Jeremy turned to Wilkes. “What about files and records?”
“All safe. Most of the office wing on the ground floor was spared by the fire, but not by the firemen. They had to cut their way through ground floor walls in order to get at some of the worst spots on the floor above.”
“Then none of us can spend the rest of the night here?”
“Oh, no! There are a few spots still smouldering that may burst into flame again. The firemen will be here all night, and I’ll mount a guard to prevent looting.”
“I’ll go back to my own apartment in town,” said Tash.
“And the rest of you can come to my place at Fox Run,” added Job.
“Thanks,” said Jeremy. “But you’re pretty far out. I want to be in town near the hospital. Carlos and I can go to a hotel.”
“Then I’ll drive you and Carlos into town,” said Job. “Hilary, I can take you on to Fox Run. Jo Beth will be glad to have you, and Tash—”
“I’m taking Tash home,” said Bill.
“Oh?” Jeremy swung around to look at Bill. “You’re an old friend of hers, of course. I forgot.”
He came over to Tash and took both her hands in his. “Good night, Tash. I’m sorry I got you into all this. I’ll call you tomorrow. Take care of her, Bill.”
“Don’t worry. I will.”
Jeremy and Hilary, Job and Carlos all moved away toward the front drive. Bill and Tash followed more slowly.
“Why do I have to be taken care of?” mused Tash. “I’m not five years old.”
“But you do look nearer fifteen than twenty-five,” returned Bill. “Don’t worry. Youth is a disease that time cures fast enough.”
The telephone wakened her next morning at seven. “Is that Miss Tatiana Perkins? I have a person-to-person call from Rome. . . .”
“Oh, Daddy, you shouldn’t have bothered!”
“What do you expect me to do when my only daughter is all over the front pages of every newspaper? Are you all right?”
“Of course, I am.”
She was awake and expecting the second call when it came at eight.
“Miss Tatiana Perkins? Person-to-person call from Boston. . . .”
“Tash, darling, I’ve just seen the papers!”
“I’m all right, Mother, honestly!”
“But a fire! Would you like me to come down there?”
“No, Mother dear, thanks, but really, the fire is over and I was not hurt . . . Yes, of course, I’m going to rest today.”
This time when Tash put down the telephone, she went back to sleep.
The third call woke her at noon.
“May I come to breakfast?” It was Hilary’s voice. “I’d love to see you, but there isn’t a scrap of food in the place. The refrigerator is even turned off.”
“I’ll bring food. You turn on the refrigerator.” Hilary brought oranges and eggs, croissants and fresh butter, coffee, sugar, and cream.
She also brought newspapers.
All the locals, the Washington papers, and even the New York Times carried a photograph on the front page of Tash coming down the fire ladder in that photogenic, white negligee with Jeremy standing just above her on the balcony.
The news stories were all pretty much alike.
When firemen reached the scene of the fire they had some difficulty finding the Governor himself, who was with a member of his staff, Miss Tatiana Perkins. She was evacuated from her rooms by means of a ladder to one of her windows. The Governor went back into the burning building to bring out his wife, Vivian, with the help of one of his aides, Carlos de Miranda. Mrs. Playfair was taken to the hospital in a serious condition, and she is still on the critical list.
The only other casualty was her maid, Juana Fernandez, whose body was found by firemen early this morning on a flagstone terrace. Apparently, she had fallen from an upstairs window while trying to escape the fire.
“Poor Juana!”
“I know,” said Hilary. “Come and have your breakfast.”
When Hilary got to her first cigarette, Tash took her second cup of coffee over to the window seat.
“Thanks, Hilary. I needed that breakfast. When I went to stay at Leafy Way I didn’t leave anything in the kitchen, not even a can of soup.”
“I’ll have to go in a little while,” said Hilary. “By the way, Bill Brewer thinks you should take this day off.”
“Oh, dear!”
“What’s the matter?”
“There’s something I forgot to tell Bill last night. I’m going to keep my job with Jeremy after all.”
Hilary put out her cigarette slowly and carefully. “There may not be a job with Jeremy any more.”
“What do you mean?”
“The fire didn’t do him any good. The medical verdict is that he must take at least a month’s vacation right away. Job, as Lieutenant Governor, will take care of routine state business. Lucky the strike’s settled, isn’t it? Job could never have handled that on his own.”
“And the campaign?”
“Jeremy may not run. It’s not just his burns. It’s shock. He’s been through an ordeal. He can’t bounce back in twenty-four hours.”
“I understand that, but why should it affect his candidacy? The election isn’t until Fall.”
“His mood has changed. He may not care about being governor anymore. He may not come back here for years.”
“Where is he going?”
“He’s gone already. Carlos took him off to Sotavento in the Caribbean. Carlos’ mother has a place there. I saw them off at the airport this morning. Jeremy asked me to say good-bye to you for him. He wasn’t able to call you after all. He was sorry about that.”
“Is Vivian going?”
“No. I’ve been trying to think of the best way to tell you about that.”
“About what?”
“Vivian. She died in the hospital three hours ago. Don’t cry! Tash, please . . .”
It was early evening when the doorbell rang again.
Tash pressed the button that turned on the voice box connected with the vestibule downstairs.
“Who’s there?”
“Me, Miss Perkins. Boy from Grantley’s.”
Grantley was the best
