SO FAR, APART FROM a couple of hitches at the beginning, Paul's plan was working out perfectly, he happily reported to Genevieve's parents. He couldn't help but feel happy and optimistic about how the last few weeks had panned out. Due to fate, Genevieve was back in his life and so long as she couldn't remember her past in the near future, she would remain there.
He had been very careful and skilful at enveloping Genevieve in a bubble of security. With her parents backing him, it was only a matter of time before she had the wedding ring on her finger, and regardless if she finally remembered Rebecca, it would be too late. The deed would have been done.
"She does seem more content these days," Elsie said, putting two cups of tea on the table for Eddie and Paul.
"So, what's the next step then?" Eddie asked Paul, completely ignoring what Elsie had said.
"Well, I think it's best if I broach the subject of marriage again. It will give her a sense of security," Paul said, sipping his tea.
"Yes, I think you're right. Has she mentioned that woman again?" Eddie asked, not even attempting to hide his disdain.
"No, not a word. There's no reason for her to either; I try to keep her mind in the present as much as possible. We don't talk about her life in London."
"I'd hardly call it a life," Eddie said. The doorbell rang and Eddie went to see who it was. Paul heard his name being called from the hallway.
"Can you give me a hand?" Eddie asked, nodding toward the delivery driver who was unloading boxes. "It's Genevieve's stuff."
"I'd be more than happy to," Paul said, trying to conceal his elation.
Long after his break-up with Genevieve, when the humiliation had given way to anger, Paul knew the time would come when he'd get his own back on Rebecca. He had made no threats, no demands, no begging phones calls. He had left them to get on with their seedy lives and had internalised his rage. He drank whiskey like there was no tomorrow, he slept with countless faceless women and discarded them the next day as if they were merely rubbish. He painted dark, violent images until his arms ached and he could no longer hold a paintbrush.
If it wasn't for the intensity of his rage he would have curled up and died. He never knew that the human mind could hurt so much; that somebody could inflict a pain that felt like a knife being plunged into you again and again as the endless images of Genevieve and Rebecca ravaged his already tormented mind. Then Genevieve's star just got brighter. Her art reviews were now in the popular media, no doubt pushed there by her association with Rebecca. She was no longer in contact with her parents or any of their mutual friends, so it was hard to find out what was happening in her personal life, whether she was happy or not.
It was Genevieve's parents who had lit the path for him to find his way back.
After not returning their calls for several months he had bumped into Elsie by accident. It was early in the day and he was drunk. She persuaded him to go home with her so they could talk. Several hours later, after a hot bowl of homemade chicken soup and lots of water, the three wounded souls sat together and grieved over the loss of Genevieve. For the first time since it had happened, he cried until his body shook uncontrollably. For hours, Elsie held him in her arms and comforted him the best she could.
"You've got to understand, Paul, Genevieve is blinded by an illusion. It's not real, what she thinks she feels. A hotshot critic showed her a little attention and she got carried away with the emotion of it all. Now that she's amongst those kinds of people, she thinks their behaviour is acceptable," Elsie explained.
"Elsie is right, Paul," Eddie added. "It's that group mentality thing where because a group of people is doing it, you think you may as well do it too. She was most probably frightened of settling down just yet. Paul, I know my daughter and I'm telling you now: There is no way on this earth that girl is a homosexual — it's just not possible. Homosexuality is an abomination to the natural human reproductive process. Humans are not supposed to be attracted to the same sex. Our bodies were designed perfectly for one male and one female.”
"Why is she still with her then?" Paul asked with a childish whine.
"Because she's not well, Paul," Elsie said gently. "And it doesn't help that she's dazzled by the lifestyle of these people. Remember the saying; The road to Hell is paved with gold? Well, I thought we had taught her better than to be materialistic, but she's always been an impulsive girl, you know that."
"It's a wicked disease, this homosexuality. The victims of it believe there isn't a cure for it — if only they would just trust in the Lord to show them the light. That's where the problem lies: No faith," Eddie said, shaking his head. "And the victims are brainwashed into thinking that it is completely natural and that it's okay, but it's not okay," he said angrily, "especially when it's my daughter!" He thumped his hand down on the table, sending a shudder that caused the cups to lift off their saucers.
"You spent a lot of time with her. Did she ever show any kind of inclination of that sort before?" Elsie asked, trying to diffuse her husband's anger.
"No, never." Paul shook his head. "We were happy — or so I thought. She had never complained."
Emotionally drained, Paul had spent the night in Genevieve's old bedroom. In bed, he pressed his nose against the pillow, inhaling deeply to see if he could get a scent of her, such was his desperation. The next morning he woke up knowing it was time to move on. He was determined to drive out the demons that dwelled within. He quit drinking, and with a plan of action in his mind, he no longer felt as if he were drowning. He had finally, slowly, begun to swim.