His lips pursed into a thin line and his eyes grew even darker. “Of course I have feelings for her,” he fumed. “I nearly married her, dammit. You don’t just switch off emotions like that.”
She felt her face turn ashen. “You...you still have feelings for her?”
“Oh, I don’t love her,” he said. “I stopped loving her years ago. But I care about her, the same way as you’d care about a friend you’d known for years.” He shot out of his chair, immediately cursing at the sudden pain the movement caused him. He folded forward, supporting himself with one hand on the table. Instinctively, she reached out a protective hand towards him, but he batted her away. “I’m okay,” he muttered, slowly straightening up again. “I’m going to see her.”
She hurried after him as he strode towards his bedroom to get dressed. “Wait, Clark,” she urged. “Or at least take me with you.”
“It’s better if I do this alone,” he snapped, grabbing his jeans off a nearby chair. His face screwed up in pain as he pulled them on, and he then expended considerable effort reaching behind his head to yank his t-shirt off.
Do this alone? Who was he kidding?
She waited, her arms crossed in front of her, while he cringingly pulled on a fresh t-shirt. Watched as he located a clean pair of socks and suddenly came to a halt when he realised how far he’d have to bend over to put them on.
“Need some help?” she asked.
He glared at her and eased down on the edge of his bed, sock in hand. Leant forward, paused, and straightened again.
“Sure you wouldn’t like some help?” she said.
Silently, and with very little grace, he held the socks out to her. She took them and knelt in front of him. After his socks came his shoes; she, of course, tied his laces for him.
When she was done, she straightened and placed her hands on his knees. “Clark, you can’t do this alone,” she told him quietly. “I think we just proved that.”
He sighed and took her hands in his. “I guess you’re right. Not because I need help dressing, but because I need your cool headedness. Lana...she has a habit of bringing out the worst in me.” He grimaced. “As you just witnessed. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“Well, don’t do it again,” she said. “We mental health patients get mighty cranky when people yell at us.”
He smiled wanly. “I forget about that, you know. You’ve been so strong these past few days, it’s hard to remember you’re still a patient at the clinic.”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not sure I belong there any longer,” she said. “I think it may be time to leave.”
His face split into a delighted grin. “Lois, that’s wonderful! Have you told Francine?”
She winced. “I walked out on my last session with Francine. Slammed the door in her face.”
“Ouch. But I guess that’s sort of a good thing, in a way,” he said. “Shows you’re taking charge of your life again.”
“Yes.” She got to her feet. “Anyway, I’m just thinking about it for now. Maybe I’ll talk it over with George before I see Francine.”
He stood with her. “You’ve really taken to him, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. Do you mind?” Because it occurred to her that Clark might think she was poaching his pet therapist.
“Nah,” replied Clark. “He’s a big guy – there’s plenty of him to share around.”
She laughed. “This is true.”
She was heading for the door when he put a light hand on her arm and turned her gently to face him. “Lois, you do realise that this is dangerous, don’t you? I mean, Pirelli may already know that you’re on to him, and after we’ve visited Lana, it’ll be even more likely.”
She looked up into his anxious face. “I know,” she said lightly. “But we have to stop this guy before he makes your life a complete misery.”
“I hate to think you’re putting yourself in danger on my account,” he said. “Actually, I hate to think of you putting yourself in danger, period.”
“I’m in no more danger than you are,” she pointed out. “Especially now we know they’ve got green as well as red kryptonite.” She shrugged. “I’ll be fine. You watch my back and I’ll watch yours, okay?”
He grimaced. “The only problem with that is I can’t watch you twenty four hours a day.”
“No, and you’re just going to have to get used to that,” she said. “This is a dangerous business we’re in, and sometimes you’re just going to have to trust me to take care of myself. Come on, let’s go see your ex-fiancee before I change my mind.”
He sighed. “Something tells me we’re going to have a lot of conversations like this one. Okay, let’s go.”
****************
Lana lived in a large, modern house in one of the newer suburbs of Metropolis. On the surface, the house had all the trappings of wealth and success – generous front yard, a triple garage, a portico complete with shiny white stone pillars, and no doubt a large swimming pool at the back – but it lacked any kind of character or individuality. It looked, indeed, incredibly similar to all the other houses in the development.
A mixture of intense curiosity and nervousness filled Lois’s thoughts as she waited with Clark on the stoop. She’d heard so much about Lana, from Perry and Alice as well as Clark himself, that she was dying to discover if the impressions she’d formed matched the real person. On the other hand, this was Clark’s first love she was about to meet; someone who’d known him since he was a kid. Would she feel like an outsider at this reunion?
The door swung open to reveal a neat blonde woman with well-defined, pretty features and a trim figure. Her bland expression of polite disinterest quickly turned into a hostile frown when she saw who was on her stoop.
“Hi, Lana,” said Clark. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “What are you doing here? And who is this?” She turned to Lois and smiled the sickliest, most insincere smile Lois had ever seen on another woman.
“This is my friend and colleague, Lois,” replied Clark smoothly. “May we come in? We need to talk to you.”
“No, I don’t think you may,” she said, losing the sickly smile and turning a cold eye back on Clark. “I don’t invite total strangers into my house.”
Lois sensed Clark bristle. “I’m not a stranger, Lana,” he replied pleasantly. “And Lois here-“
“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Lana, staring with horrified surprise straight at Lois. “You’re her. The woman who turned him against me. How can you even dare to show your face - is this some kind of sick joke?” she demanded of Clark. “One of your pathetic attempts to get back at me for leaving you?”
“Funny - I thought I left you,” retorted Clark. “And you’re wrong. This isn’t the woman you think she is.”
“People do that all the time,” interjected Lois. “Mistake me for her. It’s weird. I guess I must look more like her than I realise.” She dimpled shyly and fiddled nervously with her hair. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.”
Lana narrowed her eyes. “You have the same name as her.”
“Yes, isn’t that amazing?” exclaimed Lois, adding a girlish giggle. “It’s so weird. But Clarkie here says I’m a lot prettier than her, don’t you, honey?” she gushed, sliding her arm around his and gazing adoringly up into his eyes.
To her delight, Clark played along immediately, smiling fondly down at her. “She couldn’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart,” he said. “I never knew true love until I found you.”
“Oh, Clarkie,” sighed Lois. “You say the nicest things.”
“I see,” said Lana dryly. “So what is it you want to talk to me about?”
Clark made a big show of dragging his gaze away from Lois and back to Lana. “Invite us in and we’ll tell you,” he said. “Unless you really want to be seen talking to a couple of nosey reporters on your doorstep.”
This time it was Lana’s turn to bristle. “That’s harassment.”
“No, just the nation’s free press doing its job,” replied Clark. “You do support a free press, don’t you, Lana?”
At that, Lana’s expression became thunderous, but she nevertheless stepped jerkily to one side and muttered, “Come in.”
******************
Lois perched on the edge of a hard, designer-inspired sofa, just one of several pieces which looked more like entries in a modern art competition than real furniture. The entire room was the same - minimalist and, in her personal opinion, totally soulless.
And so far, except for her undeniably attractive figure and pretty face, Lana was living up to all of Lois’s expectations. She hadn’t offered either of them so much as a glass of water and was now sitting with her arms crossed defensively under her chest waiting silently for Clark to make the next move.
“So...how’s Steve these days?” asked Clark.
“Fine,” answered Lana primly.
“He’s still with that insurance company, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Remind me again...what exactly is his job there?”
“Senior insurance salesman.”
“I imagine that’s quite a responsible position,” said Clark. “I bet he puts in a lot of overtime, huh?”
“Yes, he does,” said Lana, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. “He’s a hard worker.”
Clark nodded. “Guess that means you don’t see as much of him as you’d like to.”
Lana lifted her chin. “We spent quality time together at the weekends.”
“Quality time, huh?” said Clark. “Sounds...very organised.”
“Not a concept you’d understand, I guess,” replied Lana snippily.
Lois decided it was time to jump in before Clark let the conversation descend into a slanging match. “You have a lovely home, Lana,” she said. “I wish I could afford furniture as nice as this. Is it from a catalogue?”
“No, it’s imported from Italy,” said Lana haughtily.
“Really? Wow,” gushed Lois. “Clarkie needs some new furniture. Maybe you could give him the name of the shop or whatever.”
Lana smiled indulgently at her and smoothed a possessive hand along the arm of the chair she was occupying. “I don’t think...Clarkie...could afford furniture like this. Not on a reporter’s salary.”
“Oh, is it expensive? Wow,” said Lois. “How much was this sofa, for example?”
“Lois,” said Clark. “I don’t think Lana wants to let on as to how much she and Steve earn. I’m sorry,” he told Lana, “she’s still a little new at this.”
“That’s all right,” said Lana. “I don’t mind at all, Lois. That sofa you’re sitting on was around ten thousand dollars, I believe.”
“Wow,” said Lois. “Ten thousand bucks. Maybe we should become insurance salesmen, too, Clarkie.”
“Perhaps we should,” said Clark. “It certainly seems to pay well. This room alone would cost more than I earn in a year.”
“And you have such nice pictures, too,” said Lois, squinting at a blue boxy thing on one wall. “Are they originals?”
Lana laughed depreciatingly. “Oh, no. Even we couldn’t afford an original Picasso. We just enjoy good art, Steve especially.”
“Really?” said Clark. “I didn’t know he was interested in art.”
“He’s quite an expert, actually,” said Lana. “He’s taught me a lot.”
“I bet he has,” muttered Clark.
<<Clark!>>
<<Sorry, but she’s just so incredibly irritating.>>
Lana was already looking daggers at Clark, so Lois bobbed up quickly from the angular sofa. “Could you show me where your bathroom is?” she asked Lana, ducking her head coyly. “Clarkie bought me this huge, huge Coke at lunchtime and I’m afraid it’s already gone right through me.”
Lana wrinkled her nose with distaste. “This way.”
<<Behave while I’m gone,>> Lois instructed.
Having seen how volatile Clark was in Lana’s company, Lois was as quick as possible in the bathroom. Nevertheless, as she made her way back down the hall to the lounge, she could hear their low, angry voices sniping viciously at each other.
“So she’s the best you can manage these days, is she, *Clarkie*?”
“It’s really none of your business, Lana.”
“If only you could see yourself,” Lana scoffed. “Walking around with some dumb bimbo hanging on your arm. It’s pathetic.”
“I’m not doing this, Lana. You can call her all the names you like, but I’m not rising to your bait.”
“Is she a drug addict too, Clark? That would explain her addled brain. Do you shoot up together in some nasty back street ally?”
“Shut up, Lana,” said Clark. “Just shut up, okay?”
My God, thought Lois, she really is a first class bitch. Breezing back into the room, she found the two of them facing off like two prize fighters. Clark’s fists were clenched as he sat up ramrod straight in his chair, while Lana was leaning forward with her chin jutting arrogantly out towards him.
Lois made straight for Clark and plonked herself down in his lap. “They even have art in the bathroom, Clarkie. Isn’t that cool?”
“Yeah,” he muttered absently.
“Maybe your hubbie could teach me about art,” she said, turning to Lana. “I learn real quick.”
“I don’t think so,” said Lana. “Clark, I’m running out of patience here. Are you going to get to the point or shall I just show you to the door right now?”
“That’s okay, Lana,” replied Clark, easing Lois off his lap and rising stiffly from his chair. “We’ll show ourselves out.”
<<What are you doing?!>>
<<I came here to help her and all she can do is throw insults around. Why am I bothering?>>
Lois placed a hand on Clark’s chest as he made for the door. “Aww, Clarkie, we can’t go yet,” she said. “You haven’t told Lana about her husband yet.”
He stared at her. “Lois, what are you doing?”
“The right thing,” she replied. “Lana, how much do you really know about Steve?”
Lana threw her chin out. “Everything that matters.”
“But do you know his background? How he spends his time when he’s not here with you?” she pressed on. “Have you ever called him at the office when he’s been working late and not got an answer?”
“So?” replied Lana. “He could have been in a meeting, or visiting with clients.”
“What about all this?” she asked, sweeping her arm around the room. “Do you really think an insurance salesman could afford all this designer furniture – even a senior salesman?”
“He earns commission,” said Lana defensively. “And he saves a lot.”
Clark snorted. “He can’t earn that much more than me and it would take me a lifetime to save enough for all this.”
“What are you implying?” Lana demanded. “Because whatever it is, it’s not true.”
“Oh, so you’ve already asked yourself the same questions, have you?” said Clark. “Do tell me how you rationalised away that Hockney over there, or the Jackson Pollock in the hallway.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “No-one could afford art as famous as that. They’re only copies.”
“Are you sure?” asked Clark. “How can you tell?”
“It’s common sense,” she said. “Something you seem to lack. I suppose the drugs do that to you.”
“Lana, can’t you stop throwing insults at Clark for just one minute and listen to what he’s telling you?” said Lois, her patience snapping.
“He hasn’t told me a thing,” Lana said. “All he’s done is throw loose accusations around.”
“Okay,” said Clark, breathing heavily. “You want something more concrete? The other day I asked Mayson Drake over at the DA’s office for a list of suspected art thieves. Guess whose name was at the top of the list?”
Lana blanched. “It’s not true. This is just another of your spiteful attempts to make me feel bad about my marriage. Well, it won’t work, Clark. Your life may have fallen apart since we broke up, but I’ve never been happier.” She stormed to the front door and opened it. “Now get out my house and take your drug addict bimbo with you.”
“Fine,” seethed Clark. “I tried to help you, but as usual, all you can do is throw insults at me. Come on, Lois, we’re wasting our time here.”
He placed an arm around her back and guided her swiftly to the door.
“Clark, wait,” said Lois, forcing him to pause by swivelling around to face Lana. “You don’t realise this,” she told Lana, “because you’re too busy being spiteful, but he still cares about you. That’s why he came here today – not to taunt you or get into a shouting matching with you, but to warn you that you may be caught up in something pretty unpleasant. Dangerous, even.
“So when we’ve gone and you’re all alone in that big, empty house, think about what you and Clark once had together and ask yourself this: would Clark, the man you almost married, lie about something as serious as this?” She slid an around his waist. “I didn’t want him to come here today because I knew what it would cost him, but he came anyway. Think about that.”
She turned them around, leaving a shocked Lana standing in her hallway, all of a sudden looking like a rather lonely and pathetic figure.
*************
Once they’d walked a few yards down the street, Lois stopped. “You okay?” she asked, placing a hand on his back and studying his tired features.
“Yeah,” he said heavily. “I can’t believe she still hates me so much.”
“I can’t believe you ever considered marrying her,” she replied.
He sighed. “She wasn’t always like that. We used to get along really well together.”
“Well, she seems pretty unlovable to me,” she said. “You must have had the patience of a saint.”
“No, just the innocence of youth and lots of optimism,” he replied wryly.
She chuckled. “How’s the stomach?”
He grimaced. “Ask me when I haven’t just gone ten rounds with my ex-girlfriend.”
“That bad, huh? Want me to take a look?” She tweaked playfully at a corner of his t-shirt.
“Lois!” He grabbed her hand and pushed the shirt back down. “I’m fine. Come on, let’s go see the police.”
***************
