all in. She was quite definite about that. The sooner the quicker.
The only thing that sometimes worded her was the pos-sibility of her mother finding out that she was earning her living as a cheap tart. Well, no, that wasn't mae. An expen-sive tart, as her current client would soon be discovering yet again. Yes, fairly expensive; but that didn't stop her feeling very cheap.
At the second knock, she rose from the bed, straightened her left stocking, and was now opening the door. Within only a couple of minutes opening her legs, too, as she lay back on the constricted width of the bed, her mascara'ed eyes focusing on a discoloured patch of damp almost imme-diately above her head.
Almost immediately above his head, too.
It was all pretty simple, really. The trouble was it had never been satisfying, for she had rarely felt more than a minimal physical attraction towards any of her clients. In a curious way she wished she cou M sd feel. But no. Not so far. There was occasionally a son of wayward fondness, yes. And in fact she was fonder of this particular fellow than any of the others. Indeed, she had once surprised her-self by wondering if when he died well, he was nearly sixty-seven--she might manage to squeeze out a dutiful tear.
It had not occurred to her at the time that there are other ways of departing this earthly life; had not occurred to her, for example, that her present client, Dr. Felix Mc Clure, for-mer Ancient History don of Wolsey College, Oxford, might fairly soon be murdered.
A highly geological home-made cake (CHARLES DICKENS, Martin Chuzzlewit)
Only one communication, it appeared, was awaiting Jul Stevens that same day when she returned home just aft 5 v..: a brown envelope (containing a gas bill) propped against the table-lamp just inside her small entrance-hall The white envelope, unsealed, lay on the table in ti living-room; and beside it was a glac6-iced cake, the leger 'Happy Birthday, Mrs. Stevens' piped in purple on a whi background, with an iced floral arrangement in violet m green, the leaves intricately, painstakingly crafted, m clearly the work of an expert in the skill.
Although Brenda Brooks had been Julia's cleaning-lady fi almost four years now, she had never addressed her er ployer as anything but 'Mrs. Stevens'; addressed her '. again now, just as on the cake, in the letter folded inside t J (NSPCC) birthday card.
Dear Mrs. S,
Just a short note to wish you a very happy birthday & I hope you will enjoy your surprise. Don't look at it too closely as I had a little 'accident' & the icing isn't perfect. When I'd made the flowers & whe they were drying a basin fell out of the cupboard & smashed the lot. After saying something like 'oh bother' I had to start again. Never mind I got there in the end.
Regarding my accident I will tell you what reall2, happened. My husband decided to pick a fight a few weeks ago & my doctor thinks he could have broken a bone in my hand & so I can't squeeze the bag very well. I was due to start another icing course next week but he has saved me 38 pounds 00 pence Have a lovely day & I will see you in the morning--can't wait.
Love & bst wishes,
Brenda (Brooks) th
After re-reading the letter, Julia looked down lovingly at e cake again, and suddenly felt very moved--and very negr Y. Brenda (she knew) had hugely enjoyed the cake-ec0rating classes at the Tech. and had become proudly Proficient in the icer's art. All right, the injury was hardly i f cosmic Julia realised that; in its proportions, yet own 1.ttle-world way the whole thing was so terribly sad. And as sne looked at the cake again, Julia could now, s, ee what xrenda had meant. On closer inspection, the 'Mrs.' was re ally a bit of a mess; and the loops in each of the 'y's in ;, Happy Birthday' were rather uncertain---decidedly wob Y, in fact--as if formulated with tremulous fingers.
'La Cks her usual Daedalian deftness' was Julia the Peda Ogue's -, cool appraisal; yet something warmer, something ageeper inside herself, nrompted her to immediate action. h. e fetched her broad't, sharpest kitchen knife and care ully cut a substantial segment of the cake, in such a way as to include most of the mis-handled 'Mrs.'; and ate it all, traightaway.
Tle sponge-cake was in four layers, smated with cream, Soat Wberry jam, and lemon-butter icing. Absolutely deli us; and she found herself wishing she could share it with someone.
'P I want to say ,, ay.
, Where areyou phoning from, Keying'.
'Js' down the road--near the bus-shelter.'
'? VOuld you like to come along and have a piece b', O, Clay cake with me? I mean, it's your birthday, too, isn t it?,, 'h Ues stoppin' me, Miss? u phone went dead. And thoughtfully, a slight smile ar O nd her full lips, Julia retraced her steps to the living THE DAUGHTERS O[ CAIN room, Where she cut two more segments of cake, the sec ond of which sliced through the middle of the more obv ously malformed y, cut them with the same knife broadest, sharpest knife she had in all her kitchen armoum After working for two weeks on a hard crossword puzzle, Lumberjack Hafey, a teacher in Mandan, be-came a raving maniac when unable to fill in the last word. When found, he was in the alcove of the old homestead sitting on the floor, pulling his hair and shrieking unintelligible things (Illinois Chronicle, October 3, 1993)
Much earlier that same day, Detective Sergeant Lewis ha found his chief sitting well forward in the black-leath chair, shaking his head sadly over The Times crosswo puzzle.
'Not finished it yet, sir?'
Morse looked up briefly with ill-disguised disdai 'There is, as doubtless you observe, Lewis, one clue an one clue only remaining to be entered in the grid. The re I finished in six minutes flat; and, if you must know, witl out your untimely interruption--'
'Sorry!'
Morse shook his head slowly. 'No. I've been sitting he looking at the bloody thing for ten minutes.'
'Can I help?'
'Extremely improbable!'
'Don't you want to try me?'
