You're losing me, Jenny said, smiling, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the gloomy conversation.
In the last few weeks, we've found evidence of a wolf on the grounds. We find mangled rabbits by the stables. We found one on our front stoop, in fact. And twice, in the morning after one of Freya's comas, we've found blood smeared on one of the downstairs windows, as if the wolf had stood there at the glass, its bloodied jowls foaming, wondering if it should try to break in.
The way Cora said all this, her demeanor in its presentation, left no room for doubt. The events she had described were ones that had transpired. Whether their meaning was the one she ascribed to them, or whether there was some more natural explanation, Jenny could not guess.
Ordinarily, she would have pooh-poohed any suggestion of the supernatural, of demons and curses and souls departing bodies to take the form of wolves. But these days, she had come to respect the unexpected, the unknown, to hold off disbelief and be prepared for any eventuality.
Cora seemed to shake off the mood that had possessed her. She smiled, raised a hand to play with her dark hair again. I'm sorry if I upset you. I invited you here before the worst of these things started, before we found the rabbits and the blood. I want you to have a good summer. You're teaching position will require a fresh young lady with a summer of sun and riding behind her.
I'm sure there's some explanation behind all this, Jenny said. Neither Freya or Frank act like possessed children.
They are wonderful, aren't they? Cora asked. She laughed. Maybe Richard is right. Maybe I am acting like a fool. I'll have to give it some more thought.
She hugged Jenny. you try to rest now. There are fresh towels for your shower. The television and the radio work. There's a good FM station already set on the dial. We'll see you at seven-thirty.
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
Jenny went to the south window and untied the golden cords which held the umber drapes away from the glass. The heavy velvet panels fell into place, shutting out the cold, wet fury of the storm. She did the same at the other window, put the cords on top of her dresser.
The room was almost dark now.
She found the light switch, turned the lamps on.
She inspected the room more closely, determined to squeeze the story of the curse from her mind and to enjoy her first day in the Brucker mansion. Just when she had become engrossed in a study of the novel titles on the bookshelves, carefully avoiding the crimson volumes, her attention was brought abruptly back to the dark air that hung about the household. Outside, the wind shrieked in the eaves directly above her window, gibbered and howled, moaned and hissed like something trying to get in to her
3
The atmosphere had not improved by dinnertime. Jenny was the last to enter the family dining room, but she could sense the tension in the air and the fact that Richard and Cora had recently had words about something. Neither of them looked at each other, and both seemed relieved to have Jenny join them, as if her presence would keep either of them from taking up a subject that could only cause argument.
There were only three place settings. Richard and his mother sat at opposite ends of the small table, and Jenny took the place between them. Aren't the twins eating with us? she asked.
They always have their meal at five-thirty. They have an eight-o'clock bedtime until they reach their eighth birthday. Then they can stay up until nine. If they earn the increase. I don't believe in letting children have privileges they don't earn.
The door between the dining room and the main kitchen swung outward, and a short, somewhat heavy but pleasantly attractive woman forced her way through, carrying a serving dish full of whipped potatoes. I'm ready for you, Richie, she said.
Richard smiled, obviously delighted with the newcomer, and rose from his place, disappearing through the swinging door.
Jenny, Cora said, also smiling, this is Anna, Harold's wife. She cooks like a dream, even though she is rather bossy.
How do you do, Jenny said.
I'm fine. I'm always fine, Anna said. It's everybody else around here who's hard to get along with!
Richard returned from the kitchen carrying a tray with four serving bowls on it. There was coleslaw, green beans sprinkled over with slivers of almonds, creamed corn and peas with onions in butter sauce. He put the tray on the table, to Anna's left, and went back to the kitchen while the maid quickly distributed the individual dishes along the center of the table.
Everything looks delicious, Jenny said.
You'll find that it tastes every bit as good as it looks, Anna said.
Richard had just returned with a ham set on a field of parsley. That's our Anna, he said, chuckling. She's so modest that you can rarely get a word out of her.
Just don't make any smart remarks about the food, Anna said. Or you'll be eating elsewhere. Did you get everything?
Yes, Anna, Richard said.
She surveyed the table. You forgot the rolls.
She hurried into the kitchen, came back with the rolls, plunked them down next to Jenny. If I don't serve correctly, she told Jenny, it's because that's usually Harry's job. But nobody cooks better.
With that, she was gone.
She's great, isn't she? Richard asked.
She sounds wonderful, Jenny agreed. Anna's bragging was not the outgrowth of some enlarged ego. She could cook well, and she knew it. Her bragging was based on accomplishment and a pride in tasks well done.
She won't let me in the kitchen, Cora said. But I'd look foolish trying to compete with her anyway.
I hope Harold isn't ill, Jenny said. She remembered how he had brought the umbrella to her in the storm this afternoon. A man his age should not be about in such miserable weather.
No, no, Cora said. He's fine.
Richard watched his mother as he dished green beans onto his plate. When she was obviously not about to say anything more, he passed the serving bowl to Jenny and said, Freya has had one of her attacks. Harold is upstairs sitting by her bedside. It's a precaution we try to take most times it happens. One or two nights a week, one of us loses a night's sleep.
Jenny said nothing. She knew, now, what the argument must have been about just before she came into the room. Richard had been trying to persuade Cora to let him take Freya to a psychiatrist, and Cora had been sticking to her guns, as before.
Aside from a few comments about the marvelous quality of the food, no one said much for the first fifteen minutes of the meal. Silverware clanked. Ice cubes rattled in glasses. They made chewing sounds. Gentle background music came from hidden speakers. Nothing else.
Then Richard spoke, as if there had not been a break in his argument with Cora, as if twenty minutes had not passed since Jenny had entered the room. His eyebrows were drawn close together, his brow wrinkled. At least, he said to Cora, let me take her into the city for a few days of tests.
Cora put her fork down, dismayed that the scene should be picked up again just when she thought the curtain had been rung down for the night. I have already said no, Richard.
But
why?
If there's something physically wrong with Freya, we must-
There isn't anything physically wrong, Cora said.
How can you be sure?
Dr. Malmont assures us.
He's only one doctor.
Cora sighed. Richard, don't try to make me look like a villain in front of Jenny. You know perfectly well that we had Freya in the hospital for an entire week a month ago. They ran every test on her imaginable. She is in perfect health. There aren't even any allergies, obvious ones at least, to account for these things.
For a brief moment, he looked mollified. Then he said, I should still take her to another doctor.
You mean a psychiatrist, Cora said.
Why not?
Because, I know how frightened Freya was in the hospital. The child cried when she came home and asked me not to send her back there again. I do not want her, in her present state, to have to face the ordeal of another session with a doctor.
All children are frightened of doctors, Richard said. But that doesn't mean they shouldn't be taken for their vaccinations just the same. His tone of voice had gotten progressively less respectful until it was now little more than a grumble of anger.
Jenny continued to eat, trying to remain out of this. She did not approve, in the least, of the way Richard was speaking to his mother.
Love and understanding will help Freya, Cora said. Good food and a good home. It's the life she remembers with her mother that still bothers her. You know how bad she had it with Lena.
Love? Richard asked. Is that what it tells you in your books? Will love dissipate the age-old Brucker family curse, Cora?
That's quite enough, Cora said.
I'm speaking for Freya's good, Richard insisted, dropping his spoon and leaning over his plate, staring intently over the serving dishes. His dark eyebrows met above his nose.
And you're insinuating that I am not speaking for her best interests. Is that it?
Jenny had never seen Cora angry before. She could tell that the woman was prepared to lash out, cuttingly, if this exchange should continue for much longer.
Richard sank back in his chair. No, Cora, he said. I realize you're as worried about Freya as I am. But don't you see- Don't you see that the best way is professional help?
What I see, Cora said, is that we have embarrassed our guest and made her first regular meal with us-well, awkward.
That's all right, Jenny said, cutting a piece of ham. The food was really quite good, though she had lost most of her appetite. She just wanted to rise and ask to be excused. Maybe she could lose herself in a good book tonight. Except that, by not eating she would embarrass both Richard and Cora-and infuriate dear Anna who was so proud of her culinary art.
Richard cleared the table while Anna brought dessert and coffee. She had made a special surprise to conclude the meal, an ice cream cake with four different flavors in eight different layers. It must have taken most all afternoon for this dish alone. She was a woman who loved her work. And her love produced, especially in this instance, a dish that was wildly delicious, even though the argument and the constant gloomy expectancy that hung over the mansion had dulled Jenny's appetite.
Well? Anna asked once the dessert had been taken and the extra cups of coffee had been poured. She clasped her hands before her and smiled, vulnerable to a rejection but fairly certain that she would receive praise.
It was marvelous, Anna, Jenny said. She did not have to stretch the truth to give the woman the reply she wanted. I don't think I'll be able to move from this chair for a week!
That pleased Anna. A murmured agreement from Cora and Richard finished her reward. She went back into the kitchen, smiling broadly and humming some vaguely familiar tune to herself.
Jenny exchanged amused glances with Cora and Richard. Anna was some cook, and some character!
What do you think of the Brucker mansion? Richard asked. He was watching her over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee.
Unexplainably, she remembered that he had opened her suitcases upon placing them in her room. She had still not been able to decide whether or not he had been snooping, whether such a gesture was only meant as a final courtesy. But this very direct gaze of his seemed to pry at her own eyes, to peel back her brain and seek for secrets. She didn't like that at all.
My room is wonderful, she said. I'm anxious to explore the grounds and do some riding. I can't thank both of you enough. This is just what I need to prepare me for teaching this fall.
She thought he looked surprised at her answer, as if he had expected some other reaction. As if, perhaps, he had been hoping that she would say that she did not like it here and that she wanted to leave
Or that might be her overworked suspicion again. Why would he want her out of the house? He had always treated her well, hadn't he? She remembered, suddenly, that he had been half an hour late picking her up at the bus terminal. Before she could enquire about that, however, they were interrupted by the soft yet penetrating chimes of the front doorbell.
That will be Dr. Malmont, Richard said, laying his napkin on the table and rising from his chair. I'll show him here. Perhaps he'd like some coffee on a night like this.
When Richard had left the room, Cora smiled at Jenny and spoke conspiratorially. You'll have to forgive Richard his temper. He is very concerned for Freya, as we all are. But there are no more medical tests to be administered. I won't send that frightened dear to another hospital-nor to a psychiatric clinic. I'm going to try my darndest to make love turn the trick with her. She got no love from her mother. I'm trying to make up for that. If I can't, maybe I'll finally let her see Richard's psychiatrist. But before I do-
They were interrupted by Dr. Malmont who was mopping rain from his large, florid face. Richard came close behind him.
The doctor almost drowned, Richard said, laughing.
And I intend to go home straightaway after seeing Freya-and there I'm going to begin construction of an ark!
He was so jolly in appearance, heavy, with pleasant jowls, quick and pudgy hands, too much belly and too much hip, that whatever amusing thing he said seemed twice as funny as it truly was. He was no more than forty-five, with just a touch of gray at his temples. Though a heavy man, he was dressed neatly and well in clothes tailored for his bulk.