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Authors: Dorothy Cannell
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it!”
I bent to retrieve the toilet paper, but it got away from me and went unravelling its way across the room.
Mrs. Diamond … Jacqueline … put out a foot to stop it going under her chair and sent it rolling back to me. “You sure came prepared.”
Encouraged by this small jest, I babbled, “You can’t know what a privilege it is to be in the same room with you … I wish I could express … But there are nowords … except to say that my children and I are your husband’s biggest, most devoted fans. We hate to miss a program.”
“Aren’t you sweet! You see more of him than I do.”
“Our all-time favourite segment was when he returned the broken toys to Santa’s workshop.”
“The one where he hung suspended from Rudolph’s sleigh fifty thousand feet up? I’ll let you in on a secret.”
“Such a thrill!” The cutie-pie was Mrs. Malloy.
“At home, Normie is afraid to stand on a chair.”
“Would it be imposing dreadfully to ask for your autograph? And if you would be so kind as to sign it Mrs. Norman The Doorman.” I bent down after the toilet paper, but didn’t get to pick it up. My eyes fixed on the gap in my raincoat and I became totally paralysed. My heart did a flip flop to join the lead weight in my apron pocket. How unutterably ghastly! In rushing to leave the house, petrified of being late for the appointment, I had forgotten to remove my apron. What must the impeccably groomed Mrs. Diamond think of me? And she didn’t know the half. The gun! Fool that I was, I could have blown off my knees just bending down to pick up that damned T.P. But thank God for small reprieves. Mrs. Malloy was making a great business of scooping up the toilet paper and putting it away. By the time she had produced a couple more of her cards and presented them, along with an eyeliner pencil, for the coveted signature, I had regained my composure.
“Excuse me, I have to find a loo.” So saying, I scuttled from the room, closed the door, unbuttoned my raincoat, whipped off the apron and tried to shove it into my raincoat pocket. No go. I’d have to stash it somewhere until I was through with this cursed interview—should it ever come to pass this side of the grave. The splash of the waterfall beckoned me to the pebbled pool under the spiral staircase. Standing next to thedrippy-faced nymph on her rock among the water lilies stood a terra-cotta urn. Neptune be praised! Not so fast—I looked up the well that formed the inside of the staircase and saw a dark scurry of leotards. How embarrassing if anyone should look down and see me cowering here clutching a suspicious-looking bundle! But time was awasting. And life is a game of chance.
I had just dropped in my bundle, getting spattered in the process, and was wishing I were home doing something meaningful like scrubbing the kitchen floor when the waiting room door smacked open. There stood Mrs. Malloy, hands on her leopard hips.
“Couldn’t find the lav?”
Blushing a deep terra-cotta, I assured Her Mightiness I had not used the pot for the purpose she suspected.
“Neither here nor there to me, Mrs. H, where you go. Didn’t you hear the buzzer? We’re being summoned for our interview. I did offer to let Mrs. Diamond go in ahead of us but being a proper lady she wouldn’t hear of it. That’s how you can tell real class, you know—by how they treat the little people. Cat got your tongue? You look like you’ve come over queer.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Piddle. You’ve got me .”
“But Mrs. Malloy,” I said, as she took hold of my arm and marched me back into the waiting room. “I had thought it might be better if we went in separately. After all, we will both have things of a personal nature to discuss.”
“Any secrets I had from you, Mrs. H, went out the window this morning. When I bared me soul, I hoped it went both ways. Pardonnez-moi for forgetting the difference in our stations. Seems I’m good enough to scrub your toilets
I bent to retrieve the toilet paper, but it got away from me and went unravelling its way across the room.
Mrs. Diamond … Jacqueline … put out a foot to stop it going under her chair and sent it rolling back to me. “You sure came prepared.”
Encouraged by this small jest, I babbled, “You can’t know what a privilege it is to be in the same room with you … I wish I could express … But there are nowords … except to say that my children and I are your husband’s biggest, most devoted fans. We hate to miss a program.”
“Aren’t you sweet! You see more of him than I do.”
“Our all-time favourite segment was when he returned the broken toys to Santa’s workshop.”
“The one where he hung suspended from Rudolph’s sleigh fifty thousand feet up? I’ll let you in on a secret.”
“Such a thrill!” The cutie-pie was Mrs. Malloy.
“At home, Normie is afraid to stand on a chair.”
“Would it be imposing dreadfully to ask for your autograph? And if you would be so kind as to sign it Mrs. Norman The Doorman.” I bent down after the toilet paper, but didn’t get to pick it up. My eyes fixed on the gap in my raincoat and I became totally paralysed. My heart did a flip flop to join the lead weight in my apron pocket. How unutterably ghastly! In rushing to leave the house, petrified of being late for the appointment, I had forgotten to remove my apron. What must the impeccably groomed Mrs. Diamond think of me? And she didn’t know the half. The gun! Fool that I was, I could have blown off my knees just bending down to pick up that damned T.P. But thank God for small reprieves. Mrs. Malloy was making a great business of scooping up the toilet paper and putting it away. By the time she had produced a couple more of her cards and presented them, along with an eyeliner pencil, for the coveted signature, I had regained my composure.
“Excuse me, I have to find a loo.” So saying, I scuttled from the room, closed the door, unbuttoned my raincoat, whipped off the apron and tried to shove it into my raincoat pocket. No go. I’d have to stash it somewhere until I was through with this cursed interview—should it ever come to pass this side of the grave. The splash of the waterfall beckoned me to the pebbled pool under the spiral staircase. Standing next to thedrippy-faced nymph on her rock among the water lilies stood a terra-cotta urn. Neptune be praised! Not so fast—I looked up the well that formed the inside of the staircase and saw a dark scurry of leotards. How embarrassing if anyone should look down and see me cowering here clutching a suspicious-looking bundle! But time was awasting. And life is a game of chance.
I had just dropped in my bundle, getting spattered in the process, and was wishing I were home doing something meaningful like scrubbing the kitchen floor when the waiting room door smacked open. There stood Mrs. Malloy, hands on her leopard hips.
“Couldn’t find the lav?”
Blushing a deep terra-cotta, I assured Her Mightiness I had not used the pot for the purpose she suspected.
“Neither here nor there to me, Mrs. H, where you go. Didn’t you hear the buzzer? We’re being summoned for our interview. I did offer to let Mrs. Diamond go in ahead of us but being a proper lady she wouldn’t hear of it. That’s how you can tell real class, you know—by how they treat the little people. Cat got your tongue? You look like you’ve come over queer.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Piddle. You’ve got me .”
“But Mrs. Malloy,” I said, as she took hold of my arm and marched me back into the waiting room. “I had thought it might be better if we went in separately. After all, we will both have things of a personal nature to discuss.”
“Any secrets I had from you, Mrs. H, went out the window this morning. When I bared me soul, I hoped it went both ways. Pardonnez-moi for forgetting the difference in our stations. Seems I’m good enough to scrub your toilets
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