She plugged in the kettle before opening the swing door and looked toward the living room. She didn't like this new friend; had an unsettled feeling no good would come of this association. Her baby was so tender hearted and susceptible; living in Toronto, she was not able to look out for her best interests. During this convalescence she'd get her to come back to Lindsay. Her Sunshine was too much the ingenue for city life.
When Doris pushed open the door Betsy bounded in with great exuberance. Not just the tail, the whole body gyrated in excited greeting. She had just known her mistress was back. All her senses had told her so.
âBetsy, Betsy.'
Tenille put out both her arms to give her a big hug. Suddenly Betsy stopped as she realized a stranger was with them. She looked at her warily, but didn't growl, approaching cautiously, sniffing the air and testing the scent. Slowly, Sidonie reached out her hand and called her name softly, voice low and unthreatening. âHello Betsy ⦠Hello Little One.'
The bitch responded positively, giving the owner of the voice a steady gaze and a slow tail wag. âCome on,' she encouraged. âYou can come closer.'
Betsy, gaining courage, approached diffidently. Tenille was amused to watch this exchange. Betsy could be difficult with strangers, but today she was being, for her, very co-operative. Finally, capitulating totally, her head nestling between Sidonie's knees, she surrendered herself to pats and scratches behind the ears.
âShe's given into you,' Tenille observed with pleasure.
âShe probably knows I love animals.' Sidonie laughed into Betsy's face: âDon't you, Little One,' and was rewarded by a quick lick.
When Doris arrived with the tray she was surprised to see how won over Betsy had become. âI've made coffee for you and tea for us.' She turned to her daughter as she put the tray on the low table, informing her her father would be home shortly.
She had just finished passing round dainty cookies when they heard the car pull into the driveway. Mr. Fenech parked in the garage and entered the house through the side door calling out: âTennie, where are you?'
âWe're in the living room Dad,' she called back. As soon as Mr. Fenech appeared Sidonie could see at once where Tenille's dark good looks came from. Her height was obviously his too. Doris did have dark hair, but had adopted a tight, wavy perm. Everything about Mrs. Fenech, Sidonie reflected, was âtight'. Tenille's eyes were similar to Mr. Fenech's, but his were now deep set in a face beginning to sag, giving him a somewhat âhangdog' appearance, the lines running from the side of his nose to the corners of his mouth. Coming forward with eager steps, he leaned over the back of the chesterfield to hug his daughter from behind.
âTennie,' he exclaimed, after he'd released her: âHow good to have you home.' He then went round the coffee table and kissed his wife on the cheek. âHello dear. Tea I see.'
âDad, this is Sidonie.'
He stepped forward again as Sidonie rose to take his outstretched hand. âPleased to meet you,' she said politely. Feeling more at ease this time, she volunteered: âBetsy and I have been getting acquainted,' and she looked down at the bitch who, hearing her name, had sidled over to sit at her feet, ardent for more attention, her tongue lolling to one side with expectant pants.
âI see you're a hit with Betsy,' Mr. Fenech said generously. His wife gave no supporting comment, instead sharply reminded him his tea was getting cold.
As he took the stuffed chair on the other side of the table he turned his attention to his daughter. âWell Tennie, how's the leg coming along? Are you allowed to walk on it?'
âOh no Dad.' She pulled a face, just like when she was little he thought, when she'd been told it was time to go, or stop. âI'm stuck like this â¦' she put out the member in question â â¦for a few weeks yet. But the leg itself feels fine. It's a bit itchy inside the cast sometimes, but for the most part I've no complaints.'
She stroked Betsy's soft coat and ran her fingers through it, looking wistful. Alexander, ever a keen observer where his daughter's welfare was concerned enquired gently: âBut something is bothering you?'
She looked up and put a rather brittle smile on her face. âIt's nothing, really. Nothing serious, that is.'
Sidonie regarded Mr. Fenech and explained for Tenille. âIt sometimes gets her down that everything was going so well with her dancing; the future looked promising and now â¦' her voice trailed away.
âHer dancing?' broke in Mrs. Fenech precipitately. âSurely you weren't going to take that further than just a pastime, were you dear? There are lots of other things you can do.' She sipped from her china cup looking critically over its rim at her daughter. âCertainly better than being a performer â on the stage or wherever you danced. From all reports, those back street restaurants can be rather unsavory places for well brought up gels.' She took a deep breath and squared her round body as much as she could. âI for one, am glad you won't be frequenting them any more.' She finished this declaration with firm closure of her thin lipped mouth. Obviously, that was all there was to be said on the subject.
âGive yourself time, Tennie,' her father advised. âThis may not be the end, only a temporary setback, you'll see,' trying to alleviate her distress.
âWould you like a cookie, Sidonie?' Doris picked up the plate.
âNo thank you, Mrs. Fenech.'
âPerhaps we should bring our things in from the car,' Tenille suggested. She wanted an excuse to leave her mother's presence. Already she could feel herself getting uptight and resentful. She did love her, but sometimes she could be so unfeeling. She had her best interests at heart, she did know that.
Sidonie took her cue and jumped up. âI'll get the bags and you can show me where to take them.' Striding purposefully to the front door she then ran lightly down the steps, jingling the car keys. On her return Tenille was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking dubious.
âRather a lot of them,' Sidonie sized up. âJust tell me, I'll find my way.'
âNo. I want to come with you,' Tenille asserted. âI was just debating with myself if I'd use the crutches or hop.'
âTry hopping, Ten. If you hold the banister, that should be enough for you. I'll take your crutches up,' she offered.
âOkay, it's a deal,' she laughed, already her disposition improving. Sidonie had this effect on her. Standing on the landing, at the top of the stairs, Sidonie looked down and encouraged Tenille to give it a go.
âYou'll do fine, Ten, it's just that you've not done it before.' She smiled sympathetically. âYou're suffering from fear of the unknown. Anyway, if the worst comes to the worst you can always come up on your butt,' she reminded her. Watching the struggle to master this hurdle, she felt herself overcome by a flood tide of love. If she could, she would sprout wings and enfold her in uplifting arms, bearing her to her room and depositing her gently on the bed saying: “
There, my darling, you are safe with me.”
Instead, she surveyed her progress, one hop at a time, climbing laboriously to the top. She shouldn't interfere, Tenille had to master these things. Her leg would get stronger but, right now after almost a week of complete bed rest, it tired easily. Then she couldn't help herself, descending halfway to give her support.
âHere Honey, lean on me. Hop when I count to three.' Tenille pushed down on Sidonie's arm and hauled herself up with her right hand on the rail. In this manner they reached the top, both of them a little out of breath. In these old houses the incline was steep.
âHave a lie down. It's been a lot for one day.' They stood on the landing for a moment. âYou'll feel more refreshed for this evening, eh?'
âYes,' she let out a long sigh. âI think that's a good idea.' She smiled faintly. âI am feeling bushed.' Perspiration had formed a sheen on her brow; her cheeks were flushed. Crutches back in place, she turned right, hopping to the far end of the passage.
âMy room is this one. The guestroom is next to it at the very end. We have a connecting door because this used to be where the housekeeper lived and she had two rooms. Sidonie's eyebrows rose.
âNot in our time, silly. This is an Edwardian house. It was built for a man of modest means hence it only has two storeys.' They entered Tenille's room. âAt the other end of the house are my parent's rooms.'
âThey don't sleep together?' The question was out before she'd realized it.
âNo. Mother's a light sleeper and Dad has a tendency to snore. It's not real bad, but Mom makes a bit of a fuss over it.'
âI see. Well, let's get your shoe off and your leg up. It's been down for too long. See your toes? They're blue.' She lifted the leg then fetched a pillow from the bed that would be hers for a few days. She was making Tenille comfortable and just about to lean over to give her a kiss when Mrs. Fenech came in to see how things were progressing. She rushed over when she saw her daughter lying down, supplanting Sidonie as she crooned: âYou must be worn out my little lamb.'
Turning to Sidonie she instructed her peremptorily to leave her to rest. âAnyone can see she's exhausted,' she said, as though Sidonie couldn't. Back to Tenille: âI'll put your things away, Pet. I know where everything goes.' Thus occupied, Tenille shot Sidonie a sympathetic glance before closing her eyes. Her face was ashen by this stage and the dark smudges under her eyes gave her a frail defencelessness.
Sidonie retired to her room to see to her own unpacking. â
Mrs. Fenech doesn't like me. I know it. Why?”
she wondered. She had not, as far as she could see, done anything. She had not even been in the house more than two hours. But she knew it was true.
“I'll not give up.”
Once she got to know her, she would come round. Her belongings disposed of, she decided to take Betsy to investigate the back yard. She liked gardens and one day would love to have one of her own, with the house to go with it too, of course. Running speedily down the stairs with her light, easy tread, she encountered Mr. Fenech carrying a tray of things to the kitchen.
âWould it be OK Mr. Fenech, if Betsy and I took a look at the garden, while there's still light?' she asked.
âBy all means, my dear. In fact I'll come with you. I'll just set this down on the counter. Betsy.' he called back through the open door. âCome girl, were going outside.' She came bounding up with great eagerness, fur in a flurry, as she anticipated the treat in store.
The three of them spent a happy half hour before the gathering darkness and mosquitoes drove them in, strolling around what turned out to be an extensive area, the property stretching beyond the formal section. After the lawn a meandering path led between stately Maples, Trillium much in evidence although not in bloom this time of year. A lazy stream crossed the back of the land, its wooden bridge looking quite rickety. Mr. Fenech assured her appearances were deceptive. It had been repaired several times over the years, but all the wood was now a weathered grey.
Sidonie was impressed by the amount Mr. Fenech had accomplished. He had taken over a garden that he obviously cherished, but it was this seemingly wild and wooded section which appealed to her the most. She loved the way the path wended haphazardly amongst the trees. There were still one or two majestic Elms standing, but of course, long since dead. Clumps of Cedar and White Pine were in evidence, but the most prevalent trees were the Beeches. As they walked, their feet scuffing through a carpet of dry, russet leaves, a satisfying crunch was felt under foot. Betsy ran happily to and fro, sniffing out the strange scents and at the same time keeping tabs on everyone's whereabouts.
Father and friend got on exceedingly well. Mr. Fenech was impressed by the quality of this girl's questions. She struck him as a thinking, caring person who liked to look beyond the surface. Most people stopped their tour at the edge of the cultivated area and didn't pursue beyond, believing there was nothing to be seen in the supposed âbush'.
âDid your father like to garden too, Sidonie? Is that where you get your interest?'
âOh no. My dad skipped out when I was six, after the baby was born and anyway, we never had a garden. But I always loved the trees in the park and could spend hours, watching the squirrels getting ready for winter. Their tireless industry used to fascinate me; that and their feathery tails counter-balancing them.' They had stopped to lean on the Cedar rail fence which separated the two properties but now turned back. Alexander called Betsy to heel.
âI also used to make quite a bit of money in the summer vacations mowing peoples' lawns and doing general clean-ups. I got to enjoy the different styles of garden. I was never one to be indoors for long if I could help it.'
Alexander went on to ask what kind of work she did.
âWell, just now I'm working at the Racetrack. I took a year out from my studies to save some money. I've applied for a grant. I'm hoping not to have to take out a student loan. Once I graduate I'd dearly love not to have the burden of repayments round my neck?' she added earnestly.
âAre you interested in nursing, like Tenille, then?'
Sidonie looked horrified. âNot me,' she burst out, then laughed. âBut I do plan to nurse the sick. No, my interest is in animals. If all goes well,' she crossed her fingers in a childish gesture, âI should start my first year at Guelph in September. I completed all my course prerequisites at George Brown College in Toronto, then took this break. Next semester I'll be starting the good stuff,' she informed him, enthusiastically, the light of youthful zeal shining from her eyes. âI can't wait, only â¦' she trailed off, leaving her thoughts unverbalized. She had been on the point of saying, â â¦only it will mean parting from Ten.' Mr. Fenech had been so companionable she'd momentarily forgotten he was her father. Sensitive enough not to pursue the matter, he moved on instead to speak about Tenille's career. Then he patted Sidonie's shoulder. âTake my advice, my dear, don't get side-tracked into marriage until your studies are over, no matter how attractive and irresistible the young man. Then you can marry, travel ⦠what you will. You'll always be able to look after yourself.'