History Lessons (6 page)

She wished it now more than ever. While her son was in town playing with his friends, she was standing in a centuries old house, friendless, and trying to think how to deal with the increasingly complicated feelings she had for her boss.

Lucy wished again that she could just hate him. Or at least summon the backbone to march into his office and announce that she was filing a formal complaint against him for sexual harassment.

"Yes," she heard herself say. "
Sexual
harassment. Why else would a man spank a woman if it wasn't for some sick thrill?"

But she had not done that, and she knew she would not. So what did that make her? She wasn't a victim, or at least she did not feel like one. So was she complicit? Was she an enabler? Did some dark, twisted part of her want or need this?

Lucy's face flushed at the very thought, but before she could have another one she heard the door to Warren Ellis' office creak open.

"Miss Primm?"

She sighed and smoothed her dress as she raised her eyes towards the landing. She could not see him from where she was and kept her eyes on the floor as she walked up the stair that took him to the hallway and then to his door.

"Mr. Ellis."

He stepped aside as she walked in.

"Have a seat."

She obeyed, sitting in the chair across from his desk.

"I know what you're going to say," she said.

"Do you?" He walked around and took a seat at his desk. "That's rather presumptuous of you, Miss Prim."

"I'm not trying to be presumptuous," she said. "I just know you're disappointed in me, and that you're probably going to tell me I'm not cut out for the job."

The ghost of a smile played on his lips as he considered her comments.

"Please tell me you will never try to make a living as a fortune teller," he said. "Your psychic powers are abysmal. I was going to say no such thing."

"But you said I'd failed," Lucy responded.

"And you did," he replied. "But people are not perfect, although we should strive for the next best thing - excellence. That path, however, is rocky. We are bound to stumble along the way, and even fall."

"So you aren't angry?"

"Angry?" He looked genuinely surprised. "I've never been angry with you, Miss Primm. Why would I start now?"

"How can you say that?" she asked. "How can you say you've never been angry when you've struck me?"

He regarded her for a moment before speaking.

"I thought you said you had a child," he said.

"I do," she replied, puzzled. "A little son, Kegan."

"Does he ever disobey you?" Ellis asked.

Lucy laughed. "Of course," she said. "He'd hardly be a normal child if he did everything I asked all of the time."

"Indeed," the director responded. "Of course when he goes too far over the line I'm sure you punish him."

"Not by spanking."

He smiled. "Well, I'm sure you and I would disagree on what works best for children. But even though you don't believe in corporal punishment even though you are proof of its effectiveness, you likely don't allow the child to run roughshod over you. I'm certain you use some other method of correction."

"Y-yes," Lucy said, wondering where he was going with this. "I'll restrict an activity or deny some privilege he only gets when he's good."

"And you're angry when you deny him these things?"

"No!" Lucy responded indignantly. "Quite the opposite. If anything I feel quite sad to have to cause him distress."

He nodded. "I know just how you feel," he said. "I felt the same thing when I had to correct you."

Lucy looked at him, at first finding no words to respond. Was this some sort of joke. Was he really comparing the caning he'd given her to the actions she took with her own child?

She chose her next words carefully.

"Respectfully, Mr. Ellis, I have a bond with my son. An emotional bond. A loving bond. The regret I feel comes from the deep affection I have for him."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there is no way you can compare these dynamics."

He smiled at her then. "You don't think I care about you?"

The question struck her as odd, especially coming from someone like Mr. Ellis who seemed to regard relationships low on his priority list.

"No," she said. "Forgive me for being blunt, but sir you don't even know me."

"This is true, Lucy Primm," he responded. "I don't know you intimately. I don't know your favorite color or what you take in your coffee. I don't know what memories make you laugh and which ones make you cry. I only know what I see here, and that is a young woman who comes across as a bit paradoxical - strong yet vulnerable, centered yet seeking, content and yet a bit sad...."

His voice trailed off and Lucy realized then that speaking the words had made him nearly as uncomfortable as she was in hearing them. She'd not had a man speak to her like this before, and she could tell it was not in his nature to talk to women the way he was talking to her.

They sat for a moment in awkward silence, with Lucy focusing on the antique inkwell, the books stacked on his shelf, anything to keep from looking at him. And finally, when she could bear it no longer she spoke.

"Am I in trouble, sir?"

He sat forward in his chair as if considering his answer. "Not today, Lucy Primm. And I am as glad of that as you are. However, please consider this meeting a reminder of your responsibilities here. You are in a position of authority now, but you must remember it is only an extension of my authority. Act outside of that authority, my dear, and the consequences may be...severe."

He turned then and looked out the window and for a moment she thought he was going to stay something else. But instead he just stood and beckoned for her to do the same.

"I think there is nothing more to say," he said. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes." It was all she could think to say as she left.

In her car, Lucy replayed the conversation over and over in her head. What had he been trying to say to her? That he cared for her in some way? She remembered how her heart quickened when he'd offered his personal analysis of her.

"Weirdo," she said to no one in particular and then paused to wonder just who she considered weird - him or her.

She was glad to see the preschool finally come into view. Kegan always had a way of driving all other thoughts from her mind. He was waiting for her when he arrived, his hand holding out a little drawing he'd newly done. It showed the two of them on green grass as multi-colored dots rained from the sky.

"What are those things?" she asked.

"Gum drops," he replied.

She hugged him. "That's sweet," she said. "How about we go out for dinner and then some ice cream?"

* * *

Lucy awoke far more refreshed the next morning after having enjoyed a good night's sleep. Kegan was in his characteristic sunny mood at breakfast, which boded well for her. Lucy considered her son's moods to be omens.

She walked into Hartford House that morning brimming with new confidence. Attitude, she told herself, is everything. She could not help that Missy was jealous over her promotion and as much as it hurt decided that if that was the way her friend was going to treat her then maybe she'd misjudged the quality of their relationship. For her part, Lucy planned to do her job. If Missy came around, then so be it. If not that was her choice.

It didn't take long for Lucy to learn just what choice her friend had made. Morning line up went well, with Lucy reading off the assignments and checking garb for accuracy. Afterwards, when everyone dispersed off to their various tasks, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Missy standing behind her.

"Hi," Lucy said.

"Hi..." Missy looked down at the floor for a moment. When she looked up again, ther were tears in her eyes.

"Look," she said. "I just wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday. I was a total bitch to you, Lucy.."

"Missy, it's OK. You don't have to..."

"Yes, I do," her friend persisted. "I owe you this. We've been friends for a long time and I was way, way out of line saying those things to you. I guess I was just jealous but the more I think about it the more I realize it's only fair that you have the job. I mean, you've been here longer, you certainly work harder and you're not the one always planning ways to get out of here eventually. Plus you've got Kegan." She sighed. "If anyone deserves a break, it's you. Forgive?"

Lucy smiled and hugged her. "Of course," she said. "It's water under the bridge."

"Thanks," Missy said. "I felt terrible ever since I left."

"So," she continued. "How's it going?"

"OK so far," Lucy replied. "It takes some getting used to."

"What about working with the Time Lord?" Missy asked.

Lucy giggled. "Oh, it's all right I guess. I have to answer to him but as long as I enforce his rules everything should go just fine. It's just going to take some getting used to - telling people what to do. I'm so used to just following orders."

Missy nodded. "I was thinking about that yesterday. That must be a big adjustment. The more I think about it the more I think I wouldn't really want the job after all. In a perfect world I'd just get lateral moves with bigger and bigger pay raises."

She turned and gave Lucy's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Well, I'd better get to the wash pots. See you at lunch?"

"Sure!" Lucy replied and stood smiling as her friend walked away. She felt like a fifty pound burden had been lifted from her soul and realized that her friendship with Missy meant more to her than she'd wanted to admit.

Feeling even more optimistic, Lucy looked down at her list. Her first task after lineup was to inspect the stations and make sure everyone was carrying out their jobs properly and using period-appropriate methods in doing so.

Her first stop was in kitchen, where Harriet Meyers was busy making bread. She smiled a good morning greeting and congratulated Lucy as she walked in. The two chatted for a moment before Lucy walked outside where Missy and Emma were boiling laundry. The day was cool and Lucy was glad. Standing over a hot wash pot was no fun when it was warm outside.

She walked on. In one of the smaller houses that housed the looms she found two other workers spinning and weaving with wool while another pounded flax with a wooden mallet. Lucy made small talk with the women and complimented their efforts before checking their station off her list and moving on.

Lucy heard the singing even before she rounded the corner of the cobblestone path leading up to where the soapmakers were stationed. Lisa Hartner barely had time to pull the earbuds from her ear and stuff them in her pocket before Lucy was upon her.

"Lucy!" Lisa said with a smile. "Lovely day, right? Oh, and congratulations on your promotion."

"Thanks," Lucy said and then sighed. "Lisa, I need to ask you a question."

"Sure," Lisa said, beginning to stir a pot of thick lye mixture with a stick.

"Were you listening to your iPod?"

"iPod?" Lisa asked. "Of course not. You know those are forbidden."

Lucy did not want to do what she knew she had to. She also knew she had no choice. "Would you please turn out your pockets?"

"I can't," Lisa said with an apologetic smile. "I have to keep stirring."

"Lisa," Lucy said. "I'm sure a second break won't hurt."

Lisa regarded her and then with a sigh pulled out the tiny Shuffle. "OK. I'm busted. But so what. Honestly, Lucy, it takes a few hours of stirring to set this stuff up. Music is the only way I can stay awake. We don't even open for visitors for an hour!"

"I know," Lucy agreed. "It can be boring. But the employees manual is very clear, Lisa. No modern technology allowed..."

"...on the premises at anytime, yada, yada, yada. Yeah, I know," Lisa finished. "But look. You're not one of those old fuddy-duddies, Lucy. Your one of us, remember? You know what it's like to do this stuff day after day. Come on. Cut me some slack."

Lucy sighed with exasperation. "I wish I could, Lisa. But I can't. The best I can do is hold the iPod for you until the end of the day." She extended her hand.

"No," Lisa said. "It's a stupid rule, Lucy. And you know it. Admit it."

Lucy realized the conversation was a test she could not fail.

"It's really not a stupid rule, Lisa. This is a working historical site. There are expectations of the staff. We're told that when we're hired. Look, just give me the iPod and I'll put it in your locker if you'd like. Then you can get it at the end of the day." She paused. "Otherwise I'm going to have to write you up."

"Write me up? Why? There's nobody here except us. I could keep it in my pocket. The only reason to write me up is just to be a hard-ass to impress your boss."

Lucy felt her face redden. "That's not fair, Lisa."

"Sure it is," Lisa said dismissively. "I'm being careful. The only reason I didn't take the ear buds out right away was because I saw you coming. And I did see you. I just thought we were cool. We are cool, aren't we?"

"If by cool you mean I'm going to turn my head while the rules are broken then no," Lucy said.

"Well I'm not giving you my iPod," Lisa said obstinately. "If you can't trust me to keep it in my pocket that's your problem."

Lucy was trying to think of a retort when she heard Warren Ellis' voice behind her.

"Problem?" he asked.

"No," Lucy said.

"No?" He looked from one woman to the other. "Voices carry, ladies, and I do believe I overheard a dispute regarding the rules." He looked at Lisa. "And something about your having an iPod on premises?"

Lisa visibly reddened. "Yessir," she said, and reached into her pocket to pull out the audio player. Lucy felt her ire rise. How easily this man garnered respect. It seemed so unfair when everyone else gave her such a hard time.

"Would you please hand it over to Miss Primm as she so kindly requested?" he asked. "And show her a bit more respect while she writes you up for a rules violation and insubordination, Miss Hartner. As my assistant, Miss Primm is an extension of my authority, and I do not appreciate how she was treated by you just now. She's being neither petty nor arbitrary in her enforcement of the rules. She's simply doing what we are all expected to do here - our jobs."