Worth

Chapter 4

"Could Jimmy be a nickname for John?" Olivia wondered.

"Jack is another name for John. Jimmy's a nickname for James."

"Too bad. They were both kind of..." Up and down went her eyebrows in a Flirty-Gertie fashion.

Violet didn't bite. "John's hair is too long."

"Just enough to slick back. But you're right. His teeth aren't horsey enough and his chin is too cute. And James? What's with that? Way too strapping and symmetrical. Gag! Pew!"

"For the good it does. One is an absolute saint to his lonely old uncle and a pig to everyone else, and the other is a charmer and an oddball and as greedy as the rest of them. I've had enough of it."

"Well, that's it, I guess," Olivia sighed in agreement. "Time to put you out to pasture. Time to lure you out to fields and shoot you."

"Never mind. You're going to have to apologize for me until I'm old and batty. You're going to have to set me up in your attic until I wander out during a rainstorm and get hit by lightning."

"You can't do that. Who will feed me my peas when I'm decrepit and housebound?"

"Lee."

"He'll never last that long against the two of us."

"Then as soon as I start looking cross-eyed better hire us all a nurse."

The weekend of The Weekend arrived swiftly. Violet was not looking forward to travelling with throngs of people evacuating the city for the last long weekend of the summer. She was, however, a little excited about taking a train, which she never had.

Violet packed her travel bag over and over. How many clothes changes were necessary for a three nights' stay when costumes were going to be provided on site? She had spent the last seven nights hoping to the point of sleep deprivation that she wouldn't find herself attending a Pilgrim Party or Sherlock Holmes mystery in clogs or bustles or both.

"Leo, you rotten tease," she said, rearranging a pair of jeans, a cardigan, a tank top, and pyjama bottoms. "Please don't put me in headgear."

She studied the directions sent to her by Philroy's receptionist, Eunice, and put them into her purse. Violet had had questions about post-train transportation. Eunice said she would be reimbursed the fare of a cab once she arrived at the cottage. Cottage! Violet had been sent a map of the inside the house as well so she was hardly expecting a little log cabin.

Violet boarded her train at three in the afternoon. It was only a third full, if that. A steward explained that cottagers determined to get the jump on the Friday rush had only managed to collectively move it up about a day and a half. Violet certainly didn't mind the leg room, or the choice of nearly any seat. She stared out her window, happily waiting for the world to pick up speed. The nearing of autumn had already set reddening leaves on fire, radiant in their reflection as the sun itself. She tried not to look too awe-inspired so as not to concern other passengers. A quick visit to the lavatory soon gave Violet a taste for mobility. She seemed to have free rein of the train and the dining car was straight ahead. She decided to have a nice cup of coffee and fret about the weekend there.

In the car, a child sat alone. An attendant stopped by to deliver some jam and cream cookies and a glass of milk. Someone sat reading a paper a little further up. Violet thought he must be on a business trip because who else would rather stare at headline when he could stare out the window?

James, that's who. Only now she remembered that his last name wasn't Finch. Rolph and Vera were the Greers, and so naturally were their children. He saw her between page turns. She blanched and tried not to dig her fingernails into the table. She breathed deeply to calm down. This was Leo's favourite. She could not despise him. He probably could stand his family less than she could and with more reason. James didn't know her from a hole in the ground. At some point she would tell him how sincerely fond of his uncle she was and how the old man loved his nephew.