Rook

people bustling about.
    Her heels clicked on the marble floor, and she caught her breath as all the people stopped talking and parted in front of her, opening the way to a specific lift. All eyes were fixed on her and she was very aware of her mud-spattered shoes and her black eyes. She straightened her spine and walked carefully to the doors. Was it her imagination, or had that woman started to curtsy? She nodded carefully and kept walking. One man gave a small bow, and an older gentleman in tweeds gave a brief, flickering salute. What was she supposed to do? Seized by a sudden impulse, she paused before the man who’d saluted and smiled. His eyes were fixed firmly ahead.
    “Yes, Rook Thomas?” She was surprised by the deference that this man, who was at least twenty years her senior, showed her.
    “Oh, um. Are you busy?” she asked awkwardly, without any idea of what to say.
    “Not if you need me, ma’am,” he said, keeping his eyes ahead.
    “Please, come with me to my office. I would like to hear your thoughts on the project you are working on.” And with that, she began walking to the lift. The only way to do this thing, she decided, was to be brazen about it. Until this man had answered her with fear and respect, she hadn’t appreciated the power that came with being Myfanwy Thomas. It wasn’t just the fear of what she could do to him should she touch him; it was also the authority of her position.
    As the doors snapped shut, she could sense how uncomfortable her escort was. She’d made certain to stand at the back so that he was obliged to push the button for the floor, since she’d forgotten which one her office was on. He stood ramrod straight and very carefully avoided eye contact with her.
    “So—” she began, but he cut her off immediately.
    “Yes, Rook Thomas?”
    “Ye-es,” she said slowly. “What is it you are working on right now?”
    “My section is concerned with tidying up after that outbreak of plague in the Elephant and Castle. All the bodies are being dissected more thoroughly, and the witnesses coached.”
    “Oh, good,” she said weakly. “And everything is proceeding well?”
    “Yes, indeed.”
    “Excellent; that is very… satisfying.” And then there was a long pause. “Do you have any… observations? Or… suggestions?” What had started as a brief test of her authority was now turning into a humiliating interview in which neither person knew what to say.
    “No, no, we are following standard procedure,” he said hurriedly.
    “Hmm,” she said, as an ingenious way of not having to say anything. Another nightmarish pause ensued.
    “However—” he began.
    “Yes?” She pounced on the opening like it was a welcome mint.
    “I must confess, and please don’t take this as a criticism of the group, that the process is not as effective as it might be.”
    “Really?” she said, as breathless as if he had just come down from Mount Sinai with a few footnotes. “Let’s make an appointment so you can expand on your ideas. We’ll go to my office, and you can set a time with my assistant.” At that, the lift doors opened on her floor, and she very carefully let him go first, since she had no idea where her office was.
    Her executive assistant, whom the binder had identified as Ingrid Woodhouse, looked exactly like her photo. A distinguished woman in purple, Ingrid rose and greeted her politely.
    “Good morning, Rook Thomas,” her secretary said. “How are you?”
    “Great, thanks. Now, this gentleman has a few ideas that I’m quite keen to hear about, so if you could find a mutual opening in our schedules, that would be grand.” She looked around curiously while Ingrid and the man, whose name she hadn’t managed to pick up, made an appointment for him to tell her all about something todo with a plague.
Eh, it was probably worth it,
she thought.
I was never going to find my office otherwise. Plus, the poor man actually seemed to think he had some interesting ideas.
She smiled an absent good-bye at the perspiring man (whom Ingrid addressed as Colonel). He left, visibly relieved, and Myfanwy turned her attention to her executive assistant.
    “How was
your
weekend?” she asked, purposely heading off any questions about her own experiences.
    “Oh, it was nice,” said Ingrid. “You remember I told you my daughter Amy was coming home from York for the weekend?”
    “Oh, right. And you had a good time?”
    “Yes, very pleasant,” said Ingrid. “Here’s