In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours;
In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.
-- Maya Angelou
The next day Frank thundered into the Banks mansion to take Victor to task. "Don't try to brush it off Victor, don't you see how deeply she has fallen for you? The damage is irreparable. Your insensitivity baffles me. Don't play with her emotions, tell her the truth." - Frank thundered
"How could you say such a thing, Frank! Everyone knows that he is engaged to Amy? It must be that girl who is after him; Victor wouldn't think of such a thing. How scandalous!' – Mrs. Banks protested
"Your son is scandalous! He has deliberately misled her into believing that he likes her; haven't you, Victor?' – the arched brow and the indignant eyes directed a disapproving glance towards Victor who was standing near the shut window looking out at the snowclad side walk.
It was the afternoon of a cold and frosty winter ... the cool gusty wind blew with full force and pierced through the very bones. How wonderful is the winter chills to a man who is wrapped up in cashmere with a warm fire glowing at his fireplace! – That was Victor. He always wanted the best of both worlds and made sure he was always at the most comfortable spot.
Victor turned around lazily, his dark weary eyes expressed the pain of a ruptured heart- "I do like her so much." He threw a full eye on Frank and said – "Tell me a man who can look into those eyes and not help being captivated? Who can be with her and not want to drown himself in her? She draws out my soul. How can I not like her Frank?"
"But do you intend to take it forward? Will you choose her over Amy?' –Frank roared
"Would I indeed!?" Victor matched Frank's intensity.
Frank was taken aback. Victor was always the genial one – with pleasing personality. Where did he get this passion?
Victor lowered his voice and once again turned to the window. "If only you knew how this question has thundered within and what rubbles it has caused! As much as I want to keep Lydia, I cannot deny my commitment to Amy." he sighed.
"There you are..." Frank said victoriously.
"But then, those enchanting eyes of Lydia? One may forget the world in them!' – Victor reminisced, allowing them a glimpse into his heart for the first time.
'That's preposterous! and you know it.' - exclaimed the alarmed mother emphatically.
'How could you Victor?' Frank roared hoping to pluck him out of his delusions, 'Have you conveyed your intentions to Lydia? Does she understand that you are engaged to Amy and that you intend to marry her?' – he had caught on the thread to his friend's heart and was eagerly pulled it to see where the knot lay.
'Frank, that's preposterous! You know what a wonderful creature Amy is - so sweet and amiable. How can Victor think of anyone else and least of all Lydia? She is not one of us, she will be such a misfit here' – protested the mother.
Frank was getting more irate than ever – 'If so Mrs. Banks, why does your son still visit Lydia? You know it as well as I do what his commitments are to the Osbourne family and to Amy. So, my question is -- why is he still with Lydia?"
Victor was fatigued more by the introspection than the interrogation and turned around once again from the window to the world. 'I will Frank...I will tell her all, but in good time...there is still time...' – He said.
The subject was dropped there and Frank was convinced Victor will never reveal the truth to Lydia. But she must know how things stood between the two of them. He decided to do it himself; he could not allow the sham to go on anymore.
While Frank was battling with Victor, trying to drill sense into him and making him own up his mistake, Timothy took a more pragmatic approach – no confrontation…no reproach…no explanation – just plain truth.
What was that saying? – One picture is worth a thousand words!
That was Timothy's style – curt and to the point.
Mark arrived at Lydia's boarding house with the photographs. It was past midnight, "What could be so urgent?" – the matron of the boarding house wondered.
"It's for Miss Lydia Rivers." Mark handed her the envelope.
"Couldn't it wait till tomorrow morning? Did you have to wake up everyone just for this?"
"It's urgent, ma'am. I could wait but this could not." Mark said. There was an aura of this man … the words from his mouth came so deep and to the point that it made anything sound serious.
Even the matron couldn't escape from his influence. "Oh! Ok. I will see to it that she receives it immediately."
"Thank you, Ma'am. And sorry for the trouble."
"Oh! no… not at all. I understand. Don't worry about it."
This done, now it was time to wait patiently. Patience was Timothy's favorite game. He sat in his car patiently overlooking her window – hoping for a glimpse of her.
At two in the night, when Lydia was still hung over Victor and his eyes; when the touch of his lips were still so fresh; when the warmth of his breath still tickled her ear, Lydia's door knocked.
She opened the door and found her matron. "A man handed this just now. He said it was urgent." - she said
Lydia was intrigued; she took the envelope from the matron and opened it. Pictures of Victor's deceit…pictures of broken promises…pictures of her shattered dreams …came out one after another.
What good is a picture that steals away her peace?
Blood froze in her veins and breath in her lungs; as if someone had pulled her from her heaven; she came cascading down from the valley of roses into the chilling reality of her shattered dreams.
"Help! Someone… she has fainted… is there anyone?" – the matron shouted in horror. Soon enough the lights on all the floors were up and the house was in sixes and seven.
"What a bloody scoundrel!" – Timothy's heart burned and his eyes spew fire of revenge.