THE FLAPPER'S FAN

Chapter 11 - When You Give a Man an Order

The next day I slept a little later and Mrs Brewer had gone to do the shopping when I finally made it downstairs. She had left me a plate of fruit against her better judgement, not considering it proper breakfast food, but she humoured me. After a brief search, I discovered a tin containing a fresh fruit cake and hoped she would forgive me. It was an overcast day so I took my umbrella with me when I headed out on my walk, this time with a destination in mind and the fruit cake in its tin in my hand. I mounted the steps and rang the doorbell with complete confidence, ready with my story, all prepared for my investigation, preparation that fell completely away when Grace opened the door herself, still in her robe, her hair pinned, her eyes darkly smudged and drooping with exhaustion.

"Oh, hello Eddie," she said dully, turning away in a way that invited me to follow. I closed the door behind me and left my umbrella in the elephant foot stand then hurried after her, not that she was moving at any pace. I followed her right to the back of the house, and into the kitchen.

"Coffee?" she asked, yawning. A pot sat on the stove and she used a pot holder to take it off and pour the dark and strong smelling stuff into two mismatched cups. She drank hers without a change in expression but after one sip I put mine down. I had no intention of scouring my stomach with that tar. She didn't seem at all surprised to see me, nor interested in why I was there. After watching as she stood holding the cup halfway between the table and her mouth while she stared into space, I realised she was pretty much asleep standing with her eyes opened.

A noise from upstairs jolted her from her reverie. Who was there? I would think the housekeeper but it was unlikely she would be in the bedroom when the kitchen was such a mess, and if she was, Grace needed a new one. Suddenly a harried face appeared around the corner. A young dark haired woman wearing a blue uniform entered the room.

"Sarah's asking for you Ma'am." She said, giving me a narrowed, sideways glance. Sarah - the lover then? It would explain the maid's expression, perhaps she thought I was some sort of romantic rival for her mistress. Grace looked startled. "Thank you, Pearson, I'll be right there." She turned to me with an apologetic grimace.

"I won't be a moment, will you wait?"

I nodded as she disappeared up the stairs after the young woman.

I waited patiently for almost an hour before she finally returned. I was more than a little miffed, and it was a trait of mine, a troublesome trait that had gotten me into a pickle a time or two, to make statements without any tact or forethought. Today was no exception and I was annoyed from being kept waiting.

"So is Sarah too important to come and meet your guest?" I said tartly. Grace's mouth fell open in shock at my rudeness and I flushed deeply but pursed my lips and crossed my arms to support my words. She seemed to make a decision and disappeared up the stairs. I stared after her in frustration. What was she doing now? I heard raised voices, and although I couldn't make out the words I could tell one was Grace and one was the dark haired woman. As I waited, I became overcome with embarrassment at my rude behaviour. I looked around for my handbag, planning on a quick getaway, but I was interrupted by Grace's reappearance.

"Eddie, this is Sarah. My daughter."

In her arms she held an infant of about four months of age, pink of cheek and crowned by a halo of white blonde fuzz. The pink embroidery on her gown indicated she was a girl, but those long lashes, big blue eyes and rosebud lips were too feminine to be male. If I hadn't been ashamed enough of myself before, I was doubly so now.

"I don't know what to say," I said softly. "I'm an ass."

She chuckled at my downcast face.

"Please don't apologise. I should have trusted you. I needed to trust someone. I can't keep her a secret forever."