Authors: Unknown
‘Why—it’s grand!’ Katie assured him. ‘I just can’t believe that you’ve gone to all this trouble for me. Only—’
‘Only what? Something about it bothers you?’
‘Well, I hate to stay here and have Mary wait on me. There’s something wrong with her foot, isn’t there? She limps.’
‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘A congenital deformity. Don’t worry your head. Mary can get along fine. And I have plans to get it taken care of. Off to sleep now.’ He bent over the bed and dropped a kiss on her forehead. It was well-intended, she knew, but it still made her angry. That wasn’t the sort of kiss she really wanted. But he was gone before she could marshal the words.
It was the infernal creaking that woke her up. Creak, snap, creak, snap, punctuated from time to time by a discreet cough. Katie forced one eye open, and immediately blinked it shut. The sun was shining in the window, low on the eastern side of the house. And someone was bending over her, leaving a trail of lavender scent in her nose. The creaking began again, with more enthusiasm. Warily she opened both eyes.
Her first impression had been correct. The sun was at the windows, and the creaking noise came from just off to her right. She turned her head slowly in that direction.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ Aunt Grace said with considerable satisfaction. ‘Did my rocking chair wake you up? I knew it was noisy, but it’s the only one available down here. I thought I would have a rock while I knitted, you know. Good morning.’
‘Good morning.’ Katie tried to smile, but it got tangled up with a yawn, and both lost out. ‘No, your chair didn’t wake me up,’ she lied. ‘I was waking up anyway. I hadn’t noticed the rocking chair in here before.’
‘No, it wasn’t. I had Harry carry it about a half hour ago, and he dropped it. But that didn’t wake you up, thank goodness. And then I thought I would sit and rock for a while, and I dropped my needles, and that didn’t wake you up either. Thank goodness.’ The second thanks were a little slow in coming, almost as if she were exasperated that the noise
hadn’t
wakened her. ‘So then I decided to knit some more.’
‘Excuse me,’ Katie interjected, ‘but that seems to be a very strange piece of knitting. A scarf?’
‘Of course not, my dear. It’s a sleeve. I don’t really knit any more. I made a sweater for Harry, but one of the sleeves turned out to be two feet long, and he said something very nasty. So I don’t knit any more. I just work on this sleeve when I feel depressed. And pull it all apart when I feel better. Are you wide awake now?’
‘I think so. Do you feel depressed today?’
‘Of course I am. There’s a problem. Otherwise why would I want to wake a guest up at eight o’clock in the morning?’
‘That late? I’m—I’m stunned. Why are we whispering? Are we in a conspiracy of some kind?’
‘Why, of course we are! That woman is still here! This is becoming a serious situation. We have to get busy!’
‘Yes, I see that we do.’ Katie noticed that a tear was forming in the corner of the older woman’s eye. Whatever the problem was, it bothered her a great deal, and her sharply insistent tones were merely a cover-up for a very miserable old lady. ‘Busy at what?’ Katie asked.
‘Are you not feeling well this morning, my dear? I hope—this injury to your foot—you seem to be just the slightest bit dense this morning!’
‘Ah—well—it must be the aftershock from my travels. It’s reduced my—whatever. Perhaps you could explain again?’
‘I can’t do that. I haven’t explained before, yet. I mean, this is the first time I’ve tried to explain. Now, listen carefully. Unless we do something quickly, Harry is likely to take it into his head to marry that—that person. And we can’t allow that now, can we?’
‘No, of course we can’t allow that. Who?’
‘Who? Eloise, of course. Whom did you think! We just can’t allow that, can we?’
‘No. Certainly not!’ Here was a point where Katie felt in total agreement with the old lady. Total. ‘So, therefore, we’ll do—what?’
‘There’s only one foolproof way to keep him from marrying that woman. And that’s for him to marry someone else instead!’
Katie sighed and wished she could get her mind untracked. Without a doubt Aunt Grace had the gem of an idea buried in all this conversation, and all it needed was a little careful mining to get it out. ‘Yes, I can see that that would certainly solve the problem,’ she agreed. ‘Is there a bottle of aspirin on that table? I feel that I’m going to have a headache very soon.’
‘In a minute, dear. We must get our plan settled before anyone else comes in.’
‘Yes, of course. Plan?’
‘What we need to do is arrange for you and Harry to be in close proximity for a while. Propinquity is the solution to our problem. After a few days of exposure he could hardly resist you, could he?’
‘You mean Harry—him and me? You—must be kidding!’
‘That’s terrible English, dear. Of course, you and Harry. Who else? He has noticed you, hasn’t he?’
‘Noticed?’ Katie squeaked. ‘He does seem to have a very low female resistance-level. He believes deeply in that song about loving the girl he’s near. Any girl. But you must understand, Aunt Grace, that what he has in mind is definitely not marriage. Not with me, anyway.’
‘You mean he’s made some improper advances?’ Aunt Grace mustered up a smile that could easily be called Cheshire Cat. ‘Well, that just proves what I said—he’s interested.’
‘I know he’s interested,’ Katie said sombrely. ‘But I don’t think I’m interested in what he’s interested in, if you follow?’
‘Don’t underestimate yourself,’ the older woman returned. ‘Nothing would suit me better than a wedding between Harry and yourself.’
‘You make that sound as if I only need to—and—and what about Eloise? Doesn’t she have anything to say? You think she’s going to sit still while I snatch at her man? Or what about Harry? Doesn’t he have anything to say?’
‘As far as the Harrys of this world are concerned, my dear, the answer is no. I see that your education has been sadly neglected. Sex is an inherited trait, but marriage is an acquired taste, and the female of the species has always been the best teacher in that lovely subject. Now, what can you do that Harry would be interested in?'
‘Me? Not much. All I seem to do is get in his way. I break a mean foot, of course.’
‘Skilfully done, my dear. That was second on my list of suggestions. Not necessarily a foot, of course. Now he has to keep you at hand for a suitable period. Excellent.’
‘Yes, I thought I did it rather neatly,’ Katie returned wryly. ‘But since I have only two feet there’s little chance for a repeat performance. Outside of that I can cook, sew, keep house—’
‘Nice for later. Worth nothing now. What else?’
‘I really think Harry’s only interest is in how well I might do in his bed. And I don’t do that at all, frankly.’
‘How nice. What else?’
‘I—I take pictures. I’m really very good at it.’
‘That might help, but not much. Every now and then Harry needs pictures of his experiments. But he calls in a professional from Johnson City. Anything else?’
‘No, that’s about—oh no. Wien I helped my father in the studio he always had trouble with the books. So when I went to college I majored in Business Administration. I never did anything with it, you see, but I did study.’
‘Aha!’ Aunt Grace pounced. ‘You’re a secretary— and with a college degree!’
‘Well, not exactly. I studied all that, but all I ever got to do is sort the mail, and file things, and type out bills. Things like that.’
‘Exactly what we need,’ the old lady crowed. ‘Exactly! You’re a college-trained secretary!’
‘Okay, okay,’ Katie sighed in surrender. ‘If you say it real fast, I suppose you’re right. Yes, I’m a high-priced what you said.’
‘And that’s exactly what we need around here,’ Aunt Grace returned. There was a smile of relief on her face, and she tapped her bottom lip with her knitting needles as if her mind were going into high gear. ‘Yes, very nice indeed. Now all you have to do is be helpful—very helpful. From time to time I’ll offer a few suggestions, but you can safely leave the rest of the programme in my hands, my dear. So nice.’
‘And Eloise?’
‘There are many strange things going on in this house,’ the old lady said. ‘Harry is a brash young man, and intensely loyal. George Bradford was his closest friend in the world. George was engaged to Eloise. He was killed in a racing accident at Le Mans. Before he died, he managed to get Harry to promise him something. I don’t know what.’
‘You think he means to marry her on a promise?’
‘I don’t know,’ Aunt Grace said sadly. ‘Harry is a man who plays his cards close to his chest. He hides himself behind a mask of brash impertinence, and only gives you a look at his real self when it suits him. But don’t worry. We’ll put a spoke in Eloise’s wheel somehow or another.’
She got up from the rocking chair with some difficulty, and stuffed her knitting back into its basket. ‘Time for your meal,’ she said. ‘You just rest yourself. Mary will bring it.’ And then, looking thoughtfully down into the basket, ‘I do believe I’ll unravel this whole thing tonight and put it away.’
It
was another three days later, a Friday, before Katie felt secure enough to venture out into the open. The fair weather still held, but there was a nip in the air. Harry and Eloise had disappeared shortly after lunch. Aunt Grace was off for her nap, and Katie played on the patio with Jon and Mary. The little boy had been smitten by the powered wheelchair. He sat in Katie’s lap, urging her on at full speed, yelling at the top of his voice, ‘Choo choo!’
‘He must be mad about trains,’ Katie laughed.
‘You would be, too,’ Mary told her, ‘if you had an uncle like Harry King. Have you been down to the workshop yet? Trains everywhere. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life!’
‘You mean model trains? I can see him at that! Does he have any other hobbies?’
‘Everything, I think,’ the younger girl replied. ‘Amateur radio, trains, aeroplanes, photography, automobiles—everything. ’
‘Have you known him long, Mary?’
‘All my life. My mother worked here for his mother, you know. I used to come up here every day during the week, until that ladyfriend of his put up a fuss. Doesn’t bother me, of course. Mr Harry, he’s been paying me regular, even though I didn’t come. And now, in two weeks, comes the fun.’
‘Two weeks? What happens then?’
‘Oh, he wants his aunt to go to the World’s Fair over at Knoxville, but she can’t travel alone. So, she and-1, we’re going off to the Fair together. Mr Harry is arranging it all. We fly over from Johnson City, spend five days in a first-class hotel, and then Aunt Grace flies back.’
‘You’re not coming back with her, Mary?’
‘Oh no. I’m going directly to Atlanta, for an operation on my foot. Mr Harry arranged that, too. He’s a wonderful man. Just wonderful!’
Well! He’s a wonderful man, Katie thought. Mary thinks so. Aunt Grace thinks so. Eloise thinks so! And what about me? Do I think so? ‘I don’t want to know,’ she mumbled aloud.
‘What?’
'I said what kind of a bird is that sitting on that bush?’
‘That’s a cardinal. There’s a pair live around here regular. Is it true what Aunt Grace says, you got the powers?’
‘No. That’s pure superstition. There’s no such a thing! How in the world can we ever get equal rights for women if we believe such stupid things?’
‘But you did put a curse on Mr Harry—and cured his boils, too.’ Katie looked carefully at the girl. No doubt about it. She wanted to believe! How do you convince someone like that that it’s all mumbo-jumbo? ‘I only made up a herb poultice,’ she offered lamely.
‘Katie! Katie Russel! I want to talk to you!’ Harry came striding up the ramp from the cellar.
‘I think he’s mad. I’m gonna run,’ Mary giggled. ‘And I’ll take the baby with me!’
‘Coward!’ Katie called after her.
‘What’s this I hear about you being a secretary?’ Harry wasted no time in getting right to the point, and he
was
mad. She could almost see smoke coming out of his ears.
‘I’m fine, thank you, 'she said. ‘How are your boils?’
‘My boils?’ He looked down at his arm, puzzled. ‘I do believe that they’re cured. Stop changing the subject.’
‘What was it?’
‘My aunt tells me that your new cover story is you are a college-trained secretary, who knows everything there is to know about running an office! I find it just as hard to believe as that one about you being a professional photographer. Is it true?’
‘It might be. But why should that make you so mad?’
‘It might be true? Don’t you think I’ve been watching the pair of you like a hawk? You almost had me believing that photography story—and now there’s a sudden switch. Well?’
‘All right, it’s true,’ she lied. After all, why should he have it all his way all the time? ‘Would you like to see my college degree? It’s in Business Administration.’
‘There’s a catch here someplace,’ he snarled, ‘and I’ll find out what it is sooner or later.’
‘Pooh, pooh,’ she said airily, waving off his objections. ‘And I hope I find you well too?’
‘Stop playing games,’ he said. ‘Put up or shut up. Come on.’ He started to walk away, heading straight for the cellar ramp. Katie sat where she was, half-smiling. He stopped as soon as he realised she was not moving. ‘Well, are you coming?’ he growled.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said primly. ‘Is there any reason why I should?’
‘Oh, come off it. You know the second act in this play. I say, “Are you truly a marvellous office worker?” And you say, “Yes, of course I am.” And I say, “Oh, how wonderful. I am all mixed up in paperwork, and you have been sent by heaven to help me.” And then you say, “Of course I’ll help you, Harry.” And then we go down into my office and the plot unrolls!’
‘What a wonderful script,’ Katie said, with just a slight touch of disdain in her voice. ‘Do you write all your own material, or do you have help?’
He stood with his mouth open, staring at her. ‘You mean you’re going to offer to help me?’
‘Help you what? I haven’t heard anything yet that would make me be inclined to help you with anything. How is Eloise?’