A little later, as we talked of Grimes, Bunny said, “Eleanor, it is most regrettable to find myself speculating about such things, but-is there any chance that Everett was Billy’s father?”
She glanced at me. “Since you’re here, Dr. Tyndale, I know you are discreet. Yes, Bunny, of course there is. There never was any drunken carter named Westley. I invented him, and bought her a ring to wear. I hired her so the child would have a home and a roof. Everett had long lost interest in her. I could not prove to you that he was Everett’s, but I don’t think she’s the type who would have spread her favors around, if I can say that without shocking Dr. Tyndale.”
“Max,” I said.
“He is remarkably hard to shock,” Bunny said.
She smiled. “One needs that sort of constitution to be friends with you, Bunny.”
“How did you learn of her?” I asked.
“Mrs. Westley? Oh, Mrs. Huddleson, who is a real widow, knew about her situation. It took quite a bit for me to get the story out of Huddie, but she told me, and agreed to help spread the tale of the carter.”
“Did Everett Grimes never recognize a likeness in the boy?” I asked.
“No. As I believe the world knows now, Everett could be quite self-absorbed. But, Max, please say nothing of this to others. Poor Mrs. Westley has had enough to bear.”
“The boy was reading your old copy of The Count of Monte Cristo,” Bunny said. “I have wondered if he knew. If he imagined himself to be Edmond Dantès.”
“Waiting to avenge himself on those who do not recognize him as the one they have wronged?”
He nodded. “If so, it went terribly awry.”
“Forgive me,” I said. “But perhaps he was just a young man in love, trying to impress a beautiful girl.”
“I agree,” Eleanor said, looking at Bunny. “It worked out sadly this time, but I have known young men to behave foolishly on behalf of the women they love, and have it work out quite differently.”
From below we heard a man with a drawl shout, “Digby, you old son of a bitch! How you keepin’? Tell that boss of yours to get a telephone!”
“Up here, Senne!” Eleanor called, her face lighting up in pleasure. I could no longer count Susannah Grimes as the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
“Yes, quite differently,” Bunny said, but I suspect that due to Senechett’s arrival, I was the only one who heard him.
Miscalculation
“All set?” Ada asked. “Of course you are. There isn’t a Girl Scout in the world who took ‘be prepared’ as seriously as you did, Sarah.”
“From the size of that trunk I saw poor Mr. Parsons carrying out of here, I’d say you’re the one who’s over-prepared,” Sarah Milington replied. “Really, Grandmother, we’re only staying on the Queen Mary overnight.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” her adoptive grandmother said, embracing her as she reached her. “And it’s likely I still haven’t brought half of what I really need. You’re the one who’s best at details. If you would come to live with me again-”
“Grandmother…” Sarah warned.
“Never mind, I won’t pester you about that now. I think a trunk makes it seem so much more like a real cruise-Oh, here’s Robert,” she said, seeming so pleased that Sarah had to tamp down an annoying little flair of jealousy. More irritating, she was fairly sure Robert Parsons had noted her discomposure.
Although he was always polite to her, Sarah had yet to feel completely at ease around Parsons. Some of this unease was undoubtedly due to her grandmother’s delight in surrounding both Parsons’s background and his position in her household with an air of intrigue, but Sarah knew this was only part of why she felt self-conscious when Parsons was near.
For all his own quietness, his presence in this house caused a great deal of talk. He was the inspiration for plenty of local gossip-gossip that undoubtedly pleased Ada Milington. Robert Parsons-good-looking, broad-shouldered, and not more than thirty years old, had been part of Ada’s household for nearly a year now.
At first, Sarah had believed that the rest of the staff, all much older than Parsons and notoriously protective of her grandmother, would rebel at his presence. In this she was mistaken. Parsons, she now reflected-recalling that he had just carried the largest trunk she had ever seen out to the van-was undoubtedly a godsend to the aging servants. He seemed more than willing to do heavy lifting and to take on any task, no matter how arduous. And, she was forced to admit, he gave every sign of being sincerely devoted to her grandmother.
Sarah knew she had no real personal complaint to make of him. Long accustomed to her grandmother’s love of outrageous behavior, she decided that it was not her place to interfere. Ada had survived four husbands, and if she now wanted to have a fling with a man almost fifty years her junior, Sarah would not be the one to object.
Ada turned to the rest of the staff, which had gathered in the entry. “We’re off on our cruise!” she announced grandly, waving a kiss at them. Amid tossed confetti and their boisterous cheers of “Bon voyage” and “Many happy returns!” she took Parsons’s arm and allowed him to lead the way to the van.
He hadn’t loaded the luggage very efficiently, Sarah thought with a frown, seeing that he had strapped the huge trunk to the long rack on the van’s roof. By simply removing a seat, he could have fit it inside. The wind resistance would have been lower, and she would have obtained better gas mileage. She was considering this problem when Parsons, after gently helping Ada into the front passenger seat, surprised Sarah by opening the sliding door to the side of the van and seating himself in the back.
No wonder he had left the seat in place! She felt herself blush at the thought of her grandmother marching up the Queen Mary’s gangplank with this virile-looking male in tow. And if Robert Parsons was sharing a room with Ada-but then, she quickly reminded herself, that was none of her business.
Ada’s smile told her that her grandmother was waiting for a challenge, but Sarah merely started the van and began the drive to Long Beach.
She couldn’t help but feel herself an injured party, though. She had wanted to talk privately to her grandmother, perhaps even to confide in her about the dream she had had last night-a recurring, claustrophobic dream from her childhood, of being locked in a closet. That was certainly not possible now. She could picture Robert Parsons’s amusement over that.
“A little ridiculous to have Bella and the others throwing confetti,” she said aloud. “It isn’t really a cruise, after all.”
“I’m pretending it is,” Ada answered. “It’s the closest I can come to a cruise. You know I get seasick.”
“I know nothing of the sort. You’ve been on real cruises.”
“And got sick on the last one. Never again. I do love the ocean, I just don’t want to be feeling it pitch and roll as I blow out my candles. So this will be my cruise-perhaps my last one.”
“It’s not a cruise,” Sarah repeated obstinately.
“Technically, no.”
She might have left it at that, but when she glanced at the rearview mirror, she saw that Parsons was smiling. Smugly, she thought.
“Technically, it isn’t even a ship,” she added.
“No?” Ada said, turning to wink back at him.
Sarah felt her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “No. It’s officially classified as a building now, not a ship. It’s permanently moored at that pier. It doesn’t move. It doesn’t go anywhere.”
“You don’t say,” Ada replied.
“It’s afloat,” Robert said. “It moves with the tide.”
Sarah fell silent.
After a moment, Ada said wistfully, “I saw her sail once, long ago. Back in the days when she did sail, when she was definitely a ship.”