That night she had the dream again.
One morning, Catherine saw a newspaper item that jolted her:
William Fraser, Assistant to U.S. President Harry Truman, has arrived in London to work out a new trade agreement with the British Prime Minister.
She put down the paper, feeling foolishly vulnerable. William Fraser. He had been such an important part of her life. What would have happened if I hadn’t left him?
Catherine sat at her desk, smiling tremulously, staring at the item in the newspaper. William Fraser was one of the dearest men she had ever known. Just the memory of him made her feel warm and loved. And he was here in London. I have to see him, she thought. According to the newspaper, he was staying at Claridge’s.
Catherine dialed the number of the hotel, and her fingers were trembling. She had a feeling that the past was about to become the present. She found herself thrilled at the thought of seeing Fraser. What will he say when he hears my voice? When he sees me again?
The operator was saying, “Good morning, Claridge’s.”
Catherine took a deep breath. “Mr. William Fraser, please.”
“I’m sorry, Madam. Did you say Mr. or Mrs. William Fraser?”
Catherine felt as though she had been struck. What a fool I am. Why didn’t I think of that? Of course he could be married by now.
“Madam…”
“I…Never mind. Thank you.” She slowly replaced the receiver.
I’m too late. It’s over. Costa was right. Let the past remain the past.
Loneliness can be a corrosive, eating away at the spirit. Everyone needs to share joy and glory and pain. Catherine was living in a world full of strangers, watching the happiness of other couples, hearing the echo of the laughter of lovers. But she refused to feel sorry for herself.
I’m not the only woman in the world who’s alone. I’m alive! I’m alive!
There was never a shortage of things to do in London. The London cinemas were filled with American films and Catherine enjoyed going to them. She saw The Razor’s Edge and Anna and the King of Siam. Gentleman’s Agreement was a disturbing film, and Cary Grant was wonderful in The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer.
Catherine went to concerts at Albert Hall and attended the ballet at Sadler’s Wells. She went to Stratford-upon-Avon to see Anthony Quayle in The Taming of the Shrew, and to see Sir Laurence Olivier in Richard III. But it was no fun going alone.
And then Kirk Reynolds came along.
It was in the office that a tall, attractive man walked up to Catherine and said, “I’m Kirk Reynolds. Where have you been?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
That was how it began.
Kirk Reynolds was an American attorney, working for Constantin Demiris on international mergers. He was in his forties, serious-minded, intelligent, and attentive.
When she discussed Kirk Reynolds with Evelyn, Catherine said, “Do you know what I like about him most? He makes me feel like a woman. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn demurred. “I’d be careful if I were you. Don’t rush into anything.”
“I won’t,” Catherine promised.
Kirk Reynolds took Catherine on a legal journey through London. They went to the Old Bailey, where criminals had been tried over the centuries, and they wandered through the main hall of the law courts, past grave-looking barristers in wigs and gowns. They visited the site of Newgate Prison, built in the eighteenth century. Just in front of where the prison had been, the road widened, then unexpectedly narrowed again.
“That’s odd,” Catherine said. “I wonder why they built the road like that?”
“To accommodate the crowds. This is where they used to hold public executions.”
Catherine shuddered. It hit too close to home.
One evening, Kirk Reynolds took Catherine to East India Dock Road, along the piers.
“Not too long ago, this was a place where policemen walked in pairs,” Reynolds said. “It was the hangout for criminals.”
The area was dark and forbidding, and it still looked dangerous to Catherine.
They had dinner at the Prospect of Whitby, one of England’s oldest pubs, seated on a balcony built over the Thames, watching the barges move down the river past the big ships that were on their way to sea.