Chapter 38. Housework
That was how Scarlet, peony scented and comfortable in a warm dressing gown, came to be curled up in bed over a tray of hotpot and pie while Enid toasted bread over a roaring fire. Enid had divided the “magic wine” between their glasses. “I hear there’s plenty more where this came from,” she colloquialized while Scarlet laughed. “Feeling better now?” “Strangely wonderful,” said Scarlet, “Being Pom’s friends guarantees us the best solicitor, and belonging to the Norfolk Crescent Irregulars somehow protects against fear itself.” “Power of groups,” Enid suggested. “Finding one’s footing among the right people.” “It’s a paradigm shift, Pom says. I so naively assumed – I don’t know how to explain this – that Ian was always right. It sounds shamefully stupid but in the old US of A girls are trained to mold themselves to the man. It’s his desires, his personality, his future that’s important. We turn ourselves into a sort of mush. We become strangers to ourselves.” “It isn’t only in America,” said Enid. “Looking back on it, I can hardly believe it was me, agreeing to move into that ridiculous old house in the country. But he bought it without telling me and he wanted it so badly! How was I to know he wanted it only to park me there?”” “It’s the English way – country life and city life – with a whole third life “abroad.” My husband seems to think that around foreigners, Englishmen can degrade others without degrading themselves – some leftover right of non-existent empire, I suppose. Their obvious theory is that no one believes anything foreigners say.” “Horrifying! But it isn’t just the Brits – seems to be the colonizing impulse,” Scarlet considered. “It’s always an excuse to degrade people.” “And here’s resources at home – as Esme shows us – so poorly managed they’re going to waste! This big house!” “It’s the same thing at the publishers. Their focus was on degradation, never improving or lifting up. Can it be only women who share?” Enid changed course on her second glass of wine. “Do you think you’d still be together if it weren’t for that property purchase?” “Actually, no. I don’t even have that much comfort. Now I can clearly see that Ian’s been looking for a way to become Machiavelli’s Princeever since college. What I regret most is that I thought it was sexy. I thought it made him a prize. Everyone congratulated me on winning the trophy. Turned out to be a booby prize and I was the booby.” “I’ve said the same exact thing to myself a hundred times,” Enid agreed. “Colin was shopping for a booby! We mustn’t be so hard on ourselves. I was trying to please my parents,” said Enid. “In my day, they kept us so sexually ignorant we studied flowers to earn about marriage! My parents were panicking about finding a man who could reliably launch their grandchildren into the correct class. To them, Colin seemed to be “the one”. I felt nothing when he kissed me, but everyone told me that was because I wasn’t making myself pleasing or exciting enough. Colin wasn’t interested in my body. I never claimed to be Brigitte Bardot, I hated being pawed, so I thought I had to find a man in control of his desires. He was so uninterested in sex that conceiving each child was a full-scale battlefield campaign – you can’t imagine.” Enid shook her head. “We were both pretending. Operating on rote.” “I hope he’s a better father than he was a husband,” said Scarlet. “To my amazement, he can be. He was very unenthusiastic at first – really didn’t want adult status, much less becoming a grandparent. But kids are so winning. They kept bringing him interests to share and he enjoyed widening their world. That part’s been wonderful. And they were at school so much they missed seeing the worst of it. I think having the lawyers lay out clear guidelines will be good for Colin’s relationships. But now, without him to punish me, I punish myself over perpetuating my parents’ mistakes. But our children’s marriages seem solid so far – and much more grounded emotionally.” “You’re right about being too hard on ourselves. We should be congratulating ourselves that we got out of it!” “Seen the light, as the preachers say,” agreed Enid. “We do seem to be very lucky just now all of a sudden.” “Serendipity, they call it,” Scarlet agreed. “Do you suppose good fortune like that was always there and we simply didn’t know how to find it?” “To some extent,” said Scarlet. “The nanny agency rejecting the exact kind of person I actually needed for the job probably happens all the time. But someone like Miss Bottomley winning the tontine – surely that sort of good fortune is very rare.” “Pom’s right about the paradigm shift,” Enid nodded. “It depends how you look at things. Fingers crossed that our luck holds out.” As they crossed fingers, Scarlet thought, it all depends on whether the police can talk any sense into Ian. “What I know for certain,” Scarlet averred, “Is that your hotpot is perfection.” And they both managed a full night’s restful sleep. Scarlet was breakfasting alone at the dining table, scanning the papers when the phone call came. “You’ll never believe what Ian told the magistrate,” said D’Arcy. “By the way, our detective lost him at the BBC – there are just too many entrances – so he very sensibly dispatched himself to your current place of residence. He obtained one long distance photo of Ian backing you up against a wall – no kissing, but the buttons of your coat undone.” “What did Ian say?” “He said you were disguised as the nanny! Is that possible, Scarlet?” Scarlet flushed. She had not expected this. “I did borrow the nanny’s greatcoat. And hat.” “Why on earth?” “I wanted to get a good look at any loiterers.” “Please leave that to us and don’t do it again. We are presenting ourselves as the innocent parties here – if a judge gets a whiff that the two of you are playing some marital game he’ll toss the whole case out as collusive.” “I’m sorry,” said Scarlet. “I didn’t think. So what did the magistrate do?” “Well, he absolved Ian of contravening a court order but of course one isn’t supposed to slam nannies against walls, either. Since the detective testified to some kissing, Ian said he was having a “try-on.” It certainly doesn’t help his case and he was unarguably too close to your residence. The judge has added the nanny to the order and repeated “Stay away.” On the whole, I think we can call this a win.” A hammering at the front door vaulted Scarlet to her feet. Must be the security crew. “I must go. Is that all?” “That covers it. You be a good girl, now.” Scarlet promised, too distracted to argue that girlhood felt very long past now and never to come again. A woman wearing an old-fashioned duster stood on the doorstep, arm akimbo. “I’m here to see why I was fired. Mollie Jarviss of Jarviss Cleaning.” “I’m sure we didn’t fire you,” said Scarlet, who had been expecting the security men. “Why don’t you come in and we’ll sort this out?” She seated Mollie in the dining room and found Miss Bottomley toasting her toes in the kitchen, “keeping Enid company” which seemed to be her favorite new pursuit. She was wearing Scarlet’s bulky red anorak. “I hope you don’t mind,” she apologized, “it just fits me so well and it’s so comfortable.” “Not in the least,” said Scarlet. “You can have it. It doesn’t really fit me anymore. By the way, was there any problem with the cleaning company that you can remember?” “Our cleaning company? I can’t think of any,” said Miss Bottomley. “I never saw them. But they certainly seemed honest, quiet and best of all from my point of view – they were fast.” “Mrs. Jarviss is claiming she was fired.” “I didn’t fire her,” snorted Miss Bottomley, “I fired Mr. Inkum. Bob Thomas and I did.” “So you won’t object if I re-hire her?” “Not in the least. I wouldn’t care to audition anyone new at this late stage.” Scarlet carried the good news to Mrs. Jarvis. “It’s Inkum who’s been let go,” she averred. “We’ll be paying you from now on.” Relief melted Mrs. Jarviss’ face, followed by embarrassment. “That’s all right, then,” she said. “I apologize if I was forceful. I thought we’d been found wanting but nobody told me. Fix anything you don’t care for is my motto. My girls are honest and hard-working.” “That’s great, then. Miss Bottomley is well satisfied.” “Four o’clock today, then? Two pounds ten.” “Certainly,” said Scarlet, trying not to show how surprised she was at such a low figure for this vast place. She escorted a much-subdued Mrs. Jarviss to the door. “We’ll see you this afternoon, then.” If it was once a week, she thought, there wouldn’t be a need to give Mrs. Jarviss the code. But she must remember to get a check from Miss Bottomley. The security men were pulling up at that very moment. “Good morning,” said Mr. Dyson. “This is Bert, who will work on keying your front door. John Truax here will oversee the job at the back.” Bert was all business in a gray oil-stained boiler suit He immediately knelt to study the door locks with scarcely a glance at Scarlet. Truax was more personable. He looked ex-military with his shoulders bulging out of his turtleneck and tweed jacket. “Miss Bottomley’s favorite number is 771,” whispered Scarlet. “Some childhood address.” “That’s where we’ll start, then. If you could walk us to the back?” Miss Bottomley was delighted by the company and offered tea all round, which the men did not take up. Elevenses, they averred, would be welcome. “I will need a chair, if that’s all right,” said Truax. It was. Three trucks had already pulled up in the forecourt. “I wish I could watch,” said Miss Bottomley regretfully, “But I must get ready for Mr. Thomas. We’re going to the bank.” “Nick and I can keep watch,” said Enid. Scarlet thought it was really the handsome Truax who had drawn Enid’s attention. “I have some things to do upstairs,” said Scarlet. But it was not to be. The front door bell summoned her yet again. Who’s the housemaid now? Wondered Scarlet but her disgruntled expression changed when she saw Pom and a sweet-looking young man standing before her on the doorstep. “Finally, someone I want to see!” she gasped. Pom and the stranger broke into smiles immediately. “Kirby Crousam,” Pom introduced, “From the Victoria and Albert. We went to art school together.” They had to step over Bert to enter.
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November 2021
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