Tuesday, 26 May 2015

A Suitor for the Princess - Chapter 19



                             “So how are things at the office, Dorothy? Are you having a tough time with the Boss not around? Do you need any help from me? I can volunteer for any absent employees in case your company has a deadline to meet! Feel free to tell me.”
                            Dorothy looked at her warily. Whatever had come over this woman? Why was a busy writer volunteering for proof-reading and editing? That too, when the Boss was not around! She smelt a fish. Cautiously she said, “Things are just fine, Martha. Nothing that we can’t handle! Thanks for your offer anyway. It was very kind of you.” She had guessed that Norman had told Martha to find out how the office was functioning in his absence. She resented the implied distrust in his behavior. Didn’t Norman trust her? Why did he ask this woman to gauge the situation in his office? She felt uneasy.
                             After a while, Martha realized that the other woman had just clammed up and there was no point in trying to offer for help. She started talking about the weather and her favorite soap operas. For Dorothy, warning bells rang in her head as she wondered whether her Boss was having an affair on the sly with this plump, middle-aged woman and whether she would be her Boss in the near future. She had often fancied herself in the managing Director’s chair. Where did that leave her? She felt her hands becoming clammy. She mustered a faint smile as the other woman warmly bade her “Good Bye. Have a nice day!”
                             Martha almost pitied Dorothy. This was one classic case of a “Secretary loves her Boss but he loves someone else” syndrome. She knew that she was up in arms against a powerful ‘other woman’. She groaned inwardly, as she started her car and started driving back home. She even cursed Norman for sending her to face her bĂȘte noire! Had he done it on purpose, to have a hearty laugh at her expense? Did he know that his secretary fancied him? Had he ever had an affair or even a fling with that slim, super-efficient Dorothy? She shuddered as she wondered about what fate had in store for her. Though she had written about such situations, umpteen times in her stories, she had just experienced her protagonists’ thoughts.
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        Norman was watching over Nancy, as she lay, fast asleep on her huge bed. She was snoring softly.  But her lined face appeared twisted in agony.  The cancer had ravaged her thoroughly.  It had appeared insidiously in her small intestine and then tenaciously overtaken the surrounding organs too.  The physicians were treating her with chemotherapy but had failed to halt the swift progress of the malignancy. 
        Life for Nancy had become an unending round of pathology labs, hospitals, chemo sessions, medicines and misery.  Whatever she ingested was vomited out.  Each bout of retching drained her.  Physically, she was battered.  Her bald pate, a result of the harsh chemo-therapy, her sallow skin, sunken owlish eyes, parched lips and dry skin; made her appear 80 rather than the 50 that she was!
        When her eyes were open, that is, when she was awake, Norman couldn’t bear to see the immense pain, desperation and helplessness that he saw in them.  He’d realize, with sorrow, that it was those same grayish- blue eyes that had attracted him towards her.  He remembered how she had been a vivacious young lady, in her early twenties, 22 to be precise, when she had first met him as a rookie reporter for the ‘Standard News’ daily.  She was about to interview him about the bestseller that had sold a million copies.  That novel ‘Dogma’ had been published by his publishing house and had been widely acclaimed and even nominated for the Booker award. 
        “Please may I come in Sir?” she had asked anxiously, one bright morning, at 9 a.m. “I’m sorry that I’m five minutes late.  The traffic on the highway, you know…..” she was babbling apologetically, as he had appraised her from toe to top, taking in her sensible black pumps, black pencil skirt, a white linen top with ruffles at the neck, slim watch and belt, a heart-shaped pendant with a sparkling sapphire dangling enticingly between her pert breasts, heaving slightly due to her anxiety, shoulder-length open hair (brunette, he observed) and then her pretty, flushed face, devoid of any make-up.  Her spectacles framed in fiber-glass, added to her beauty and made her appear intelligent and smart. 
        He brusquely cut her short.  “It’s all right lady.  You’re forgiven.  Your name is Nancy, right.  Let’s start the interview right away.  I have an urgent meeting in the next hour!”
        She was miffed by his curtness but attracted by his powerful persona.  A strong face, thick hair, broad shoulders and natty suit in brown.  Was he really a publisher?  He should’ve been in the movies. 
        “Well, …….. ?” Norman inquired as he saw her open-mouthed gaze fawning over him.  Rolling his eyes, he egged her on, “Hurry up, will you?” Those fascinating blue-grey eyes were irresistible.  He was drowning in her eyes. 
        The interview began in right earnest.  It ended with Norman asking her out to dinner that very night. 
        Over several other dates, both Norman and Nancy realized that they gelled very well.  Both were the answer to each others' dreams.  What else could they have wanted?  Why would they waste time and youth then?  They were married in a simple, yet elegant ceremony in the local cathedral.
        Norman sighed as he remembered their wedding photograph splashed across all the papers, the next morning.  “Wealthy publisher marries young reporter” “A fairy-tale wedding”, “The ‘write’ match” and so on screamed the headlines.  They had laughed at the brouhaha and nonchalantly proceeded to the Swiss Alps for their honeymoon.             
        Over the following 5 years, life was picture-perfect.  Two kids, Angel and Merci had filled their lives with sunshine and happiness.  Nancy was a full-time home-maker then.  Content to bask in her husband’s glory and watch her kids growing up.  But the good things in life never last.  And so it happened with their marriage too.

 To be continued.... 

The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.

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