occasion. At least the old lady sounded in fine fettle, which apparently was more than could be said for Aunt Deb. Judith exited the garderobe to find Renie tugging at her unmanageable chestnut hair.
“It’s probably gas,” Renie said in a testy voice. “Mom, you feel puny every time I go more than five miles from Heraldsgate Hill. It’s nerves. You’re trying to make me feel guilty. It won’t work.” She put her hand over the speaker part of the phone. “It does work, but I won’t let her know it,” she whispered to Judith, who’d come to sit on the bed. “No,” Renie told her mother, “I’m not taking you to the doctor tomorrow. Ask one of your friends. You’ve got dozens of them.”
Judith wondered what was worse—Gertrude’s ornery disposition or Aunt Deb’s martyrdom. She waited for Renie to finish listening to her mother’s complaints and queries. “Yes, the bed’s clean,” Renie replied wearily. “No bugs in the food. The white slavers went to Florida. My shoes are sturdy, my nose isn’t running, my coat is plenty warm. No contact with germs, I won’t eat food off the floor, I wash my hands after…I
Looking drained, Renie clicked off the cell. “Auntie Vance and Uncle Vince came down from their place on the island and are taking Mom out to lunch. Then they’re going to see your mother. My poor ear!”
“I don’t even know if my mother knew it was me calling,” Judith complained. “She did her deaf bit, and I’m never sure if she really doesn’t hear or is just being contrary.”
Renie sat up. “Let’s eat in ten minutes, maybe have a drink first. That Old Engine Oil didn’t see me through the phone call.”
“Well…okay,” Judith said. “I imagine the Fordyces and the Flemings have moved on to the dining room. But…”
“What?” Renie said as she slipped into her shoes.
“I thought I’d call Mrs. Gunn about coming to see her tomorrow.”
“No apology!” Renie cried. “If you go, it’s on your own.”
Dialing for directory assistance, Judith shot Renie a look of reproach. “You have no remorse.”
Renie started shadowboxing.
Ignoring her cousin’s antics, Judith was again connected to Alison. “It’s me, Mrs. Flynn,” she said. “How long do you have to work?”
“I’m home,” Alison replied. “Nobody calls after I leave at five on the Sabbath. The rare request is trunked over to the phone in my bedroom.”
Renie continued punching at the air. “Remember the Alamo!” she cried. “Don’t Shoot Until You See the Whites of Their Eyes!” “Fifty-four Forty or Fight.” She frowned. “Or was it Forty-five Fifty?”
Walking to the window embrasure to get away from Renie’s distractions, Judith asked if Alison knew Mrs. Gunn’s phone number.
“Yes, she being such a good customer,” Alison said, and relayed the number to Judith. “Uh…is Mrs. Jones making amends?”
“Mrs. Jones doesn’t make amends,” Judith said with a stern look for Renie, who had removed a length of green and white twine from her luggage and was fashioning it into a garrote. “She’s unrepentant. But I’d like to apologize for her. I didn’t want to leave Mrs. Gunn with a bad impression of Americans. Most of us have good manners.”
“Oh,” Alison said, “I’m sure you do. I’m afraid Mrs. Gunn can be aggravating. And your cousin was in a hurry. Here’s the number.”
Judith thanked Alison before asking if Barry’s car had been towed.
“Aye,” Alison replied. “It’s gone to the shop. Barry’s on his way here now that he’s back on his bicycle.” She paused. “Well…almost here. He just fell off his cycle by the stoop. I must help him get up.”
Seeing that Renie was having some of her usual manual dexterity problems with the twine, Judith dialed Mrs. Gunn’s number. The voice that answered sounded like Kate Gunn.
“You may remember me from the drawing room at Grimloch last night,” Judith said after giving her name. “I’m calling to apologize for the altercation at the woolen shop with my cousin, Mrs. Jones.”
Renie had gotten the would-be garrote tangled on the bedstead and was uttering various obscenities.
“Can’t she speak for herself?” Mrs. Gunn demanded.
“Ah…she’s tied up right now.” Judith said as Renie stopped cursing and made a rude gesture. “May I drop by tomorrow to bring you a small gift to make up for your…inconvenience?”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Finally Mrs. Gunn posed an unexpected question: “When were you born?”
“You mean the date?”
“Year, date, time of day,” Mrs. Gunn said.
Judith rattled off the day and year, but confessed that she didn’t know the actual time. “I think it was in the morning.”
“It’s better to be exact,” Mrs. Gunn stated with a hint of reproach.
“I can’t,” Judith admitted, warily watching Renie, who had finally disentangled the twine. “Why do you ask?”
“So I can confer with my astrologer,” the other woman replied. “This information will have to do. I’ll ring you up tomorrow to let you know if and when I’m available.” She disconnected, leaving Judith with dead air and a puzzled expression.
Renie, who had been approaching Judith with a menacing look and the garrote in hand, stopped abruptly. “Now what?”
