Louis opened the drapes, forced himself not to back off, not this time. "Shall I tell Dr. Franks perhaps tomorrow?"
"Oh, I don't know. Is Anne Marie in?"
Louis crossed over to her and took her hand. "Come and sit down. I'll get Hilda and Anne Marie, but first we need to talk."
She sat on the dressing table stool, looking up at him.
"I'm going to call Dr. Franks, right now. What shall I tell him?"
She hunched her shoulders. "I can't see him for a while."
He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What does that mean? A day? two days? a week? How long do you expect us all to wait around here? This is the reason..."
She retorted angrily, interrupting him: "I know why we came, and I have agreed to see him, but not just yet!"
When Louis suggested they ask Franks to come and see her later in the afternoon, she snapped: "I have to rest."
Louis walked to the door, saying he would call him anyway.
"I don't want to see him, I've changed my mind. Besides I feel as if I am getting stronger. Without all those pills that wretched woman makes me take, my system is getting cleansed. I am detoxifying; it's a slow process, I am bound to have some withdrawal symptoms and..."
"That's right, keep on with the excuses, but this time I am not taking no for an answer. If you want to stay here a month I'll arrange it, but you are going to Dr. Franks."
"Don't be so nasty with me, why are you being so nasty?"
"For God's sake, I am not being nasty, you are being childish. I'll call him now."
"No."
He looked at her, opening the door.
"I said no."
He slammed the door shut — hard. "Vow have no say in the matter, do you understand?"
"I won't see him."
Louis crossed the room and gripped her arm. "You will see him, do you hear me? You will see him, we agreed, you agreed and you cannot change your mind now."
"Why not? It's my mind."
He released her arm. "Right now it is! But for how long? I've told you, this is the last time, it's your last chance."
"Don't you mean yours?"
He had to control his temper. "We have nothing left, Bekki, you and I both know it. I am doing this for you — not for me, for you."
"Liar! You want me certified and dumped."
"I don't want to fight with you, Bekki, I want to help you. Can't you understand? That is all I have ever wanted to do — help you."
She stared at him, angrily. He kept his voice low, trying to be controlled. "You need help, you know it. If not for me..."
"Oh shut up! I've heard that one too many times." She mimicked him: "If not for me, do it for yourself."
She turned on him. "This is for you, Louis, I am here is this bloody awful country for you, you want to get rid of me, don't you think I know it? Well, one, I will not give you a divorce; two, I will go to see Dr. Franks when I feel up to going to see him, in my own time when I feel fit and well enough, and I will not be pressured by you, or by that whore Helen, I will not be forced into seeing this crank because you want to get rid of me and run off with that tart."
"You mean Helen? For God's sake, she is your friend, your doctor — and, Bekki, I am not running anywhere, I never have before, and I don't intend to now."
"But you are leaving me?... Aren't you? You've decided, haven't you?"
She plucked a tissue from its container and wiped her face, slowly removing her makeup. She had only dressed and made herself look pretty for him. She murmured under her breath about Helen again.
"Helen has nothing to do with any decision I make!"
She smiled. "Ah, you are making a decision all by yourself, are you? Well, that is a change."
He refused to be drawn into an argument, and their eyes met in the mirror.
"No, Bekki, you make the decision this time, it is up to you. If you refuse to see Dr. Franks, then..."
She held his gaze with a defiant stare. "Then what?"
"You cannot return to the children."
"They are old enough to make their own decision." She said it with defiance, but he could see her eyes were beginning to flick, to blink rapidly.
"Sasha is not!"
Her hands trembled and she began to twist the tissue, but she didn't look away from him.
"You can't do that to me! I love Sasha, she needs me."
"You give me no alternative. I've told you, this is your last chance."
He walked out. Even after he had closed the door, he felt as if her eyes were on him. He poured a brandy, his hands shaking as he lifted the glass. Would she begin throwing things, screaming, was she going to come hurtling out of the bedroom? The brandy hit the back of his throat, warming him. He poured himself some more, and then froze. The telephone extension rang once, he knew she was making a call, and he banged the glass down — breaking the stem. Was she calling Sasha? He hurried to the bedroom, about to fling open the door. He could hear her talking; he pressed his head to the door to listen.
Vebekka's palms were sweating, small beads of perspiration glistened on her brow. She gripped the telephone tighter, afraid she would unconsciously put it down.
"Dr. Franks? This is Baroness Marechal, I..."
She could hear him breathing, then ask how she was, and she had to swallow once, twice before she could reply. "I am very much better..."
"Good, I am glad to hear it."
The sweating made her feel weak, her whole body shook. Her hair was wringing wet.
"Hello? Baroness?... Hello?"
Dr. Franks could hardly hear her, but he knew she was still on the line. "Are you experiencing any adverse effects? Any withdrawal symptoms? Baroness?"
"Sweating, I am sweating."
She gasped, and had to reach for the dressing table top to steady herself; she felt as if she were going to faint.
"That is only to be expected. You must drink, can you hear me? You must drink as much water as possible, keep drinking. Would you like me to come and see you?"
"No!"
Franks couldn't hear her. He asked again. "I can be with you in half an hour. Would you like me to come to see you?"
There was a long pause. He could not tell if she was still on the line or not.
She whispered. "I would like to come and see you."
"Pardon? I can't hear you?"
"I want you to help me, I want to come to you."
"That is good, I can arrange for you to have the entire morning. Shall we say nine in the morning?"
"Thank you." She replaced the phone carefully; it felt heavy. Her hands clasped tightly together, Vebekka felt nothing but fear.
Louis was elated that Vebekka had called Franks herself. He had not expected her to have the strength. He called down to the desk to ask for Hilda to come to their suite immediately. He then called Anne Marie to check on his wife.
The baron was banking on Dr. Franks, as if on a miracle cure; it was naive of him, and he knew it. But even if Franks could not help Vebekka, at least the baron could honestly tell himself that he had tried. And then he could, without guilt, have her placed in an institution. He no longer had regrets, it was the only choice he had.
From the open door to her bedroom, he watched for a brief moment as Anne Marie tended to Vebekka. He could see that her nightgown was sodden, her face dripping with sweat, and she was mumbling incoherently. The baron saw Anne Marie check his wife's pulse, then take her temperature. He continued to watch as Vebekka struggled a moment, her arms thrashing at her sides, and then she grew listless, still sweating profusely. He turned away as Anne Marie began to remove his wife's nightgown. Vebekka seemed unaware of the nurse, and when Anne Marie realized the baron was watching she hesitated, the gown half removed.
Louis bowed his head. "I'll be in the foyer if you need me."