Once Is Not Enough by Jacqueline Susann Page A

January to the Clinique of Miracles. He had not spared her. He told her what she would find, the condition of some of the patients. But at least—here—she had a shot at getting well. He did not tell her that Dr. Peterson had some reservations about her complete recovery.
    The nearest village was five miles from the Clinique. He checked into the inn and remained a week to see how she would take it. If she felt any revulsion she did not show it. Her smile was always bright, and she praised everyone at the Clinique.
    He returned to the Coast and went through the motions of making the final picture. It was a dog and nothing could save it. But he had already started the publicity going on his “return to Broadway.” Agents, actors and directors began calling. Each night he holed up in his bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel and read scripts. Scripts from established playwrights, new authors, amateurs. He read everything, including galleys of new novels. His attaché case was stacked with them when he flew to Switzerland. January had been at the Clinique two months. Her speech was perfect. Her right arm was as strong as it had ever been. But her leg still presented a problem. She was walking better, but with a decided limp.
    The picture was finished in December. He gave it to the director to edit and score and walked away from it. He had a long meeting with his business manager. He sold his plane and some stocks. But he refused to relinquish the suite at the Plaza.
    On the day before Christmas he flew to Switzerland five hundred dollars in overweight, with three suitcases loaded with toys for the children. He brought January a record player and albums of all the show tunes of the past ten years.
    They celebrated her nineteenth birthday in the little dining room at the inn. She chattered about the albums—how much she liked them, how she wished she hadn’t missed the shows of the past year. Then her face grew serious and she reached out and took his hand. “Tell you what. Next time you come, I’m going to be able to dance with you. That’s a promise.”
    “Take it easy.” He laughed. “I haven’t danced in a long time.”
    “Well, brush up,” she said. “Because I’ll be waiting.” Then she smiled. “I don’t mean discotheque stuff. But maybe a quiet little waltz. At least it’s something to shoot for.”
    He nodded and managed a smile. Just that day he had a long talk with Dr. Peterson, who also was concerned over the lack of improvement of her leg. Dr. Peterson suggested they sendfor one of the top orthopedic surgeons in London for consultation.
    A few days later Mike met with Dr. Peterson and Sir Arthur Rylander, the English surgeon. After Sir Arthur studied the X rays, it was his opinion that the bone had healed improperly. The only chance for a cure was to rebreak it and reset it.
    When Mike put it to January, she didn’t hesitate. “Let’s break it. I’ve always thought wearing a cast in the Alps was rather chic. Didn’t you do a picture like that, where the heroine sat in après-ski clothes and looked beautiful?”
    “I’ve done three of them.” Mike laughed. “And all my heroines always recovered. Remember that.”
    The operation was performed in a hospital in Zurich. Two weeks later she was back at the Clinique of Miracles. Those who were able signed her cast, and her unbelievable spunk sent Mike Wayne back to the States with fresh determination. Anyone with her guts deserved to have a kingdom waiting on her return. Nothing could stop him now.
    He went to the Coast, cleared out his office at Century pictures, and went to the races at Santa Anita. He bet a long shot. It came in and he won five thousand dollars. He wasn’t really surprised, because he knew his luck had changed. And that night he read a script from a new author, and knew he had found his play. He decided to back it himself. He went to New York, put extra phones in his suite at the Plaza, took a lavish office in the Getty