Triangle, p.19
Triangle, page 19
“I think we should sell it. We don’t need this house anymore. Lizzie and I want to get a small apartment where we can stay between shows, with room for the boys, of course.”
“I was thinking along those lines too,” he admitted, as Lizzie walked into the room and saw them holding hands. Her face went pale and grew instantly serious as Stephanie smiled at her from her wheelchair, and Olivier stood up, patted Lizzie’s shoulder, and left to go to his own room, so Stephanie could talk to Lizzie and tell her the news.
Olivier sat down on his bed when he got to his room. His head was spinning and felt like it was going to explode. He wondered why he had never suspected the truth about Stephanie. She had covered it well, but he had lived with her for twenty-six years and it had never occurred to him. Her parents would have been devastated, but they were too far gone now to know or care, and it all made sense. And Lizzie was a good person. She and Stephanie had already withstood the test of time with each other. And now they could enjoy the rest of it together, without lying and hiding. He suspected that his sons would be shocked at first, but they might not be. Theirs was an entirely different generation with different views of what the norms were. Olivier’s world would be shocked, but he didn’t care. And Stephanie’s world wouldn’t be. She had built her parallel life well, and the people in her world would embrace her with open arms and celebrate her. He was impressed by how brave she was, and how brave she had just been with him. More than ever, he respected and admired the woman he had married, and he actually loved her. It hadn’t been an entirely loveless marriage after all.
* * *
—
As soon as Olivier left the room, after patting Lizzie’s shoulder, she looked at Stephanie with terror in her eyes. She had seen them holding hands when she came through the doorway, before he stood up. She approached Stephanie with caution, bracing for bad news.
“What just happened while we were out? Are you going to stay with him?” Stephanie had recently promised her she would ask him for a divorce at the right time.
“No. I told him about us. I told him the truth about all of it, all the way back to the beginning.”
“What did he say?” Lizzie sank slowly into the chair Olivier had been sitting in.
“He was wonderful. He’s probably the best man I’ll ever know. We wasted a ridiculous number of years lying to each other and ourselves. And I wasted years for you and me too.”
“You didn’t waste them. We’ve been together all this time. You really only lied to him.”
“And our boys. He was terrific about it. It made everything make sense to him.” Stephanie smiled at Lizzie then. It had been an emotional afternoon. “He wants to give me away at our wedding. Or both of us, if you want.” Lizzie was suddenly beaming as tears spilled down her cheeks. She had waited twenty years for this, since she was a teenager. Her parents had never forgiven her, but Stephanie had been everything to her. Mother, sister, lover, friend, and even mentor. Stephanie had been her whole world, and now they could come out of the shadows into the light of day.
“He’s in love with someone too. It’s not working out for the moment, but maybe he can get her back now. She left him because he’s married. He won’t be for long. I’ll get things started now. I’ll call the lawyer on Monday.” Lizzie leaned close to Stephanie and put her head on her shoulder, and Stephanie put an arm around her. “I told you it would work out in the end.” Lizzie had been worried.
“What made you tell him today?” she asked her.
“I have no idea. It just felt like the right time, and it was. How were the horses?”
“Restless. Bored. Like the rest of us.” Lizzie glanced out the window into the garden as she said it, and smiled. She rushed to push Stephanie’s wheelchair to the window, and there over the Paris sky was the biggest rainbow they had ever seen. “It’s a sign,” she said breathlessly, as Stephanie smiled at her, pulled her gently into the wheelchair with her, and kissed her.
Chapter 15
Olivier went for another walk after his long conversation with Stephanie. The rain had stopped and he needed some air. He was smiling as he walked along and saw the rainbow overhead. Stephanie had answered all his questions and explained everything. Their entire history made sense to him now. And what he wanted to do next was tell Amanda. Stephanie had taken the decision out of his hands and given him an immeasurable gift: an honest future to make up for their dishonest past. He only wished now that they had done it sooner.
He called Amanda from his cellphone while he was walking. It went straight to voicemail, and he left her a message that he had something urgent to tell her. In view of recent history, he doubted that she’d call him. He tried her again on the way back to the house, and texted her when he got home. Veronique was cooking dinner, and there was a celebratory atmosphere. Lizzie had told the others what had happened. All three of them smiled at Olivier, and he waved, as he headed up the stairs to his bedroom and called Amanda again. He sent her an email and said he needed to speak to her urgently. He had a feeling that nothing he said or wrote to her would induce her to call him. He had left her alone for a few weeks after pelting her with messages before that. Nothing had persuaded her to call him. She was determined to stay on her path and ignore him, and had shut him out.
Olivier was excited and wanted to share all the news with her. After he sent the email, he decided not to wait for a response but to go to her house and tell her. It was the only way he would get her to listen.
He told Stephanie he was going out, mostly out of habit, and she could guess where he was going. She called out to him as he rushed down the stairs.
“Good luck!”
“Thank you!” he shouted back, and poked his head into the kitchen. “I’m out for dinner, I think,” he said to the Three Musketeers with a grin. “Leave me some leftovers just in case. It smells delicious.” He realized that he was going to miss them when they left, once Stephanie was walking again. He’d miss her too, after more than half a lifetime with her, even though they didn’t see each other often. But there would be holidays and family events with the boys, and he didn’t see why they couldn’t still spend them together. And Lizzie was always with them anyway.
He drove his car out of the garage and headed toward Amanda’s apartment. She might be out, or refuse to let him in, but he had to try. Otherwise, he would have Pascal call her and tell her he was getting divorced, but he wanted to give her the news himself, if he could gain access to her, which wasn’t a sure thing.
He parked half a block away from her building. It was the only spot he could find. It was already dark, and as he approached the building, he saw a shadow move on the façade. He stopped to look more carefully and realized it wasn’t a shadow, it was a man, in black pants and a black sweater, a knitted hood and mask and black gloves. Not an inch of flesh was showing as he carefully made his way up the façade using the hand- and footholds that had been used before. Olivier couldn’t see who the man was, but he was agile and scaling the building quickly. Olivier paused to look where he would stop, as he got a grip on Amanda’s balcony, and leapt easily onto it. He was holding something that he used to smash the window. All her lights were on, so Olivier assumed that she was home.
Olivier didn’t waste any time as he rushed at the front door with the code panel. He pressed all the correct numbers and it opened, and he raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time at full speed while calling the police on his cellphone. They answered immediately and he told them where he was, Amanda’s name, and what was happening. His stomach turned over as he backed up to kick in her apartment door. He didn’t have a key, and there was no other way to get in.
* * *
—
Amanda was in a pink terry-cloth robe tied tightly around her as she walked into her bedroom, her hair wet. She hadn’t set the alarm yet for the night, and she was beginning to feel safe in her apartment again. She’d been in the shower when the intruder broke the window, climbed in, and took his hat and mask off. He was waiting for her in the middle of the bedroom, as Amanda saw him and gave a start. It was Tom.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” she said, shaking and trying not to show it, as he walked slowly toward her, his face contorted by rage. Lulu was barking frantically at him and he paid no attention to her.
“I wasn’t good enough for you, Amanda, was I? But he was. I know what you did with him. I saw how often he was here. You’re a whore, that’s all you are. I know how many nights he slept here.” He advanced on her as she backed away. She felt in the pocket of her robe for the panic button but it was behind him on the dresser and she couldn’t get to it. She wanted to run into her bathroom and lock the door, but it would mean leaving Lulu with him, and she was afraid he would kill the dog. And as she thought it, he pulled a long switchblade out of his pocket and flashed it at Amanda. “Remember how the book ends, and what happens to the girl he loved. He kills her. Just like I’m going to kill you now. But first I’m going to show you what love feels like.” He put the switchblade back in his pocket, took another step toward her, and slapped her hard across the face. She could taste blood when he did, and with a single gesture he untied her robe, and with two hands threw her on the bed and climbed on top of her with his full weight, fully intending to rape her. She was lying naked beneath him, trying to fight him off with her legs and feet as he pinned her arms down with his hands. He reached down to push his pants down, and as he did there was a crashing sound, and suddenly two powerful arms and a towering figure pulled him off her, and he flew backward. Amanda saw Olivier’s face as he knocked Tom down, and faster than light, Tom was on his feet again, with the blade of his switchblade flashing. Olivier had a grip on him, and Tom slashed at his arm to free himself, and suddenly there was blood everywhere, and at lightning speed, Tom turned and lunged at Amanda to slash her, and his blade cut into her thigh. Olivier grabbed Tom and knocked him to the floor then, pinning him down with his full weight as four police officers ran through her open front door and into her bedroom with guns drawn and took over. In less than a minute they had Tom in handcuffs down on the floor with his arms behind him. He was shouting obscenities at Olivier and Amanda and trying to kick the police officers, who tied his legs together so he couldn’t move. There was a pool of blood on Amanda’s bedroom floor, as she stood naked with blood gushing from her thigh. One of the officers covered her with her robe and sat her on the bed, as two others tended to Olivier. His shirt drenched in blood, he was still conscious, talking to the police. Tom had cut his arm but not his chest. And Lulu was cowering in the corner, whimpering, as the fourth officer called for emergency medical services, the SAMU.
Tom rolled so he could see Amanda, sitting on the bed in shock, and shouted at her. “I should have killed you. You’re a bitch! You always were. You deserve to die!” His words were so venomous and his face so contorted with fury that she almost didn’t recognize him. He had cut his arm when he broke the window, and he was bleeding too. It was a scene of carnage in her bedroom.
Olivier looked over at Amanda and saw her bleeding on the bed, her legs covered in blood, her robe and his shirt drenched with it.
“Are you okay?” he asked her in a weak voice, and she nodded, too traumatized to speak, and within minutes, the room was filled with the emergency medical teams. Tom had been removed, and they put Olivier and Amanda on two gurneys and carried them downstairs to the ambulance. The street was full of police cars and flashing lights. Amanda asked about her dog, and one of the officers said she was fine, and they had left her in the kitchen of the apartment and locked the door. And then they closed the ambulance doors and sped away to the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital, taking them both to the trauma unit to be assessed for their injuries. Tom had been taken straight to jail, and if he needed stitches for the cuts on his hands from the broken window, they would stitch him up there.
The doctors were applying pressure to Olivier’s arm while they examined him, and a detective was asking him questions. He had an IV in his other arm, and he kept looking over at Amanda and asking if she was okay.
They stitched them up and gave them tetanus shots, assessing their injuries as deep flesh wounds. Olivier and Amanda both required stitches but no nerves or ligaments had been cut, no arteries had been hit. They were told that they were very lucky.
The detective questioned Amanda too, and she gave him all the background. It was clear now that Tom had been her erotomaniac all along, and had also done the first two break-ins since they were identical in style. And he had probably left the gutted fish in the florist box.
They kept Amanda and Olivier for observation overnight, until nine o’clock the next morning, and two police officers took them back to her apartment in a police car. The nurses gave them hospital pajamas to go home in. Amanda had no clothes with her, and Olivier’s were cut from the switchblade and covered in blood, and had been taken into evidence. Amanda and Olivier were told there would be no lasting damage from their injuries. Their wounds had bled a lot, but there was no significant blood loss that required transfusions.
The detective who had questioned Amanda told her that Olivier had saved her. If he hadn’t called the police and broken the door down before they got there, Tom would have raped and killed her. He had admitted as much to the police and said she deserved it.
The police had locked the door to the apartment when they left, and they got the key from the guardian when they returned. They walked Olivier and Amanda into the apartment, brought them each a glass of water, pulled the blood-soaked sheets off the bed and let them lie down, and then freed Lulu from the kitchen. She immediately came to find Amanda, who picked her up, and Lulu licked her face, happy to see her. Before they left, the police officers made sure that Amanda and Olivier were doing all right, and informed them that a criminal investigation unit would come by to see them that afternoon with further questions and information, and that a follow-up medical team would come to check their wounds. And then the officers left.
Olivier and Amanda lay on her bed with a blanket over them, with the broken window, and felt like they had been washed up on the beach after a shipwreck. And Lulu lay next to her.
“Wow, how did all that happen?” Amanda asked Olivier. He wanted to put an arm around her, but he couldn’t, since his left arm was bandaged and in a sling. “I came out of the bathroom and there he was, dressed like a cat burglar, and he slapped me and grabbed me. He was going to rape me. And then kill me. And what were you doing here?” They were both pale, but fully aware of what had happened and how fortunate they were that Tom hadn’t killed them both.
“I came to tell you that I’m getting divorced, since you didn’t answer any of my texts or messages, and when I got here I saw him crawling up the building and climbing onto your balcony. I could guess the rest. I called the police while I rushed up the stairs and kicked in the apartment door when he was about to rape you.”
“He really is insane,” Amanda said in an awestruck voice. “He was my stalker all along. And I don’t think he found me by accident. I think he came to Paris looking for me, to settle an old score, for ending it with him twenty years ago.”
“That’s a horrifying thought,” Olivier said, still feeling weak. It had been a shocking night.
“Why did you tell your wife you wanted a divorce?” she asked him. “Did you tell her about me?”
“I didn’t, and yes, in that order. I was waiting until she had recovered from her accident, but she told me she was divorcing me. She explained twenty-six years to me in less than two hours. She agrees that we should have divorced years ago. She’s gay, and she’s been in love with one of her riding partners for twenty years, but she knew before that, before she even married me. She just never told me, or her family. The riding partner is a really lovely woman. They’re getting married. And after that, I told Stephanie about you.” Amanda was lying on her side on the bloodstained mattress and staring at him.
“Oh my God, what did you say to her when she told you?”
“I was grateful. It explained everything. She doesn’t want to live a lie anymore, and neither do I. I would have asked her for a divorce in a month or two anyway. You’ll never know how much I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she said softly. “How did this craziness ever happen with Tom Quinlan?”
“There are some bad people out there,” he said, and touched her with his good arm. Her leg was throbbing but she didn’t care. Olivier was back, and he had saved her.
He lifted Lulu up with his good hand, and placed her between them, whimpering, as Amanda stroked her, and Olivier leaned toward Amanda and kissed her.
“What do you think will happen to Tom now?” she asked him as they lay there, catching up on everything they’d missed and the highlights of the last twenty-four hours, which were life-altering.
“He’ll probably be charged with two counts of attempted murder and serve time in France. They don’t extradite to the U.S. here. He looked like such a nice, normal guy.”
They lay on the bed together for a while, thinking about all of it, and she called Pascal and told him what had happened. He was horrified.
“Oh my God, are you two okay? Why aren’t you in the hospital?”
“They stitched us up and let us go this morning. They’re coming to check on us later. We’re all right, just kind of shell-shocked.”
“Do you have food there?”
