Tales of the City 04 - Babycakes

discussing their husbands’ sterility.”
‘The word hovered between them like nerve gas.
“It so happens,” she said finally, “that Connie’s husband is sterile, and she had artificial insem …”
“It so happens that Connie doesn’t have a husband.”
She looked away from him.
“At least,” he added, “that’s what she said.”
She hesitated, then said: “Sounds like you two got along famously.”
“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I rather liked her. I found her candor refreshing.”
“Great. Terrific.” She turned and walked away.
Once again, he stopped her. “Is this how you’re going to handle this?”
“Handle what? I have a job to do.”
“Oh … right. This is a working weekend, isn’t it?”
“Let go of me, Simon.”
“You’ve been a busy little beaver, haven’t you?”
“Simon …”
“Are you absolutely sure that three times was enough … or shall we have another go at it right here?”
She pulled free of his grip and slapped him hard. He reeled slightly but didn’t change his stance. She could see the imprint of her fingers on his pale face. His nostrils flared. When he brought his fingers to his cheek, the cynical glint had faded from his eyes and the look that remained made her heartsick.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he replied.
“What do you want me to do?”
He shrugged. “Deny it, I suppose.”
She hesitated.
“I thought so,” he nodded, turning away from her.
“Simon, look … it isn’t as black and white as … where are you going?”
“Home. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof.”
“But … the service.”
“Thanks awfully, but I know how it turns out.”
“No … I mean … you don’t have a ride. I can’t leave until …”
“Then I’ll call a taxi.” He was plunging through the undergrowth in search of the path.
“Simon, please don’t …”
But he was already gone.
    Guilt Trip
I T WAS WELL PAST NOON WHEN MONA RETURNED TO THE kitchen and found Teddy rinsing his breakfast dishes. “Your friend is quite smashing,” he said.
“Which one?” asked Mona, just to be difficult.
“Well … the little brown one is cute, but …”
“Never mind. Spare me.”
“I gave them my little Cook’s tour of the grounds. The dog graveyard … all that. They seemed quite taken with the place. It was rather sweet, I must say … seeing it all through their eyes.” He rubbed a damp rag across an egg-encrusted plate. “I think you should talk to your friend, Mona.”
“Why? What happened?”
“Well …”
“You didn’t tell him anything about tonight, did you?”
“Well … I’m amazed, really, that you haven’t told him.”
She was working on an answer for that when they both heard the crunch of tires against gravel in the courtyard. Teddy peered through the leaded windows above the sink with a look of bug-eyed horror. “Bloody hell.”
“Who is it?”
“The buyers. His wife, rather.”
“I thought they weren’t expected until …”
“They weren’t. I expect she’s come to take more Polaroids.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. Her decorator needs them. It’s too vile to think about. Look. I’m right. She’s brought that fucking camera.” He blotted his hands hastily on the damp rag. “Be a lamb, will you? I’ll take care of her, but come and rescue me in, say, ten minutes.”
After he had gone, she used the stairway closest to the library to creep back to her room for makeup repair. Her auburn roots had become distinctly visible, reminding her that the end was near. If she neglected them for another week or so, she could go for punk and nobody would be the wiser.
She gave Teddy his allotted ten minutes, then strolled down to the great hall with an ill-prepared lie on her lips. “Sorry to bother you, Teddy. Mr. Harris wants to talk to you. On the phone.”
Teddy and the buyer’s wife were standing next to the huge window facing the chapel. The woman was a broad-beamed blonde in a blue blazer. “Mr. Harris?” said Teddy, turning to Mona with a look of mild confusion.
“You know … the gardener.”
“Oh. Of course. Mr. Hargis. Right. Well, I expect he wants instructions. Do make yourself at home, Fabia. Oh … Fabia, this is Mona. I trust you two will get acquainted.” He backed away, then all but broke into a run.
Smirking, the woman watched his exit. Then she turned to Mona: “How very odd.”
“Uh … what?”
“Did you say Mr. Hargis rang Teddy?”
“Right.”
“Why didn’t I hear it, then?”
“Well