Pam wanted to stay on.She had been happier working with Monique than she’d been in what seemed a very long time.In light, hopeful moments, she imagined becoming Monique’s official assistant.She didn’t need a salary.Shewould happily live on the commissions her work brought in.But Monique insisted she return to the States.
“Why do I need a liberal arts education,” she asked in French, “if this is what I want to do?”
“You need more formal training.I can’t give you that.You want to develop your own style.Some of it is there, in your sketches, but it is rough.”
“It may be rough, but it’s more than I’ll get at Swarthmore.”
Monique was shaking her head and a hand along with it.“No, no, no.Not Swarthmore.I’ve been talking with Phillipe.He knows people who studied in America.They say that Swarthmore is a fine school and has a good art program.But there is a better one.”She took a piece of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and put it flat on the table before Pam.
Pam looked at the name written on it.“I don’t believe it,” she murmured in English.Returning to French, she said, “But this is in Boston.I want toleaveBoston.”
“Have you heard of this school?”
“Of course.I’ve taken courses at the Museum of Fine Arts.Some of the teachers were students at the Museum School.I’ve seen shows by others.”
“They were good, no?”
“They were good, yes.But I don’t want to be in Boston.I don’t want to be anywhere near John.”
“You’d be near your mother.”
Monique knew about that, too.One day Pam had received a letter from Bob telling her that Patricia not only read her letters but held them in her hand for days afterward.Monique had seen Pam’s tears.
“Yes,” Pam conceded.“I’d be near her.I’d like that.”
“And you’ll get your own apartment, something near the museum, maybe with other students, and you won’t have to see John any more than you would have if you went to Swarthmore.”
“But I wanted a change of scenery.”
“Is Boston so small?Wouldn’t you be living and studying in an area that’s different from what you’re used to?”
Pam supposed she would.Monique was being sensible.
“It’s the best place for you, Pamela.Phillipe says so, and he’s seen your work.So do I.If you want to come back here next summer, I would be very happy, but by then you may have moved beyond me.”
“I doubt that.”
“No.You have talent and enthusiasm.You love working with the materials.I can see it in the way you handle them.You love them and respect them.You have a vision for presenting them that few artists have.You need to work at enhancing that vision.Once you’ve done that, your pieces will be superb.”When an innate modesty made Pam protest, Monique waved off the protest.“This is where your future lies, Pamela.You can establish a name for yourself.You can be very successful.If you want.”
Si tu veux.The words echoed in Pam’s mind during the flight across the Atlantic, and by the time she’d landed at JFK and transferred to a flight to Boston, she knew that she wanted to be successful more than anything in the world.By making a name for herself, she could be independent of John.She could take her legacy when she turned twenty-five and tell him to drop dead.If she wassuccessful enough, she could even open her own shop and rivalFacets.Thatwould be satisfying.
Letting her imagination run wild, she envisioned the atelier she might have on Newbury Street, perhaps not as close to the Ritz asFacetswas, but at a lower number, where the newer and more daring artists worked.She would fit in well, and once she’d established a client base of her own, she could move higher, closer.
She could rival John on the social scene.That would make him croak.She could lure clients fromFacets,and she’d do it without a second thought.Best of all, Cutter could visit her in her chic little shop, and John wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.
That would be the most satisfying of all.
Chapter 19
Staring at the bank statement he’d just received, Cutter indulged in a few fantasies of his own.It was a new experience, but then, having a six-figure balance in his personal account was a new experience.Barely nine months out of Timiny Cove, he had a steady income and a promising future.Hard to believe, given the way he’d arrived in New York.
He was cold, tired, and slightly overwhelmed when he’d rung Hillary’s bell that night.The trip from the airport had been a mess of bus changes and subway connections.Even at night, the city was ten times louder, more crowded, and faster paced than Boston.But New York was the place to be if a man wanted to make it, and Cutter did.He didn’t know how, but being in the right place was the first step.
In hindsight, he realized that showing up at Hillary’s had been an act of daring.She had been close to John inTiminy Cove.Cutter had no idea whether she still was.But he had to take the chance that she’d let him in.He didn’t know where else to turn.
Besides, she and Pam were friends, and he needed to be in touch with someone who was in touch with Pam.
Not only did Hillary let him in, she gave him a bed and food.She seemed pleased that he was there, even when he told her that he and John were archenemies.
