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‘That’s all?’ she queried again. ‘Just “No”?’

‘Well, maybe you could put that in capital letters,’ he offered, ‘but I don’t want to get too wordy.’

‘Should I make copies?’

‘Of the ones that get a “Yes”, I suppose. There’s a machine around here somewhere. With the “No’s” forget it. Chuck them in the wastebasket. Any questions?’

She looked up at him with a dazed expression. ‘Do I dare?’ she squeaked.

‘That’s better. You’ll make me a fine secretary, even if you are a crazy mixed-up kid.’ He patted her shoulder and walked out the door. His hands were in his pockets, and he was whistling an old tune, something about ‘The Girls He Left Behind Him!’

At four o’clock, still not finished, her foot told her she had had enough. She re-shuffled the papers on the table, covered the machines, and drove herself up the ramp and out on to the patio, looking for a quiet place to hide. She found it in a clump of rhododendron bushes just beyond the swimming pool. She manoeuvred herself into its shadow, clumsily elevated the foot rest attached to the chair, and leaned back, watching the flights of sparrows criss-crossing in the sky. A noise from the pool area attracted her attention. Eloise was walking slowly around the perimeter of the enclosure. When she saw Katie, she turned in that direction.

‘Well, here’s where you are,’ the woman stated cheerfully as she came up to the wheel-chair. ‘You’ve been buried in that office all day. That’s a terrible imposition on an invalid. Can I get you something to drink?’

Katie was so startled that she was speechless for a moment. Eloise was obviously in the best of humours. Had she and Harry—? Too weary to reason, she nodded her head. ‘It’s a little chilly. A mug of coffee would be nice. Cream, no sugar.’

‘Right away,’ the smaller woman responded, and started for the kitchen. Katie watched her with a tinge of envy. Eloise walked with a wild hip-roll that was better than the death-dance of the Black Widow spider, and at every step she jiggled! And that’s what the red-blooded American boys like, Katie sighed. And now, if Eloise turns into ‘Miss Nice’, what the devil am I going to do? You can’t hate somebody who’s got it all, just because she’s got it, can you? You’re darn well right you can, she told herself fiercely. Of course you can. What has she got that I haven’t? Well mainly, she’s got Harry. And I want him. It sounded so good that she said it out loud, ‘I want him.’ A little voice in the back of her mind said, ‘Why?’

‘I’m darned if I know,’ she yelled up at the sparrows. They acknowledged her statement with a brief dip in her direction. Think of something, she commanded herself. You cannot let Eloise become the good guy. Think of something!

The little blonde was on her jiggly way back from the kitchen with two steaming mugs in her hands. As she watched, Katie repeated her new mantra. ‘I hate Eloise,’ she whispered over and over again. ‘I hate Eloise!’

‘That wasn’t too long, was it?’ Eloise asked. She passed one of the mugs over, and settled herself in the grass at the front of the chair.

‘No, that’s just fine,’ Katie acknowledged, sipping at the mug. There was sugar in the coffee, but she mustered a smile, and sipped again.

‘It’s good to be able to come back here and relax,’ Eloise continued. ‘You’ve got no idea how tough it is down in Atlanta. Hot! Those TV lights are enough to bum you up. It’s just too much.’

‘It sounds like a very hard line of work,’ Katie offered tentatively.

‘You have no idea. You work and slave and posture for hours, all for a five-minute picture. In fact, a two- minute shot this last week. A TV commercial, you know. But the pay’s good.’

‘I couldn’t imagine turning on the television and seeing myself,’ Katie contributed. ‘How do you get used to it?’

‘Well really, after the first few months, it becomes no problem. It must seem glamorous to you, after working in some grubby office.’

‘It’s glamorous all right,’ Katie chuckled, ‘but I don’t know about working in some grubby office. Most of my regular work is done outdoors.’

‘Outdoors? But I’m sure Harry said you were some sort of office worker! Now why would he—’

‘Perhaps he was teasing?’

‘No, never that,’ Eloise said. Her eyes were half-closed, reflective. ‘That man never says a word that he hasn’t thought out very carefully. Our Harry just never talks impulsively. Never. Except of course, when we went up to Atlanta.’

Brace yourself, Katie told herself. Here’s where we come to the meat of all this goody-goody business. ‘Did you enjoy your weekend?’ she asked.

‘Oh, it was the most,’ Eloise gushed. ‘We stayed at the Sheraton, of course. Saturday afternoon we went shopping. Dresses, unmentionables, the works. Harry is very meticulous. He insisted on staying with me all day, helping to choose, paying the bills. As you’ll find out some day, Katie, a woman needs a whole new wardrobe when she’s about to take a big step like this. And then we dined and danced into the wee hours. Harry, and an old friend of his. A rich old friend, I might say. All wonderful. You know, Harry has friends in all sorts of places. Maybe he could find somebody for you, dear. Would you like me to ask him?’

‘N-no,’ Katie managed to stutter. ‘I wouldn’t be interested in any of Harry’s friends. ‘So—you’re finally going to take the big plunge? How soon?’

‘Of course it’s still a secret, you understand. But very soon. Within the next three weeks, my dear. I’m so excited!’

‘Yes, of course you are.’ Katie could feel an ache in that empty spot in the pit of her stomach. ‘That’s why Harry was so happy this afternoon?’

‘Oh? Did you see him this afternoon?’ The blue eyes glared at her suspiciously.

‘In the office, for only a few minutes,’ Katie explained. ‘He looked at some of the mail, and dictated answers to several enquiries.’ And tried to kiss me again. And ruined me for the rest of my life! How in the world can I settle down, look at some other man, after Harry?

‘And I almost forgot to show you!’ Eloise exclaimed, holding out her left hand. And there it is, Katie snarled at herself. The true brand of possession. A magnificent square-cut diamond blinked back at her from Eloise’s third finger.

‘It—it’s very beautiful,’ Katie stammered. ‘Very— beautiful. But—I—would you excuse me, Eloise? My foot is aching. I’ve got to go get some more pills.’ Without waiting for an acknowledgement she shifted the wheel-chair into ‘drive’ and started back towards the house.

‘Of course,’ the blonde called after her. She was making no effort now to hide the derision in her voice. ‘Take something for it quickly. If you’re sure it’s your foot that’s aching!’

She
drove her chair across the patio at full speed, meaning to scuttle into the refuge of her room. The baby intercepted her. Jon was sitting on the floor of the kitchen, surrounded by acres of little toys, but all alone. As her chair clattered against the screen door his face lit up. ‘Choo, choo,’ he yelled, levering himself up to his feet. Katie braked the chair to a stop and held out her arms. The boy rambled across the floor with a huge grin on his face, and climbed up on the foot rest of the chair. She swept him up in her arms, forgetting her clash with Eloise in the sunshine of the child’s smile. ‘Choo choo,’ the boy repeated urgently.

‘Okay, choo, choo,’ she returned solemnly. He squirmed around in her lap so he could see straight ahead, then waited, but not too patiently. When she still did not start the chair rolling he turned his little blond head and said demandingly, ‘Choo, choo!’

‘All right, already.’ She laughed at him, and started the chair off at slow speed across the kitchen. They butted into the swing doors, and out into the hall. The boy began to bounce on her lap. She increased speed, and they zoomed up and down the length of the hall at full throttle, the child screaming in delight. On their fourth turn they barely missed running over Harry’s foot as he came up the inside entrance to the basement.

‘Hey,’ he yelled.

‘Choo, choo!’ his nephew responded.

‘Choo, choo, my foot!’ he yelled, holding out his hand. ‘You tell the engineer of that train to watch where she’s driving.’

Katie brought the chair to a gradual halt, much to Jon’s disgust.

‘Now that’s better,’ Harry chuckled, as he came abreast of them. One of his hands dropped on to her shoulder. She flinched away from it. He looked down at her with a puzzled expression on his face, and stretched out his hand again. She backed the chair slightly, causing him to miss his target. He pulled back his hand and held it up before his eyes.

‘No frostbite,’ he observed, ‘but it’s distinctly cold around here. What’s the problem, Katie?’

‘I don’t have a problem, Mr King,’ she said.

‘Brrrrr,’ he retorted. ‘Either the temperature is dropping fast, or you’re really an Eskimo.’

‘Are you finished criticising, Mr King?’ she asked coldly. ‘Jon and I were playing, and we would like to continue.’

‘And I would like to talk seriously to you. Put the kid down.’

‘You and I have nothing to talk about, Mr King.’ She hugged the baby closer to her. Jon squirmed. ‘Choo, choo,’ he pleaded.

‘You and I have a million things to talk about,’ he repeated. ‘Put the child down and come to the kitchen with me.’

‘I have no intention of leaving Jon all by himself. Somebody else has already done that today. Please go away,’

‘Damn it,’ he roared. ‘Eloise was supposed to be watching the baby. Where is she?’

‘I’m sure I don’t know, Mr King. Isn’t it up to you to keep track of her?’

‘Why the devil should I—oh, no you don’t, girl. You don’t get me off the subject that easily. Now, what’s biting you?’

‘Nothing’s biting me, Mr King. And nothing is going to bite me. As soon as this child is settled with its mother I intend to call home and have someone come and get me!’

‘Oh brother,’ he moaned, running one hand through his thick hair. ‘Look, Katie, if it’s because I left you alone this afternoon, it was only because I had to go into town for a few clothes.’

‘Of course, Mr King. I understand. Too bad you couldn’t get them all in Atlanta when you were on your shopping expedition!’

His eyes narrowed. He shoved both hands deep into his pockets and cocked his head slightly to the right. ‘Shopping expedition? he queried. ‘Who told you about that?’

‘Who do you think told me?’ she said sweetly. ‘Who do you think rushed right over to be sure I heard it all?’

‘Eloise, damn it! Well, sure, I took her on a shopping expedition. You wouldn’t expect me to let her go into something like this without a decent wardrobe of clothes, would you?’

‘I—I don’t expect anything of you, Mr King. It’s called a trousseau. She was so pleased when she showed me her engagement ring!’

‘Ah!’ His eyes lit up, and that infectious smile reappeared. ‘So she really came out in the open, did she! Wonderful! It’s about time. Eloise is a great believer in never letting the right hand know what the left hand is doing. Did you congratulate her?’

She stared up at him, her mind a cauldron of confusion. Two of a kind. Each accusing the other of being close-mouthed. And evidently they were both right—about each other of course. They—they’ll make a lovely pair. As dishonest a pair as ever you could want! ‘Yes, I congratulated her. My mother trained us all to do the right thing, even when it hurts.’ But her mother had never trained her to keep the bitterness out of her voice, or the anger from her eyes.

He put one of his massive feet up on the foot rest of the chair. If only I dared, Katie thought, I’d run him over. How would that look in the local paper? ‘Famous Inventor Wheeled to Death?’ The idea was so intriguing that she missed what he was saying.

‘I—what was that?’ she asked.

‘I said you have to understand about Eloise,’ he repeated. ‘She’s a kid who came up from nothing. Her father was a share-cropper in Georgia. Eloise has come up a long way. She lives in a cut-throat world. A little miscellaneous lying, cheating and stealing are considered normal. But now she finally has a chance at the brass ring. If only she would stop trying to grab every prize in town, she could be very happy.’

‘Why not,’ Katie said soberly. ‘As you say, she’s got the brass ring. I’m—I’m happy for both of you.’ I’m also becoming the biggest liar in history, she told herself. It was a struggle to keep the tears from flowing. She cuddled the baby closer to her, hiding her face in the cool silk of his hair.

‘Choo, choo?’ Jon pleaded.

‘Yes, choo, choo,’ she choked. She pushed the chair control forward and they started to roll down the hall towards the front door.

‘Hey, what the hell?’ he called after her. One of his heavy hands struggled against the movement of the chair. ‘Why would you congratulate me?’

‘Because you’re very lucky to get such a beautiful woman as your wife,’ she half-shouted at him. She pushed the toggle control to full speed. The chair bucked against him, and then broke free.

‘Hey, wait,’ he called, taking two steps down the hall behind them. ‘You’ve got this thing all—’

Whatever he had intended to say got lost in the confusion. The big front door swung open. A beautiful red-headed woman stood in the door, a woman whose face seemed a replica of Harry’s, although softened with a radiant beauty. She was about Katie’s height. There was a suitcase in either hand, which she dropped on the floor immediately.

‘Mama!’ Jon yelled. He struggled and squirmed against Katie’s circling arm. She stopped the chair, and the little boy wiggled down, ran across the intervening space, and threw both hands around the neck of the kneeling woman.

The two of them jabbered at each other, seemingly in full communication, although none of the words sounded like English. Then the woman stood up, still holding the baby close, and walked over to the wheelchair. ‘You must be Katie?’ she asked, extending her one free hand. ‘I talked to Harry on the telephone last night, and he mentioned your name—about five hundred times, I believe. I want to thank you for looking after my little hellion. I’m Amanda, Harry’s sister.’

‘Yes, I’m Katie,’ she stammered. The hand that held hers was firm, long-fingered—like Harry’s of course. The eyes were blue, the complexion light, with a sprinkle of freckles just across the nose. And such a very determined nose! ‘It was no trouble,’ she continued. ‘Jon has been the one long-suffering prize in all this mess. He’s a wonderful child, Amanda.’