PAUL BRYAN'S JOURNAL
From the diary about this episode:
en route to San Framcisco
Wednesday, September 22
Hours go by, and still lots more before we land in San Francisco. Trying to study the charts for the Juan Les Pins Rally on Sunday, in case Pete needs me. I am so worried about him, but keep bringing out Kate's letter, and re-reading it.
Each time, the meaning seems to change as different words leap out at me - like LOVER - and the thought of her in the arms of another man …. But then, surely only a figure of speech, and she really wants me to be free, that's all ….
When I try and concentrate on the triumph of getting Janos out of Gervag instead, my mind just goes back to the frivolousness and lack of judgment that put him in there …. the kind of caution I would normally use in unknown situations - gone! Just praying that Pete will be all right, and not another casualty of my lunacy.
To cheer myself up I read Kathy Sloan's monthly letter. She thanked me with a thousand kiss marks for making her go to college, and loves it. Already has a “beau,” but promises he'll never be more than second to me.
After they threw the book at Sheriff Trumbell - assault, bribery, corruption, misuse of office, etc. etc. he's still awaiting trial in another jurisdiction, and Kathy says she'll keep me posted.
Watched that film many times, never thinking I'd so personally relate to Bogart's line, but of all the hotel lobbies in all the world, she had to walk into mine. On the arm of a tall blond guy. And wearing MY dress.
The Balmain evening gown I bought her in Paris. My eye went straight to her right hand, where she's been wearing my engagement ring sinceI left, but there it was still.
I am incensed, heartbroken, confused, outraged, sad, and wondering whether this thing had already started when she wrote to me. Is that why she sent the letter?
Was she with him when I couldn't reach her? Did she really go to Houston? Or is the whole thing a cover up for resumption of her affair with Armand? The whole time we were together, I knew there was always a possibility that she'd go back to him.
Or was this just a business thing? Middle of the week, it could be. It wasn't unusual for Kate to be escorted to certain kinds of functions by other men during our time together.
The expression on her face was quite neutral, and she wasn't even looking at him. But the way he glanced at HER before someone called out to him. It can't be anything else …. “qualities of a lover,” she wrote.
But she's still wearing our engagement ring. That has to mean something. I'd rather she hadn't caught my eye. Better she hadn't seen me some unpleasant shade of green.
The way she waved, a beckoning Maria wave that he didn't see. My response must have looked foolish. Little more than a small gesture before I turned and slipped out of the lobby, returning to my room in a fog.
Relieved to finally hear from Pete with a report on the aftermath of Janos' rescue. His first news was that we won the race, and that was probably a lot more significant, I think, than just a track victory.
Pete said he was questioned as soon as Janos disappeared (woken in the middle of the night), and again after the race car was hijacked, but when he won the final of the Kölön Tessra, he was left to leave as a hero.
Istvan had patterned the theft of the car on a gang that had been carrying out similar car jackings, and the ploy may have worked. The papers said they were responsible for another broad-daylight sports car robbery the next day.
Since Marika left the country in another direction, we're hoping that Janos' escape was linked to her and a shadowy unit that has been spiriting people out along the route she seemed to take before both disappeared. Pete said that there had already been gossip along this line among the other drivers.
He told the authorities that I'd said I intended to see a little of the country before the race, so when I don't turn up and officially leave, my name is bound to go on the black books.
But it's a relief to know that Pete got out OK. A big relief! Carlos Rey will be able to drive In the Juan Les Pins Rally, so it looks like I'll only be a spectator.
Thursday, September 23
Endured the usual tedious session of tests at Dr. Mason's, and he promised to get in touch about the results, but I replied my schedule was liquid after France, and I'd ring him.
Kate and I had both left messages for one another, and she rang again just as I came back from the doctor's, saying it was horrible to have seen me, and watched me vanish before her eyes.
…. How often we have found that the most casual remark takes on such a different meaning between us now. On our vacation together, we'd found a way of getting around this with wry smiles and a kiss, but now, the unintended pain of the remark hit both of us.
After a bit of a silence, I asked her if last night was an example of what she'd meant by starting a single life again, but she replied by asking why I hadn't come over to meet George.
I decided it was better not to say it was because I might have given him a punch, and she asked me if I agreed with the conclusions in her letter.
Then she hit me with something so incontrovertible that I couldn't even reply, telling me that the longer we were together on our trip, the more she saw sadness - her polite euphemism - in my eyes. The very reason I give for not staying with people who know, but in reverse.
Again her argument that we'd come to a point where her potential existence as a companion would deny me the freedom I needed to live the new life I'd built. If she weren't available, then I wouldn't be held back.
“I've got to at least try,” she pleaded, indicating that we needed to give this a couple months. and I could tell from the heightened quiver in her voice that she was on the edge.
NOW, my heart goes out to her, but at that moment raging emotions caused me to retaliate and say that might be all the time I had left.
Though quickly taken back, the damage was done, and Kate compounded it by saying very tenderly that, if that were the case, it was all the more important to have many experiences in that time, rather than just repeating the one of our vacation together.
When I advised that this was something better spoken of in person, Kate said she was just leaving for New York, and when I offered to take her to the airport, she said it was better not to.
Going to New York. She knew that I was supposed to arrive in San Francisco today. How could she be going to New York? Is that it?
Went to the firm to meet the new associate from Boston who's renting my house, and signed the papers with him. Another tie broken, so it was good to have an enriching and much-needed session of good humor and encouragement from David Gaffney, who's completely recovered from the heart attack.
At the country club before he arrived I ran into Jim Carlson who said that I must join him for a Padres game before the season was over, and we shook on it.
After a round of golf, had a great evening of reminiscing with Pete's Dad, and I was in a very sentimental mood - prey to every emotion in the book, from childhood memories of my father to the excitement of watching GB win a race. It was good to see him looking so well.
Message from Gene Mason waiting when I got back, saying that he wanted to see me before I left tomorrow morning. Couldn't let that ruin an important night's sleep and rang him, but he said it was only that he wanted to hand me something before I left.
en route to France / Juan Les Pins
Friday, September 24
Breakfast in my suite with Dr. Mason who said that I was still solid, but added that I'd picked up two more things in my system. He didn't know much yet, but said they looked isolated, and were probably the kind of item people carry around with them all their lives without ever knowing.
I tried to take this as a reassurance, but am just too down to care. Because of this “little development,” he said that he'd like me to see a doctor living down the coast from Barcelona, if I could manage to fit that into my schedule.
The man only treats the terminally ill …. and would have a special interest in the recent tests. Then Gene said he wants to see me in December, “just so we can stay on top of things.” I'm not going to try and interpret that, but I can count.
Marcella drove me to the airport, and brought along a letter that arrived in the morning mail. From my mother's family in Sicily, saying they're looking forward to my visit. I have to squeeze this in as soon as possible.
Pete met me at the airport, and immediately asked what was wrong, but let “just tired from the flight” suffice as an answer. Knowing I came from San Francisco, of course, he suspects it's Kate. We talked a lot about his Dad over a meal.
Then, as if it were an afterthought, he said, “by the way,” you'll want to get a FIA driver's license for the new season,” and handed me an application form, saying that the test could be done tomorrow after the race, while the international inspectors were on the spot.
Insisting it's just a formality, Pete said he already knew that I'd pass the examination with flying colors. I gaped, sure that he couldn't be right, and despite the time I'd spent behind the wheel, feel certain I couldn't pass any international test. And reading through the application form, I see that a medical was also required.
The crowd here is even more international than usual, and I met a fascinating Israeli girl named Lisa Sorrow who's not here for the race, but for gliding. Promised to go up with her tomorrow, time permitting
Juan Les Pins
Saturday, September 25
Rose surprisingly refreshed this morning, and determined to live for what I'm doing right now. Wasn't that what she wanted me to do?
Figuring that I can't do much about the driving test, at 8 am Lisa and I went gliding, and I'm trying to throw myself into this relationship, for what its worth. A little.
Morning testing was good, and Pete has driven the course so many times that everything went smoothly. He said that the roads were lined with people, as if it were the actual race.
We had lunch and I took in some of the afternoon qualifying before heading for the sky again, but surprisingly, Pete didn't do as well as we'd expected. Tomorrow will be another tale!
His date for dinner was a Spanish model who was working for the race sponsors, and we made it a four-some, Lisa bubbling over with talk about gliding, and entering a competition in America.
Juan Les Pins
Sunday, September 26
Lisa and I went gliding in the morning, and she's determined for me to join her in Arizona next month. She wants to enter a contest in the States, and study with a man who's supposed to be a fantastic teacher. Am I not?
We had a terrific vantage point for watching the race, and Pete's second place kept our good record going. The competition was keen, and for once he wasn't too unhappy not to get the winner's trophy.
Then came my big moment. The driving test. Pete was right. It was a piece of cake, only a formality. After the basic driving test, the track doctor listened to my heart and blood pressure, then signed my application. That was it. No swearing him to a secrecy pact.
I'm a racing driver!
After dinner I told Lisa that my plans were very uncertain, but that I'd try and meet her in Arizona, if I could. No promises. But I gave her Marcella's number, and said that she'd know.
A nice girl, but Pete thinks she's a spy. I died laughing at this, but he gave me The Look. I don't know why he singled her out from all the beautiful women swarming around us this weekend.
Monday - Wednesday, September 27 - 29
Flew to Barcelona, and got a train for San Patrazio to turn in Gene Mason's preliminary test report to Dr. Lamas, and make an appointment to see him. The town enchanted me soon as I walked out of the railway station, and I started eyeing hotels, each and every one of which beckoned.
Only a block from the station, the clinic was easy to find, and as I approached, couldn't help noticing a young woman in a red poncho coming out the door. She already had her back to me as I drew near, her head slightly bent as she walked away.
I remember my heart immediately going out to this little creature, even without seeing her face, thinking how awful it must be for someone so young. Like Julie Foster.
The receptionist informed me that Dr. Lamas had people coming to him from all over Europe and even farther afield, and she wasn't able to squeeze me in for a brief talk until Thursday. I left the folder with her, and she said Dr. Mason had rung and posted more documents.
There was an outdoor café just a little down the street, and the red poncho stood out among the tables. I was drawn there like a magnet. As it turned out, the only free place was at her table, so, walking up behind her, and then moving a little sideways, I asked if I might share it.
When she turned, and looked up at me, I experienced the most luminous moment of my life. It wasn't just the softness and radiance of her smile, but the radiance that filled my heart.
Trying to write this with a steady hand, but the words want to fill the page ahead of my pen.
Only moments in her company, and I was already feeling I had met the long-lost other half of me., the missing part that made me feel whole for the first time in my life.
I wasn't the only one. Perhaps it was the news she'd received from the doctor, but her dreamy, bedazzled countenance seemed totally directed at me.
When I told her I'd just arrived, and was going to look for a hotel, she immediately suggested her place above a cantina, and we just got up then and walked over there, rather in a trance, but after only minutes, certain of one another.
That night, the rapture that was ours made death seem impossible.
But how could I ever be able to put down in words what these two days with Nicole have been like. That she too is dying gives a heartbreaking poignancy to every minute we spend together. And to the ironic title of her book.
The hours with her would be precious were a lifetime stretching out before me, but telescoped into whatever is left to us, there is no substance in the world that could compare with their value.
Every touch born of desperation, the depths of tenderness and heights of passion are something I've never known. And each feeling, touch and thought returned by Nicole with equal intensity.
Thursday, September 30
I am confused and unsure, overjoyed and trying to put my head back in order. Originally, I'd expected my appointment with Dr. Lamas to be routine, but once I met Nicole, it couldn't possibly be.
Somehow the least interesting thing he had to say was that I'd picked up two new dormant things, one associated with East Africa and the other with Indochina.
JOURNAL CONTINUED IN
NEXT COLUMN (AFTER
Nicole sings a Jobim song in French
Nicole asks Paul if he is a spy
Mike tells Paul about a remote island
Paul promises to find Nicole again, if he can
Mike says that Paul is not an agent
Nicole learns Paul's secret
Nicole returns to wait for Paul
Paul asks Nicole to marry him
The landlady promises a fiesta in celebration
They talk about their wedding
The happy couple stand on a table
Paul struggles to tell Nicole about his future
Paul leaves his letter in Nicole's hand
Nicole says she could never hide her despair
Paul is deeply affected when Nicole rings
The effect of multiple elements in a terminal patient was his research specialty in addition to treating individuals, he informed me, but all I wanted to do is ask about Nicole, and finally blurted out the question a about her condition.
He gave me a bewildered look, and I said I knew that this was a matter of patient confidentiality, but I wanted to marry her. Dr. Lamas looked at me as puzzled as before, then finally asked me what ever gave me the impression that Mademoiselle Longet might be his patient.
When I answered that I'd seen her coming out of his practice on Monday, he began to shake his head, and said that he'd met her by chance in the square, and had asked if she might autograph his copy of The Sadness of a Happy Time.
“That's all?” I asked suspiciously, but he remained firm with his answer. So I turned around and asked, if it were Nicole wondering about me, might he not make a similar denial? I got only a shrug and a repeat of what he called the simple truth.
Wanted to walk out of there in a state of elation. She would live! But would she? And how does that change our relationship?
Nicole had driven to see another writer who had recommended this resort to her, so I went for a long walk on the beach to try and think this out, but remain muddled. What's important is that I love her with an intense passion. What we have together now is all that matters.
Friday , October 1
I could never have dreamt that all this could be mine. My hope for the future had been only to live for what a single day could give me or for individual acts that could make things better for the people who crossed my path.
But this much goodness is more than I could ever deserve. Today I overheard Nicole speaking to the landlady below, and signing a book for her, then mentioning the nice doctor she'd met in the square, who also asked her to autograph his copy. She IS all right!
Saturday, October 2
After a beautiful day together with an afternoon of joy complete, we decided to stay here another week and just paid the landlady when none other than Mike Allen walked into the cantina - right past me - despite my greeting.
Moments later he was injured in a shooting incident, and I rang the CIA man at the Barcelona Consulate for him.
Between afternoon and this evening, it's like a cold breeze has blown into our warm little paradise. Nicole seemed so different when we went for dinner.
Maybe it was only upset over the violence that came so close to us, but that sense of the world intruding is palpable. It's even making me think about what I'm doing here, and whether I can afford the relationship that has happened with Nicole.
Her entry into my life was like a lightning bolt that left me unable to think straight - and not wanting to.
Sunday, October 3
Went to see Mike in the hospital before Nicole woke, but he too was still asleep. The nurse said that he'd be released later in the day. Bright moment followed with a call from Pete saying that he'd come in second in Vienna, a race we'd targeted for the prize money. Despite having to replace the car, we're still in the black.
On the beach this morning, Nicole confronted me with the most ridiculous idea - that I was a spy. I don't even know why she figured Mike for an agent, but she has this bee in her bonnet, and nothing I could say would change her mind.
She said I should go see Mike, so I did - pondering the idea that Nicole did not believe me. It seemed just enough to let my foot touch the ground long enough to consider my situation.
What have I been thinking? Well, obviously, not at all. This love is something I can't really afford, and I made arrangements to leave with Mike for Barcelona.
After packing I waited for Nicole to return from some shopping, and told her that I had to leave, but when I could, if I could, I would find her again. In her foolish belief that I'm an agent, this sufficed for her, but my own pain and feeling of hollowness is boundless.
We took a late train for Barcelona, and I was glad that Mike allowed it to be in silence.
Monday, October 4
We got an early morning plane to Alicante, and a chopper to a quiet and semi-deserted island that Mike uses for R&R, but after a couple hours, I began to find his company oppressive.
Immoral, sanctimonious and pompous at the best of times, but when it comes to my illness, melodramatic, creepy and condescending in his supposed knowledge of my psyche. By the afternoon, I couldn't take any more of him, and ordered the helicopter for a flight back to Alicant.
Mike unctuously purported to understand the reason for my departure, but it seemed hardly worth my while to contradict him. Was lucky enough to get a connection for Rome, but sitting here alone in one of the most romantic cities in the world, right or wrong, I have to face what I've done, and go on with life - without Nicole - without the other half of me.
THE JOURNAL CONTINUES WITH THE EPISODES "Sequestro (Part 1)
" AND "Sequestro (Part 2)
" WHERE PAUL IS KIDNAPPED IN SICILY, BEFORE RESUMING 'THE SADNESS OF A HAPPY TIME' AFTER HIS RELEASE BELOW
FOLLOWING KIDNAPPING IN SICILY. JOURNAL RESUMES IN
NEXT COLUMN (AFTER
Paul is in Spain, enjoying a romance with French novelist Nicole Longet. Though she knows nothing behind his nomad lifestyle, they spend pleasant days together until an incident one night when American agent Mike Allen appears on the scene. Though Paul greets him, Mike passes without speaking. Later the American agent is involved in a shooting incident and wounded. When Mike tells Paul to call Bailey at the American consulate as he lies on the ground, Nicole decides that both men are US spies.
The next day on the beach, though Paul now denies knowing Mike Allen, Nicole says she knows that Paul has secretly gone to see him in the hospital. Paul makes light of this, but she replies, “even here it comes, that cold, quiet war, a war without armies, only soldiers like Mr. Bailey.” She says that Paul shouldn't deny that Mike Allen is his friend, one of the gray men who fight the silent war. Then she asks Paul if he too is one of these gray men, “one of the invisible army.” He says no, but Nicole responds that she was foolish to believe that they could remain totally alone and lost from the world,
Nicole adds that she knows that he must go see Mike Paul visits Mike in the hospital where he is recovering well from the gun shot, and planning to go to a primitive Spanish island to recuperate. Paul indicates an interest in the remote place, and Mike says they can meet in Barcelona that night to travel there together, if Paul wants to leave as quickly as that, and Paul grabs at the chance, saying that he's done something he can't afford to - fallen in love. When Nicole returns to the hotel she finds Paul's luggage packed, and asks if he would have left without saying goodbye if she hadn't come in just then.
She assumes that Mike Allen is the cause of the departure, but Paul denies this, and says that he can't tell her the reason. But she is sure that she knows why his life is not his own. “When I can …. If I can …. I'll find you again,” Paul responds, and asks if she'll be going back to Paris. She says that she might come back to this place to write her next book, adding that they bought many tomorrows from the land lady when they paid for another week's stay the day before. Referring a possible next novel, Nicole says she's just learned that, if it were possible to put into one word, what life is all about, the word would be goodbye.
Nicole flies to Berlin in search of Mike Allen, and finds him through the US consulate, asking him whether she'd see Paul again, and he rightly says that he has no idea. Nicole tells him that before she met Paul, she believed that individuals were all isolated from one another, but that she was wrong, and feels bound to him.
She says that she has no life without Paul, and needs to know if he left her because his work compelled him. Mike says that he can't help her, and Nicole leaves his office, saying that she is determined to find Paul.
Later, Mike goes to where Nicole is staying, and says that he can tell her where Paul is. When Mike explains that Paul is not a spy, Nicole faces the fact that he left only because of her, and says she needs to know the reason for his disappearance because she loves him. Mike confirms that Paul feels the same, and that is why he went away, so that he would remain a stranger among strangers. Mike goes on to say that Paul stayed with him at the remote Spanish island for only a half day, being unable to tolerate the presence of someone who cares about him, and knows about his secret.
Then Mike tells Nicole that Paul has only a year or so to live.
As she told Paul she would, Nicole returns to the pension in Spain where they were together. The land lady is overjoyed to see her, and says that Nicole will bring her good luck again. Entering the room where they stayed, she is haunted by the memory of Paul, but he, unable to stay away, is also making his way back to the same place. She busies herself with writing her new book, but is again striking out sentences when she hears the door opening. races to it, and falls into Paul's arms.
Paul tells Nicole that all the rules, and everything he had built his life on fell apart when he left her. She apologizes for her behavior when he left, and says it will never happen again, telling him that being there together is all that matters. He responds that there is something that must be said, even if it meant that they would never be the same again.
She is clearly fearing a declaration about his illness, but instead, Pauldeclares that he ran because he loves her, then says with great gravity, "I want to marry you, Nicole." She accepts joyously.
But that night, Paul is clearly tormented, as he tries to write a letter to her, again and again tearing the notepaper up, unable to put down the words he feels he needs to say to her before becoming his wife, the truth about his impending death.
The lines still unwritten or unsaid, the next morning Paul and Nicole visit the church to ask the priest to marry them the following day, and then bring delight to the landlady's heart when they tell her the news. She promises them a wedding banquet, a fiesta that night to celebrate their short engagement.
Nicole tells Paul that they don't have to marry in church, but he responds that exchanging vows before a priest seems more permanent than signing your name at the Mayor's office.
He asks her if she'd like to have any of her friends from Paris at the ceremony, but she replies that they'd say that she betrayed them.Paul tells her that the next time she sees them, she can tell them she can show them a sequel to her novel “The Sadness of a Happy Time,” to be called “Say Goodbye to Sorrow.”
Nicole says that she still believes in what she wrote, to live truly is to accept that there is always sadness, but that she was wrong in believing that she could live alone.
That evening there is a grand fiesta in the taverna, with much dancing and celebration of the happy couple. Paul and Nicole stand on a table, and are toasted by all. Paul tells the land lady that she has promised to dance for them, and she offers a toast of her own to “the morning of their lives” before all begin to dance again.
After Nicole has gone to bed, Paul again tries to write and tell her the truth he believes she must know before becoming his wife. Agonizing over false starts, he finally settles on a text, and takes the note to her room, and places it in her hand resting on the pillow beside her.
He goes out the next morning, and when he returns, Paul finds Nicole packing to go away, not for their honeymoon, but to leave him. When he asks her where she's going, she retorts sadly, “why did you have to tell me?” Then she says definitively, “we can't marry now.”
Picking up the letter he wrote, Paul answers hesitantly and with sorrow, “you see, Nicole, I couldn't marry you without ….” Then his mood changes, and crumpling the note, he asks angrily, “does it make that much difference?”
“I already knew,” she replies, and adds that she is aware of the fact that he can't be with someone who knows his secret, and was praying that he wouldn't tell her. She says that she must go for his sake, and that Paul must start living again as he did before. He responds that the old way of living was fine then, but not the only way.
He says there are other approaches to his situation, but Nicole insists, “I cannot do this to you, Paul, and I can't do it to myself.” She says that she would be unable to hide her despair, taking what joy might be found in the time he has left, adding that her presence would be a constant reminder, making it impossible for him to ever forget the awful truth. But she says what Paul did before, he can do again. To reinforce her argument, she points out that Paul only spent a half day with Mike Allen on the isolated island, ever seeing his fate in Mike's eyes. “No one can hide that,” she adds. “I can't.” Then she leaves the room - and his life.
Devastated, Paul picks up the telephone to make arrangements to leave himself, but when the land lady comes in to say that his bags are ready to be taken to the train, Paul says that he's changed his mind and decided to stay. He orders a bottle of brandy, but doesn't touch it.
Then the phone rings as dusk begins to fall. It is Nicole. He asks her where she is, hopeful she is returning, but she tells him she is in Madrid.
“I had to call you,” she falters, “to tell you what I couldn't say before I left. I love you.”
She repeats the words as he lets the phone slip, holding it to his face. As tears fall from her eyes, she says goodbye, also letting the receiver slip, her head falling against the phone.
Paul sets down the receiver, then picks it up again, and asks to have his train reservation reinstated
He looks around the room where they spent so many happy hours together, and as the sound of her singing fills his head, he leaves the room empty.
(Click link to see more)
Paul Bryan struggles to tell Nicole Longet about his illness
(AFTER KIDNAPPING IN SICILY)
Saturday, October 16
We visited the priest, and asked him to marry us tomorrow. It will be just the two of us and two witnesses. We've asked our landlady and Dr. Lamas.
The day has been as if all the badness of the unhappy times has dissolved away, and both of us tingled with excitement over the big event in our lives. Just gazing at one another, and unable to hold anything but a smile on our faces.
I bought Nicole an elegant white silk dress for the wedding, and though I saw it on the hanger, she refused to let me see her trying it on. Only a few hours to wait ….
Rang Pete, intending to inform him about the wedding tomorrow, then, for some reason …. well, a lot of reasons …. held back. I felt like a rat, not to tell one of my best friends since childhood, but had this feeling that we needed to keep our marriage a secret until after tomorrow.
But Pete didn't spare his news, a “disappointing” fourth at the Nürburgring, he said, and third in the Catalan Rally while I was in Sicily.
Taking aside the wonderful occasion, this champagne feeling was fabulous! There was a happy engagement party at the cantina, and that only magnified the good feelings.
It is already our wedding day, but now, I must compose the words to tell Nicole that I am dying. It will be a long night.
Sunday, October 17
And a long dark night is what the rest of my life will be.
When I met Nicole in the morning, instead of dressing for the wedding, she was packing. I thought we'd decided to stay here for the honeymoon, but didn't even get the chance to ask her about this when she said that she was already aware of what I'd written in the letter …. that Mike Allen had told her about the diagnosis - and she could not marry me.
Did she realize that she shot me dead with these words? Her reasons - so out of date from the way I feel now, the way I've learned to deal with what's ahead of me - were preposterous, surely something Mike Allen put in her head. Scoundrel!
Nothing I could say would stop her. She left without a kiss, without even an embrace. I felt so crushed that I couldn't move - not even lift a hand for hours. And her words, so directly resonating what Kate had said, but speaking of a time when my running was in panic, unable to face anything familiar.
I am beyond that now, alone - as alone as these women seem to want me to be. After sitting immovable till nearly dusk, the phone rang. It was Nicole, twisting the knife in my heart to say the goodbye and declaration of love that her abrupt flight hadn't allowed.
Nicole …. Nicole .... How I wanted to hear that she was coming back, but no, she was on her way to Madrid. I am going there now. Fate will decide everything for me. I feel sure that there will be a sign waiting for me there. A road sign telling this lost traveler which way to go.
Jo Swerling Jr.
Director of Photography
William Margulies A.S.C.
Howard E. Johnson
Robert Watts A.C.E.
Edward K. Dodds
John McCartey &
James M. Walters
Clarence E. Self
Color by Technicolor
Editorial Dept. Head
David J. O'Connell
Costumes by Burton Miller