Part One: Diana
Saturday, December 25, 2004
A whisper of breath beside her was the first thing Di was aware of as she moved from sleep to wakefulness. Considering that she had almost always awoken alone, the gentle sound was a reminder that things had changed. She opened her eyes to find her new husband contemplating her.
“Morning,” he said, as she smiled at him. “Merry Christmas.”
Her arms threaded around him and she leaned forward to kiss him, before returning the greeting. We really are married, she thought, considering the situation. It’s Christmas morning and I’m in Mart’s arms. This is almost too good to be true. Their kisses deepened, driving all thoughts of her good fortune out of her mind. Finally, reluctantly, Mart pulled away.
“Breakfast at my parents’ place in less than an hour,” he said. “Much as I like this, I don’t want to miss out on that.”
“We could multitask,” Di suggested, with a seductive smile. “What better way to save time than to share a shower?”
“I like the way you think,” he replied, laughing and climbing out of bed. “Come here, wife, and be cleaned.”
She let out a soft shriek as he pulled her into his arms and carted her off towards the tiny bathroom of their room at the Glen Road Inn.
More than three-quarters of an hour later, as they rushed to get ready to leave, Di had another thought. “Are we going to do this every year?” she asked, twisting this way and that to reach the zipper of her dress.
“Share a shower and make ourselves late for breakfast on Christmas morning?” Mart asked in confusion. “Sure; if you want to, I’m more than willing.”
“I meant, rush from one set of parents to the other,” she said, taking a moment to swat at him. “Zip me up, please?”
“I hadn’t given it a thought,” he said, running his hand up her spine as the zipper followed. “I guess so. What other options do we have?” He began answering his own question. “We could take turns as to which family we go to; or, we could tell the whole lot of them that we’re going on vacation for Christmas; or, we could make them all come to us.”
“Mmm, I like that idea,” said Di, “except, do you think that our families would get along?”
“I can’t see why not,” said her husband. “Are you ready, Di? We need to be leaving.”
She slipped on her shoes and picked up her handbag, nodding in response to his question. He held the door open for her, locking it behind them, and led the way out to the car. A few minutes later, they arrived at his parents’ home.
“I don’t know why, but I’m kind of nervous,” she said as they approached the kitchen door.
“I’m nervous about going to your parents,” he replied, grinning, “so I don’t see why you shouldn’t feel that way, too.”
“That’s different,” she insisted, pausing as he opened the door for her. Wonderful smells wafted out, setting her stomach grumbling. “Your family will be nice to me.”
“Come in, come in,” called Alicia Johnson, from somewhere close by. “If it isn’t the newlyweds. You’re just in time for breakfast.”
Before they had a chance to say a single word, she was ushering them into the dining room, uttering inanities all the way. Di found herself squeezed into a tiny space between Brian and Mart, being greeted by the whole family at once, and not having the slightest idea whom to speak to first. She need not have worried: the Belden family was more than happy to carry the conversation without her, as she should have already known.
The meal drew to a noisy conclusion and Di was immediately taken in hand by Aunt Alicia. While Mart was being whisked off in the opposite direction, she was destined for the kitchen.
“You’ll dry the dishes for me, please, Diana,” said Alicia, handing her a dish cloth. “I’ll wash.”
The older woman kept up a steady stream of cheerful conversation, as she attacked the mountain of dirty dishes. It took all of Di’s concentration to keep up with the questions that were put to her. Just as she thought she would scream if she saw another wet dish, Alicia announced that they were finished.
“Thank you, Diana. We’ve finished right on cue,” she said, with satisfaction. “I think you’ll find that it’s time for the gift exchange. You go on out; I’ll be there in just a minute or two.”
Mart was waiting for her just outside the kitchen door. “Survived sharing the kitchen with my aunt?” he whispered, dropping a kiss next to her ear.
“Just,” she breathed. “Can I sit down, now? I don’t think I ever want to see another dirty dish.”
“If we can find a space.”
He did find them a space, but only with room enough for one. Mart sank into the corner of the sofa and pulled his new wife into his lap, wrapping both arms around her.
“How, exactly, will we give or receive presents like this?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Watch and learn from the master,” he said.
Di watched as her father-in-law drew the attention of the whole crowd and the gift exchange began. As Mart had apparently known, she need not have worried about giving the presents: Peter Belden made sure that part of the proceeding went smoothly with no one having to leave his or her seat. When it came time for them to unwrap a gift, she simply moved from Mart’s lap to the arm of the sofa. It was not as comfortable, but it was practical.
“We’ll have to go soon,” Mart whispered, as she admired the scarf that his parents had given her. “We don’t want to be late getting to your parents’ place.”
She sighed, wishing that they did not have to leave this happy muddle for the cold formality of a Lynch Estate Christmas. “I guess,” she said, sliding back into his lap and displacing the novel that Trixie had given him. He gave her one final squeeze, before standing, taking her up with him.
“My wife and I will have to be leaving, now,” he announced over the background chatter. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to spend here with you, but we hope you all have a very Merry Christmas.”
The room was suddenly filled with a jumble of greetings, as everyone moved to say goodbye at once. At last, Mart and Di, along with all of their belongings, made it to the kitchen door and out to their car.
“And now to the lion’s den,” said Mart, lightly.
“Please, don’t say that,” Di asked, feeling tears burn in her eyes. She quickly got into the car, waiting for him to join her before continuing. “It’s bad enough that I feel that way, without you saying it.”
“I’m sorry, my sweet,” he replied, as he turned on the ignition. “I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you’re imagining.”
She said nothing in response.
An hour later, while waiting between courses of a lavish dinner, Di found a moment to tell Mart how she felt. Her parents were engaged in a minor dispute at the far end of the table, both trying to get Harrison to fix the matter, but by different methods.
“You were right,” Di whispered, leaning as close to her husband as she could. “This isn’t as bad as I was imagining: it’s worse.”
“So, you wouldn’t be offended if I said I didn’t want to do this again next year?” he whispered back.
For the first time in an hour, Di smiled. “Mum; Dad,” she said, in a voice which cut through the argument. “I don’t think it matters whether we’ve got the right kind of forks – or even if we’ve got any forks at all. If Christmas is going to be a series of arguments over whether we’re doing things right, I don’t think that Mart and I will be here next year.”
“Take us with you,” begged one of her brothers, closely followed by the other three siblings.
“Let’s have a Christmas without any forks,” said her sister Jessie. “I think I hate forks.”
“Me, too,” added Cassie, nodding to her twin. “In fact, I think I might throw mine out right now.”
“Girls!” cried their mother, as they showed signs of literally throwing the cutlery. “Please, calm down. Diana, I think that was a very hurtful thing to say. After all of the things that we’ve had to deal with this year,” she said, wiping a tear away from her eye, “the least you could do is be civil.”
“Please, don’t say that, Mummy,” said Jessie, looking as if she might cry, too. “Di’s right: forks are stupid and this is no fun at all. Next year, can we just forget about the fancy stuff and have a good time, like we used to?”
Di watched in amazement as her mother looked from one child to another, starting at the youngest and working her way upwards. She’s sorry for them, she thought, in wonder. She’s sorry for how our disagreement over my marriage has affected them. How does she feel about me, though? Is she really so angry with me, still? There was a hard look in her mother’s eye when it rested on Diana. Yes, she’s still angry; just as angry as ever.
Friday, February 4, 2005
“Will you stop that?” demanded an angry voice from somewhere inside the house. “You don’t get extra rights, just because there’s two of you, you know.”
Sighing deeply, Di turned her key in the door and went inside, knowing that she was about to step into another argument. Almost every night, the same thing happened: she would arrive home from a long day at work, wanting nothing but some peace and quiet, only to find a disagreement in progress. Is this ever going to stop? she wondered.
“I’m home,” she called, trying to sound cheery. Her husband and his sister were right in front of her, standing toe to toe and glaring at each other. She gave Mart a peck on the cheek on her way past, saying, “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve taken off these shoes.”
Once inside their room, however, she slumped onto the bed, swinging her handbag down beside her. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out another sigh. Sometimes, it seemed as if Trixie and Mart had gone back ten years – to a time when they could hardly look at each other without fighting. With an effort, she returned to the task at hand – taking off her high-heeled shoes – and willed herself to find out what the trouble was this time.
“It has nothing to do with wanting special treatment,” Mart was saying, sounding more than a little irritated, as she walked back through the bedroom door. “It’s just ordinary consideration for other people. Period.”
“You don’t see me asking for that sort of consideration,” Trixie replied. “Jim and I just have to deal with it.”
“Neither of you is working full time,” he began to reply, breaking off as Di threaded her arm around his waist.
“What’s the trouble?” she asked, giving him a squeeze.
“Nothing,” Mart muttered. “We’re just discussing the fact that someone was supposed to clean up the kitchen this morning, but they still haven’t done it.”
“That is just not true, Mart Belden, and you know it,” his sister quickly contradicted. Di barely contained herself from rolling her eyes. “If you had bothered to ask me before you crossed out your own name on the roster and put mine in instead, you would have known that I couldn’t clean up this morning: I had to leave before breakfast.”
“Ask you?” he demanded, incredulous. “If you hadn’t put my name there in the first place, I wouldn’t have to change it at all.”
“Does it really matter?” Di interjected, before the conflict escalated into an all-out war. “Why don’t we all go to the kitchen now and clean it up?”
“You don’t have to do that, kitten,” Mart said, gently stroking her cheek with one finger. “You’ve had a hard day at work. Why don’t you go and have a nice rest and I’ll bring you a hot drink in a few minutes?”
Trixie let out an angry sound and practically flounced out of the room, leaving Mart looking after her in confusion.
“What is her problem?” he asked, shaking his head. “First she chews me out over the mess in the kitchen, now this.”
“Well, I can kind of see her point,” Di admitted, watching him carefully for signs of anger. “Changing the roster without asking is almost the same as not changing it at all and just not doing what you’re supposed to do.”
“No, it isn’t,” he said, stubbornly.
For what seemed like the twentieth time since arriving home, Di let out a sigh. When is he going to get it? she wondered. Trixie is so jealous of the supposed advantages we have as a married couple. He really needs to tread gently around her until she’s gotten over it.
“Mart?” she said, rather tentatively. “I think it’s time to admit that us getting married is a lot more complicated than just moving into the same room.”
“No, it isn’t,” he repeated. “We’re not the ones who are causing the problems here.”
“Yes, we are, Mart,” she said, feeling angry now. “We’re changing and it’s upset things in the household. If we want some peace, we’d better start considering other people – especially Trixie.”
“She’s just got a bee in her bonnet about some kind of double standard,” he said with a frown. “That’s her problem, not mine.”
“I don’t agree,” she replied. “I think we owe it to Trixie to treat her with respect.”
He let out a sigh of his own. “Why did you have to put it like that?” he asked. “Now I’ll have to go and apologise to her.”
“I think it would be for the best if you did,” his wife agreed with a little smile. “And, on Monday when I get home from work, could you please try to not be fighting with her?”
“I think I could give that an attempt,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But only because it was you who asked.”
Monday, February 14, 2005
With a final glance in the mirror, Di decided that she was ready. Outside of the bedroom she shared with Mart, he was waiting for her. She did not know where he was taking her, but hoped that it would be somewhere that warranted the dress she had chosen.
Our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple should be romantic, she thought, as she quickly checked the contents of her bag. I hope he realises that! She opened the bedroom door and stepped out, finding most of the household watching for her with curiosity.
“You look lovely, Di,” said Honey, who was standing closest to the door. “I’m sure that Mart will be impressed.”
“Where is he?” she asked, after thanking her friend.
Before anyone could respond, her husband appeared in the doorway, his eyes telling her that Honey had been right. To her immense relief, he was dressed well enough to look right with what she was wearing.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his hand to her. She nodded her assent and let him escort her outside to the waiting car. “You look radiant,” he whispered, as he handed her into her seat. “I’m so glad that you’re mine.”
“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” she replied, smiling up at him. The door closed and, a moment later, he joined her. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, now?”
“Wait and see,” he said, giving her a special smile.
Now, what does he mean by that? she wondered, smiling at the idea that came to mind at his words. Is there any way he could have arranged for a dinner at our special place? She cast her mind over the possibilities. It’s far too cold for us to be actually going there, but is there somewhere with a view? In her mind’s eye, she saw the restaurant across the lake from their special place; a very expensive restaurant.
Di’s excitement was growing. From the direction that Mart was driving, there could be little doubt that the lakeside restaurant was their destination. A tiny voice wondered how he could afford it, but she drowned it out. Mart loved her and wanted tonight to be special. That was enough.
A few minutes later, he parked the car outside the restaurant and helped her out. They walked together towards the entrance, catching occasional glimpses of the lake beyond. The moon threw silver reflections across the water and bathed the area in a gentle light.
Once inside, they were soon shown to their table. The white cloth, flowers and candles set a romantic scene. Right next to their table, a large window overlooked the water. Just visible in the moonlight was their special place.
“Oh, Mart!” she said, when she caught sight of it. “This is just perfect! Thank you, so much!”
“You’re very welcome, my love,” he said, smiling gently. “I just wanted you to enjoy a romantic evening.”
“It is,” she said, a tender look in her eyes. “Thank you, Mart. This is the most perfect night I could imagine.”
Monday, February 21, 2005
The last few hours had been the most nerve-wracking of Di’s entire life. Hard as it was to believe, there was something more intimidating than facing her father’s disapproval and mother’s hysteria when telling them that she was getting married, aged eighteen. That she would be so terrified by seeing her mother-in-law go into labour, she had no idea.
It’s going to be okay, she told herself, gripping the steering wheel and trying to concentrate on driving. We’re nearly there now. She stole a glance at her passenger, Helen Belden, and took comfort from her calm expression.
“You need to turn here,” Helen said, drawing her attention back to the task at hand.
With enormous relief, Di indicated to turn into the hospital car park. A dark blue sedan blocked the drive, taking what seemed like an inordinately long time to decide to pull out. The other driver eventually cleared the way and she was able to pull into the drop-off area right next to the door.
Her father-in-law was waiting at the hospital entrance and Di thankfully gave Helen over into his care. There was an empty parking space nearby and she quickly took it, before anyone else could. I guess I’d better call home, she thought, heading for the public phone. She dialled her own number and waited, hoping that someone would be interested enough to pick up.
“Hello?” said Dan, sounding rushed.
“Hi, Dan, it’s Di. Are there any Beldens around at the moment?”
“Hang on. I’ll check.”
There was a thump, as he dropped the receiver onto the table, then the muffled sound of movement. A short time later, the sounds became louder and a new voice answered.
“Di? What’s happening?” It was Brian.
“I’m at the hospital,” she said. “I’ve just dropped your mother here and I thought I’d let you know before I headed back to your parents’ place. It looks like things are moving fairly quickly, so could you let Mart and Trixie know as soon as possible, please?”
“Will do,” he replied. “Thanks for calling, Di. We’ll meet you at Crabapple Farm, as soon as I can track them down.”
With a few more pleasantries, the conversation ended. Di looked at her watch, noting the time as being just past eleven. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember where Mart and Trixie would normally be at that time on a Monday. There was nothing left to do, but return to the farm and wait.
An hour passed, with neither word from the hospital, or any contact from Winter Rock. Deciding that it was still too soon for the Belden siblings to arrive, Di decided to make herself some lunch. Her food was almost ready to eat when the telephone rang.
“Crabapple Farm,” she said, after picking up. “Diana speaking.”
“Hello, Di,” said her father-in-law. “Nothing’s happened, yet. I just thought I’d check in, while I have a moment. Everything slowed down after we got here, so it might be some time to wait. Did you get in touch with Brian, Mart and Trixie?”
“I spoke to Brian,” she replied. “He didn’t know where the other two were, and I haven’t heard back, yet.”
“Fine; that’s fine,” he said, sounding distracted. “Well, I’ll call again when there’s any news.”
The conversation drew to a close and Di went back to her lunch, wondering what she would find to do to occupy herself while she waited.
Early in the afternoon, Di looked through the front window in time to see Brian’s car pulling into the driveway. She let out a silent sigh of relief: the wait might not be over, but she now had someone with whom to share the waiting. The sound of cheerful voices came to her, along with the slamming of car doors. She hurried to the kitchen door, where she knew the newcomers would enter, throwing the door open for them.
“Any news?” Trixie asked, entering the house ahead of her brothers. “Have you heard anything since you spoke to Brian?”
“Only that things had slowed down a little after they got there,” she replied, pausing to kiss her husband. “That was about an hour after I called.”
“Mart did that, too,” his sister said, digging him in the ribs. “Moms told me that she got sent home from the hospital twice, with him.”
“As opposed to Trixie,” added Brian with a grin, “who was in such a hurry that she very nearly got delivered in the hospital car park.”
He stepped into the kitchen, closely followed by Honey, who seemed to be shyly standing back from the others. Di wondered why she had even elected to come with them, when she probably had classes that she should have been attending.
“Does anyone want a hot drink?” Di asked, taking the kettle to the sink to be filled.
“Let me do that,” said Honey, apparently glad to have something useful to do. “What will everyone have?”
Within a few minutes, the drink orders were sorted out and everyone but Honey was sitting around the kitchen table. Mart had found some cookies, which Honey attractively arranged on a plate, thoughtfully keeping it aside until the drinks were ready.
Their snack was well underway, amidst lively conversation, when the telephone rang. Trixie picked it up before it had finished its first ring, setting it on speaker so that everyone could hear.
“Well?” she said, without letting the caller identify themselves. “What’s happening?”
“You have a sister. We’ve called her Nicola Pearl.”
“Nicola?” said Trixie, with such utter disbelief that Di had to suppress a smile. “Nicola? You saddled me with ‘Beatrix’ and you’re calling her Nicola?”
“Maybe we learned our lesson,” said her father, with a smile in his voice. “Or maybe, we like her better.”
“I bet you do,” said his elder daughter. “How is Moms?”
“Fine. Very tired, but just fine. She’ll want to see you all later.”
“Give her our love. So, when can we visit? I want to meet my little sister.”
“You’ll have to wait for visiting hours,” he said, giving her the times.
“We’ll be there,” she promised. “Thanks for calling, Dad, and congratulations.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll see you all later.”
As the Belden siblings all talked at once, Honey and Di sat quietly at the table and let them share this moment. Honey leaned over to her friend and whispered, “Trixie’s certainly excited about this.”
“She told me that she was afraid she’d get another brother,” Di replied, keeping her voice low. “I don’t think it would’ve hurt her, though.”
“Any baby would be just wonderful,” said Honey, in a strangely wistful voice. “I can’t wait for the time when I can have one of my own.”
“Can’t you?” her friend asked, wondering if she sounded as surprised as she felt. That’s the last thing I’d want right now, she thought. I’ve got so much I want to do before then. Aloud, she said, “You don’t really mean that, do you?”
Apparently, her shock at the idea had shown through, as Honey rapidly began to backpedal, saying, “Of course, I don’t mean now, or soon, or anything, just that I hope, one day, but not too far in the future – not like those women who leave it so late that they’re forty or something – not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I don’t think it’s for me, if you know what I mean?”
“I think so,” said Di, her brows knit in confusion. “I know what you mean about leaving things too late. I don’t want to do that, either. I just don’t feel ready to really think about babies just yet. We’ve only been married for not-quite two months. It’s a bit early for that, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” said Honey, now seeming quite embarrassed. “That’s what I meant: sometime in the future, when I’ve been married for a while. Definitely not after only two months.”
“Definitely,” Di agreed, in a firm voice. “My parents would kill me if I did that!”
Part Two: Brian
Monday, February 21, 2005
Tapping gently on the door to his mother’s room, Brian waited for a response before letting himself in. Behind him, his brothers and sister were ready to push past him and get inside. The door gave a soft creak as it opened.
“Come in,” their mother said, smiling up at them. “She’s awake and ready to meet you.”
The first thing that Brian noticed about the tiny bundle in his mother’s arms was her abundant dark hair. Finally, it seemed, he had a sibling with the Belden – rather than Johnson – colouring.
“Oh, look at you,” said Trixie, unable to contain her impatience any longer and pushing her way to the front. “Moms! She’s so tiny and delicate and, with all that dark hair, she looks kind of like the old photos of Brian.”
Bobby let out a snort, saying, “But she’s a girl.”
“At least she’s got hair,” Mart told him, giving him an elbow to the ribs. “You hardly had any until you were three.”
“Hey! That’s not right,” Bobby objected. “Moms, tell him that’s not right.”
“Would one of you like to hold her?” his mother asked, instead of answering the question.
“Uh, not me,” said Bobby, quickly. “Let Trixie.”
“Maybe not,” Trixie demurred, for once seeming uncertain. “She’s so little.”
“I will,” said Brian, stepping forward with a smile.
He took the tiny infant from his mother, settling into a chair next to her. His other siblings gathered around, each seeming fascinated, but still a little wary of touching their new sister. Nicola let out a squawk of displeasure at being moved, but soon settled again, gazing up at him with unfocussed eyes.
“Welcome to the family, little sister,” he said, in a low voice.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
The house was still blanketed in an early morning peacefulness when Brian sat down to breakfast. The Saturday paper, an indulgence that he managed to keep up, no matter how dire his financial situation ever seemed to get, lay on the table next to his plate. He took a slow sip of his coffee and stretched the paper out in front of him.
Half an hour passed. The coffee cup had been drained, refilled and drained again; his plate held nothing but crumbs and the peel of an orange. By now, most of the newspaper had been read. Brian turned the page, discovering that he had come to the Personals, a section that he normally did not read. As he started to fold it up again, something caught his eye.
I could have sworn that said ‘Belden’, he thought, flattening the page out to check. His brow creased into a frown as he read:
Belden-Frayne Party - Trixie and Jim would like to announce an un-engagement party, to mark the fact that we’re living together and not going to get married. Tonight at 8 pm, 37 Maple Street, Winter Rock.
“Trixie!” he yelled, oblivious to the fact that half the household was closer to him than she was. “Trixie! Get out here, right now!”
He stormed off towards her room, pounding a fist on the door to emphasis his order. Her voice, through the closed door, sounded indignant as she told him to settle down. A few long minutes wait later, it opened to reveal a very angry sister.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea what time it is? I was asleep!”
“What do you mean by this?” he asked, waving the paper in her face.
“Mean by it?” she asked, seeming confused. “It appears to be your copy of today’s Winter Rock Gazette. Hey! I didn’t think you read the Personal Column. Is there something you want to share?”
“That’s what I’m asking you,” he replied, getting angrier by the moment. “If you think it’s funny to place advertisements, rather than talk to your friends and family–”
“What are you talking about?” she interrupted. “I haven’t been placing any advertisements.”
She took the paper from his unresisting hand, frowning as she looked for the correct place. Even Brian, in his fury, could tell that she was shocked to find the notice there. Her face paled and her hands started to shake.
“I’ve got to talk to Jim,” she said, in a faint voice.
For a moment, it seemed that she didn’t know where she was; she turned to go back into her room, then apparently realised what she was doing, pushing past her brother to walk through the house. Brian followed, watching from a few paces away as she pounded on her boyfriend’s door.
“What is it?” he heard Jim say, when the door opened. To Brian’s relief, his friend was fully dressed. “What’s all the noise about?”
“Just look at this,” said Trixie, pushing the paper into his hand.
In stark contrast to his girlfriend’s reaction, Jim turned a vivid red. He was apparently struck speechless with rage, taking several minutes to calm down enough to talk, in which time the two Beldens continued their stand-off.
“This is your own fault,” Brian said, adding fuel to the already blazing fire. “If you behaved in a more respectable manner, this sort of thing wouldn’t be possible.”
“We didn’t do this,” Trixie defended, turning to face her brother. “We’re not doing anything wrong; we didn’t place the ad and, as far as I’m concerned, it bears no relation to our actual intentions. Someone has done this to damage us. You shouldn’t play into their hand.”
“That’s beside the point,” he returned. “It was your behaviour that inspired this. You have to take some responsibility.”
“Can you keep it down?” Mart interrupted, arriving on the scene. “Di isn’t feeling well and she needs her sleep.”
“Just look at this,” said Brian, snatching the paper from Jim’s hands and shoving it in his brother’s face.
“Trixie!” exclaimed Mart, in outrage.
“It wasn’t us,” she ground out, between clenched teeth. “It had nothing to do with us.”
“If you weren’t living with Jim, this wouldn’t be happening now, would it?” he asked, unconsciously echoing Brian.
“I am not living with Jim! We just happen to live in the same household.”
“It’s not much different,” said Brian.
“So, you’re practically living with Honey, then?” she asked, in sickly sweet tones.
“We are not!” said Honey, joining the group. “What’s going on?”
“Just look at this,” snapped Mart, handing her the paper.
“But, Trixie,” she said, brow creased in confusion, “aren’t we working on the Lucy site tonight?”
“For about the hundredth time,” Trixie replied, “we didn’t place the ad. It’s a hoax.”
“And one for which you are, at least, partly to blame,” added Mart.
“I think you’re all missing the main point here,” said Jim, finally regaining the power of speech. “What are we going to do to stop the party? Someone, other than us, is bound to see this. Once they do, it’ll be all over town.”
“You’re right,” cried Honey, eyes wide with alarm. “What do you think we should do, Jim? Do you want us all to stay here and lock ourselves in, or should we all go out and leave the house locked? I’m sure we could get some sort of extra security, either way, to make sure that people stay out. Anything else?”
“A big sign, too,” said Trixie, “saying that the announcement is a fraud.”
“I think it would be safer for us to all stay home,” Jim suggested, after a moment’s thought. “We don’t know how long people will keep turning up; they make be still arriving long after we would all want to get to bed. I’ll have to see about some security guards.”
Brian followed Jim away from the other three, who continued to discuss the matter at the tops of their voices. “Anything I can do?” he asked, as Jim pulled out the telephone directory.
“Not at the moment,” Jim replied, thumbing through the pages. “So long as I can get someone to keep watch outside and turn people away, I don’t think there’ll be a problem.” He laughed, without humour. “The only other thing I’ve got in mind is that the paper will be receiving a strongly-worded letter from my lawyer – as soon as I can get that arranged.”
Finding the number he wanted, Jim picked up the phone and dialled. After a moment’s wait, Brian heard him begin a most satisfactory conversation, in which, it was apparent, the security firm offered a variety of options.
“Well, that’s all settled,” he said, putting the receiver down. “They’ll be here a couple of hours ahead to familiarise themselves with the area, then they’ll stay all night. I’ve told them, too, that they’re not to cancel the job under any circumstances. If there’s anything I’ve learned lately, it’s that my identity isn’t safe.”
“So, really,” added Brian, “there’s nothing to do, but wait.”