Сидни Шелдон – Windmills of the Gods (страница 16)
She knew what he was going to say, and she thought:
‘I can’t just leave my practice and walk out on my patients. I have to stay here. I don’t know how long you’d have to be away, but if it really means a lot to you, well, maybe we could work out some way where you could go over there with the children and I could join you whenever –’
Mary said softly, ‘You crazy man. Do you think I could live away from you?’
‘Well – it’s an awfully big honour, and –’
‘So is being your wife. Nothing means as much to me as you and the children. I would never leave you. This town can’t find another doctor like you, but all the government has to do to find a better ambassador than me is to look in the yellow pages.’
He took her in his arms. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m positive. It was exciting being asked. That’s enough for –’
The door flew open and Beth and Tim hurried in. Beth said, ‘I just called Virgil and told him you’re going to be an ambassador.’
‘Then you’d better call him back and tell him I’m not.’
‘Why not?’ Beth asked.
‘Your mother has decided she’s going to stay here.’
‘Why?’ Beth wailed. ‘I’ve never been to Romania. I’ve never been anywhere.’
‘Me, neither,’ Tim said. He turned to Beth. ‘I told you we’re never going to escape from this place.’
‘The subject is closed,’ Mary informed them.
The following morning Mary dialled the telephone number that the President had given her. When an operator answered, Mary said, ‘This is Mrs Edward Ashley. I think the President’s assistant – a Mr Greene – is expecting my call.’
‘One moment, please.’
A male voice on the other end said, ‘Hello. Mrs Ashley?’
‘Yes,’ Mary said. ‘Would you please give the President a message for me?’
‘Certainly.’
‘Would you please tell him that I’m very, very flattered by his offer, but my husband’s profession ties him down here, so I’m afraid it would be impossible for me to accept. I hope he understands.’
‘I’ll pass on your message,’ the voice said non-committally. ‘Thank you, Mrs Ashley.’ The line went dead.
Mary slowly replaced the receiver. It was done. For one brief moment, a tantalizing dream had been offered her. But that was all it was. A dream.
The whitewashed stone house was anonymous, hidden among dozens of identical houses, a short walk from the
‘We will need it for only one day,’ a voice over the telephone told him.
It was arranged. Now the chairman was speaking to the men gathered in the living room.
‘A problem has arisen,’ the chairman said. ‘The motion that was recently passed has run into difficulty.’
‘What sort of difficulty?’ Balder asked.
‘The go-between we selected – Harry Lantz – is dead.’
‘Dead? Dead, how?’
‘He was murdered. His body was found floating in the harbour in Buenos Aires.’
‘Do the police have any idea who did it? I mean – can they connect this to us in any way?’
‘No. We’re perfectly safe.’
Thor asked, ‘What about our plan? Can we go ahead with it?’
‘Not at the moment. We have no idea how to reach Angel. However, the Controller gave Harry Lantz permission to reveal his name to him. If Angel is interested in our proposition, he will find a way to get in touch with him. All we can do now is wait.’
The banner headline in the Junction City
There was a two-column story about Mary, and a photograph of her. On KJCK, the afternoon and evening broadcasts carried feature stories on the town’s new celebrity. The fact that Mary Ashley had rejected the President’s offer made the story even bigger than if she had accepted it. In the eyes of its proud citizens, Junction City, Kansas, was a lot more important than Bucharest, Romania.
When Mary Ashley drove into town to shop for dinner, she kept hearing her name on the car radio.
‘… Earlier, President Ellison had announced that the ambassadorship to Romania would be the beginning of his people-to-people programme, the cornerstone of his foreign policy. How Mary Ashley’s refusal to accept the post will reflect on –’
She switched to another station.
‘… is married to Dr Edward Ashley, and it is believed that –’
Mary switched off the radio. She had received at least three dozen phone calls that morning from friends, neighbours, students and curious strangers. Reporters had called from as far away as London and Tokyo.
She drove the station wagon into a Derby gas station and pulled up in front of the self-service pump.
As Mary got out of the car, Mr Blount, the station manager, hurried over to her. ‘Mornin’, Mrs Ashley. An ambassador lady ain’t got no call to be pumpin’ her own gas. Let me give you a hand.’
Mary smiled. ‘Thanks. I’m used to doing it.’
‘No, no. I insist.’
When the tank was filled, Mary drove down Washington Street and parked in front of the Shoe Box.
‘Mornin’, Mrs Ashley,’ the clerk greeted her. ‘How’s the ambassador this mornin’?’
The clerk examined them. ‘Ain’t these the ones we did last week?’
Mary sighed. ‘And the week before.’
Mary’s next stop was at Long’s Department Store. Mrs Hacker, the manager of the dress department, said to her, ‘I jest heard your name on the radio. You’re puttin’ Junction City on the map. Yes, sir. I guess you and Eisenhower and Alf Landon are Kansas’ only political big shots, Mrs Ambassador.’
‘I’m not an ambassador,’ Mary said patiently. ‘I turned it down.’
‘That’s what I mean.’
It was no use. Mary said, ‘I need some jeans for Beth. Preferably something in iron.’
‘How old is Beth now? About ten?’
‘She’s twelve.’
‘Land’s sake, they grow so fast these days, don’t they? She’ll be a teenager before you know it.’
‘Beth was born a teenager, Mrs Hacker.’
‘How’s Tim?’
‘He’s a lot like Beth.’