Agency

In Which an Englishwoman and a Frenchwoman Have Spoken on the Phone

that evening

Berenice shivered as she put the receiver down. The woman on the other end of the line had been formal and polite, but one would have to be completely obtuse not to have understood the subtext.

She stared at the wall beside the phone as if the answer to her question might have been written there.

Was she going to lose him?

She felt empty. Disconsolate. Did she want to lose him? No. Was it too late?

She reviewed the strange conversation, poking at it from different angles in the hopes of picking it open.

The woman, who'd had a very uptight accent, had introduced herself as Berry's boss which was, in itself, confusing. She was certain that her husband's new boss was a guy named Al. She'd seen his name pop up on Berry's phone frequently since his promotion.

The first tumbler clicked. 'Al' was Allegra, the transplanted new head of the Agency. Berry had mentioned her when she first arrived.

Why would Berry lie about who his boss was? Had he actually said his boss was a man or had her unconscious bias led her to assume that?

Next, the woman had thanked her for taking good care of her beloved pet, Henry. Now, of course, Berenice remembered that Waffles' original name had been Henry, so she immediately understood who the woman meant. But this was also confounding.

Hadn't Berry told them that Waffles (aka Henry) was Otto's dog? On this point, she was absolutely certain. He'd said Otto had to give him away or send him to a shelter after a change in his condo's tenants' agreement.

The second tumbler clicked. Berry had lied about whose dog it was. But why?

The woman on the phone had gone on to explain that she was now in a position to take the dog back. Originally, she'd explained, she thought her condo laws forbade companion animals, but upon recent advice from a lawyer, she'd found a way around the rule and wanted, immediately, to recoup ownership of her pet.

At this, Berenice had physically balked. Surprisingly, she'd grown more attached to the beast than she'd have expected. He'd only been living with them for two weeks, but she found him... reassuringly solid. Waffles was just Waffles. He didn't keep secrets. He didn't sneak. He didn't even come home late -- Berry had to bring him home at a regular time so Waffles could have his dinner. All that, plus the girls loved him, and Waffles seemed to love them back. His presence kept the raccoons at bay, and he made for good company whenever she went out for her cool-down cigarettes in the yard.

No, she didn't like the idea of giving him back at all. He had already become part of their family. She told the woman so.

The woman countered her resistance in that English way of rebuffing resistance with a tsunami of polite but meaningless words. Of course, completely understand your position, even so, notwithstanding, regrettably, you understand. They weave a maze of language around you until you don't know which way is out, and it all amounts to the fact that they're going to go ahead and do what they want.

Well, we'll see about that, Berenice fumed.

If this not-a-man-named-Al-but-a-woman-named-"Allegra" wanted to take not-Otto's-but-actually-as-it-turns-out-"her" dog back and was ready to approach it as heartlessly as a corporate acquisition, simply firing Waffle's new family and reclaiming ownership... well. She obviously didn't understand that a Frenchwoman was not someone to be trifled with.

The answer to Berenice's first question (was she going to lose him?) was suddenly, perfectly clear.

Absolutely fucking not, tabernac.