeks in New York, recuperating, while her mother went to work every day. And Jean was concerned about her, but in an odd, uncomfortable way. There seemed to be nothing wrong with her, but she would sit and stare into space, listening to nothing, not seeing her friends. She wouldn't answer the phone when Jean, or anyone else, called. Jean even mentioned it to Arthur at the end of the first week. She almost had the house in Greenwich put to rights again, and Billy and his friends had moved on to Malibu to visit other friends. They had all but destroyed the house at the pool, but the worst damage of all was a section of the rug in Arthur's room which looked as though it had been cut out with a knife. And Arthur had had plenty to say to his son about that.

“What kind of savages are all of you? I ought to be sending you to West Point instead of Princeton for chris-sake so they can teach you a thing or two about how to behave. My God, in my day, no one I'd ever known would behave like that. Did you see that carpeting? They tore the whole damn thing up.” Billy had looked both subdued and chagrined.

“I'm sorry, Dad. Things got a little out of hand.”

“A little? And it's a wonder you and the Roberts girl weren't killed.” But on the whole he'd been all right. His eye was still bothering him a little when he left, but the stitches on the eyebrow had already been removed. And he still seemed to be out every night right up until they left for Malibu. “Damn wild kids…” Arthur had growled at her. “How's Tana now?” She had mentioned to Arthur several times how oddly Tana had behaved, and she really wondered if she hadn't had a worse blow on the head than they had first thought.