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Authors: Virginia Coffman
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it.
Deirdre hesitated at the long, narrow, paneled door. I heard Stephen Giles’s voice inside the room as he came toward his wife. His voice held the indulgent note everyone who loved Deirdre used with her. Sometimes a note of impatience could be detected as well. As I stood there, I prayed never to hear impatience or exasperation in his voice. It would mean that he had turned from her as Deirdre claimed others had turned away after the inevitable flattering first impression.
“There you are, sweetheart. You were such a long time I nearly starved to death. You must be quicker tomorrow if you don’t want me to fade away entirely.”
She giggled and I saw then that he held his arms out and she went into them. Over her head he smiled at me. “Good morning, Judy. Did you sleep well? I hope the early shower didn’t wake you.”
Deirdre was murmuring against his shoulder, “You’re so silly. Fade away! I can feel your muscles—you aren’t fading away.”
After a minute or two, Stephen reminded her, “We’ve got to show Judy to her chair. That’s the polite thing to do. Remember, I told you when Dr. and Mrs. Nagata were here? We must look after our guests.”
“Of course I remember! I’m not a baby!” Taking his hand as he released her, she brought it around her waist and grinned at me. “Your place is where the place setting is. Anybody knows that. Now, darling—” she said to her husband, “let’s eat so you won’t fade away.”
I went quickly to my place between the settings for Stephen and Deirdre at the head and foot of the long table. Stephen seated his wife and then me, and we held an absurd, long-distance conversation about my flight the previous day, the possible agreement to prevent a dock strike, whether there would be more showers today...
Over the fresh, golden papaya, the excellent coffee, bacon, eggs, and hot cross buns, I tried to bring up the subject of my purpose here. I had not been able to eat half the breakfast offered, but such bountiful meals seemed to be the custom, and there was a graciousness about it. The Gileses could apparently afford all the endless dishes no one touched, and that reminded me of my job as housekeeper. Each time I tried to mention it, one of them switched things around, made a little joke, or went on to mention something else so that I had to think up new opportunities to get the matter settled. But it never was settled. When we all got up from the table, I still knew no more about my real position at Sandalwood. I even wondered if I was invited to breakfast to provide added subjects of conversation in case Deirdre and her husband ran out of things to talk about. I snuffed out this idea but apparently buried it in my subconscious mind, for it recurred several times.
As Deirdre said good-bye to her husband, I started toward the kitchen. I had just gone in through the pantry when the cook, Mr. Yee, pointed behind me.
“Someone is looking for you, Miss Cameron.”
I turned and almost ran into Stephen Giles. Momentarily, he had lost the slightly amused, almost parental manner he used so successfully with Deirdre. Now he was businesslike. I remembered my first impression of him: that I felt his bronzed face might be admirable but that it also suggested an impetuous, impatient man.
“Judith, I don’t want any rubbish about your being a servant. Do you understand me?” I nodded, but even so he repeated, “Do you? Your real job is to look out for my wife. The housekeeper title was merely to satisfy the red tape, to get you free.”
“I’ll look out for her—you know that. But I don’t like to interfere, and I won’t interfere in any way.”
I had not been entirely correct about him. His eyes were not hard, though they were serious. “I have discovered Deirdre needs someone—a companion. Someone she can trust. And frankly, you are the only one who seems to have been—loyal.”
“Loyal?”
“That’s the right word. Through almost nine years that
Deirdre hesitated at the long, narrow, paneled door. I heard Stephen Giles’s voice inside the room as he came toward his wife. His voice held the indulgent note everyone who loved Deirdre used with her. Sometimes a note of impatience could be detected as well. As I stood there, I prayed never to hear impatience or exasperation in his voice. It would mean that he had turned from her as Deirdre claimed others had turned away after the inevitable flattering first impression.
“There you are, sweetheart. You were such a long time I nearly starved to death. You must be quicker tomorrow if you don’t want me to fade away entirely.”
She giggled and I saw then that he held his arms out and she went into them. Over her head he smiled at me. “Good morning, Judy. Did you sleep well? I hope the early shower didn’t wake you.”
Deirdre was murmuring against his shoulder, “You’re so silly. Fade away! I can feel your muscles—you aren’t fading away.”
After a minute or two, Stephen reminded her, “We’ve got to show Judy to her chair. That’s the polite thing to do. Remember, I told you when Dr. and Mrs. Nagata were here? We must look after our guests.”
“Of course I remember! I’m not a baby!” Taking his hand as he released her, she brought it around her waist and grinned at me. “Your place is where the place setting is. Anybody knows that. Now, darling—” she said to her husband, “let’s eat so you won’t fade away.”
I went quickly to my place between the settings for Stephen and Deirdre at the head and foot of the long table. Stephen seated his wife and then me, and we held an absurd, long-distance conversation about my flight the previous day, the possible agreement to prevent a dock strike, whether there would be more showers today...
Over the fresh, golden papaya, the excellent coffee, bacon, eggs, and hot cross buns, I tried to bring up the subject of my purpose here. I had not been able to eat half the breakfast offered, but such bountiful meals seemed to be the custom, and there was a graciousness about it. The Gileses could apparently afford all the endless dishes no one touched, and that reminded me of my job as housekeeper. Each time I tried to mention it, one of them switched things around, made a little joke, or went on to mention something else so that I had to think up new opportunities to get the matter settled. But it never was settled. When we all got up from the table, I still knew no more about my real position at Sandalwood. I even wondered if I was invited to breakfast to provide added subjects of conversation in case Deirdre and her husband ran out of things to talk about. I snuffed out this idea but apparently buried it in my subconscious mind, for it recurred several times.
As Deirdre said good-bye to her husband, I started toward the kitchen. I had just gone in through the pantry when the cook, Mr. Yee, pointed behind me.
“Someone is looking for you, Miss Cameron.”
I turned and almost ran into Stephen Giles. Momentarily, he had lost the slightly amused, almost parental manner he used so successfully with Deirdre. Now he was businesslike. I remembered my first impression of him: that I felt his bronzed face might be admirable but that it also suggested an impetuous, impatient man.
“Judith, I don’t want any rubbish about your being a servant. Do you understand me?” I nodded, but even so he repeated, “Do you? Your real job is to look out for my wife. The housekeeper title was merely to satisfy the red tape, to get you free.”
“I’ll look out for her—you know that. But I don’t like to interfere, and I won’t interfere in any way.”
I had not been entirely correct about him. His eyes were not hard, though they were serious. “I have discovered Deirdre needs someone—a companion. Someone she can trust. And frankly, you are the only one who seems to have been—loyal.”
“Loyal?”
“That’s the right word. Through almost nine years that
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