At the Water's Edge (27 page)

M
eg knew exactly what had happened the second she laid eyes on me. She said nothing, just smiled in a knowing manner. It didn't help that I blushed and looked at the ground, or that I was wearing a turban because I hadn't set my hair.

I finished the upstairs chores at about the same time Anna finished the downstairs, and the three of us wound up around the kitchen table having a
strupag
.

Anna had spent the last few afternoons clearing rocks from the tatty beds at the croft, and was suffering from a stiff back.

“It's the buckets of stones,” she explained. “They weigh more than buckets of milk, and you're always picking them up and putting them down, and then leaning over to collect even more…It's murder on the back, I tell you. I'll look like Rhona when all is said and done.”

“Of course you won't,” I said, although not as convincingly as I wished. Crofting sounded like a very hard life indeed.

“Stand up and lean over the table,” Meg said. “I'll work those knots out for you.”

Meg stood behind her and massaged Anna's back, digging her thumbs into the areas just above Anna's hips.

“I'll come help with the stones,” said Meg. “Many hands make light work.”

“I should think not,” Anna said with righteous indignation. “Dr. McLean has not cleared you for any type of work yet, especially not clearing rocks.”

“Well, I can't just do nothing, can I?” said Meg. “I'm sick to death of Maddie's crossword puzzles and their fiendish American spelling—why would anyone put an
e
in whisky, for goodness' sake? Anyway, Dr. McLean is going to clear me for work any day now, which probably means I'm already perfectly capable.”

“Maybe I can help clear stones,” I said.

Anna and Meg looked at me, deadpan. A couple of seconds later, they burst out laughing.

“And get your hands dirty?” Meg practically crowed.

“I get my hands dirty all the time!”

“I didn't see you offering to help clean the range this morning,” said Anna.

“You didn't ask,” I said. “And for your information, I was upstairs scrubbing the toilet. I didn't see you offer with that, either.”

“Oh go on,” said Anna. “We're just having a little fun.”

“I know that!” I said, laughing. “Don't be silly!”

Anna narrowed her eyes and looked me up and down. “You're in a very good mood this morning…”

The front door opened, and after a few seconds it closed. Anna glanced at the clock.

“That'll be Willie with the mail,” she said in a panic. “And here I am all covered with soot and oven blacking!”

“Grab a cloth and clean yourself up,” said Meg. “I'll stall him.”

Willie was expected to pop the question at any moment, having already asked permission from Anna's father.

It was a mystery to me what the attraction was—it was easy to see why Willie was attracted to Anna, but what did Anna see in Willie? He had always struck me as an angry, orange gnome who was quick to judge and was also a good twenty years older than she was, but apparently she was madly in love with him. I supposed there was no
accounting for Cupid's aim. I felt sorry for poor one-legged George, though.

Anna ran to the sink and began scrubbing her face. I followed to make sure she didn't miss a spot.

Meg returned, pale as beeswax.

“It's not Willie,” she said.

“Then who…?” I asked.

Meg looked despondently at me, and I knew.

“Dear God in Heaven,” I said.

Meg stepped forward and squeezed my hands. “He's not asked for you yet—when he does, I'll tell him you've gone walking.”

“No,” I said quietly. “I'll go out. There's no point in delaying the inevitable.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Meg asked.

“I have no idea.”

“At the very least, wait until Angus comes back.”

I shook my head.

Meg watched me for a beat, then nodded. “All right, but I'll be standing right here with the heaviest saucepan we have, should you find yourself in need of assistance.”

I pulled my apron over my head and hung it on a peg. Then I walked through to the front room, my legs seeming to move of their own accord.

Ellis and Hank were settled by the fire in their usual places, as though they'd never been gone at all. Ellis sat on the couch with his back to me, and Hank sat in one of the wing chairs. He stood at once.

“Maddie, darling girl!” he said, raising his arms in welcome. When I didn't respond, he dropped them and frowned. “What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I feel rather as though I have. What are you doing here?”

Ellis shifted around to face me, draping his arm across the back of the couch. “That's an odd question. We're staying here, of course.”

“Well, no, in fact, you haven't been.”

“You knew we were going away,” said Ellis.

“You said you'd be gone a few days,” I said. “It's been two weeks.”

“Thirteen days,” said Hank. “But who's counting?”

“I was,” I said. “I didn't think you were coming back.”

“Oh dear—you didn't think I'd abandoned you again, did you?” said Ellis. He raised an eyebrow and turned to Hank, adding, “I told you she has quite an imagination.”

My knees buckled. A moment later, Hank and Ellis were steering me toward the couch.

“What's the matter? Are you having an episode?” said Ellis.

“Get her a glass of water,” said Hank.

“I can't,” Ellis replied. “There's no one behind the bar.”

“Then get a glass and find a sink!”

“You mean in the kitchen? What if the hag's in there?”

“Then use the bathroom, for Christ's sake!”

Ellis glanced at Hank in a wounded manner, then went behind the bar for a glass. After pausing at the door to the kitchen, he changed his mind and went upstairs.

Hank perched on the low table in front of me. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.

“Darling girl—what's going on? Talk to me.”

“There's nothing going on,” I said, although my voice betrayed me.

“It's not nothing, obviously. And if you don't tell me what's going on, he's going to think you're having an episode.”

I couldn't help laughing. “He always thinks I'm having an episode. I don't care anymore.”

“You don't mean that,” said Hank.

“Oh, but I do.”

“Fuck,” Hank said. He glanced quickly at the stairwell. “Look, I think you should know that Ellis has been making inquiries. Actually, more than inquiries. Arrangements.”

“So, he's really going to try to have me locked up, is he?”

“No, he's going to have you treated.”

I was shocked into momentary silence.

“Treated?” I asked in a hollow voice, although of course I already knew.

“Given the severity of your symptoms, the physician he spoke to thought a permanent cure was the best solution. You wouldn't even have to stay in the hospital.”

You'll be so much happier
, my mother had said.
An easy thing. In and out in an hour
.

“And what did Ellis say to the doctor to make him think that?”

“Well, for starters, that you flushed your medication—”

“I flushed the pills because Ellis was eating them hand over fist. I've had one pill in my life.
One. Pill
. He's always been the one who took them. Hank, you
know
that.”

“You've lost all sense of social structure, you're showing signs of paranoia—”

“
Paranoia?
Really, Hank?”

“—and you've begun having delusions.”

I stared at him and began nodding. “So that's what this is really about.”

“What?”

“As if you don't know. I'm sending a telegram to the Colonel this very minute.”

“Saying what?” Hank asked.

“That Ellis isn't color-blind! That he lied to get out of service!”

Hank went slack-jawed. “Maddie, my God! Of course he's not faking it. That's a terrible thing to say!”

“Oh, please,” I said. “How stupid do you think I am? You obviously planned it together, finding conveniently invisible ailments to keep you out of the war.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Flat-footed? Please.”

Hank sputtered in outrage. “I
am
flat-footed. I've been wearing custom shoes my entire life!”

“You're each as bad as the other. I've had it.” I stood up.

“Maddie, stop—”

He said it with enough conviction that I did.

“Don't do it,” he said.

“Why? There will be no point in having me treated once everyone knows the truth.”

“Because it's
not
the truth, and this is exactly the type of rash behavior Ellis is worried about. You get something in your head, and then you act on it without any regard for consequence, no matter who it damages. If you send a telegram to the Colonel, Ellis will just have you treated sooner rather than later—it's all been arranged, he only has to make a phone call—and then for good measure, he'll probably have Blackbeard hauled off as well.”

“Angus? Why?”

“Because of exactly that. The unsuitable familiarity. Ellis is sure he's been taking advantage of you, so he stopped by the courthouse to check the penalty for poaching. It's two years in prison per offense, by the way.”

I sat back down, slowly.

“So if it's a phone call away and there's nothing I can do, why are you even telling me?” I asked.

Hank sighed. “I don't know. I guess because it
is
a phone call away. To warn you, I suppose, so you can try not to set him off. I was initially against the whole idea, but I have to be honest—Maddie, you're scaring me. Do you realize what you just accused me of? What you just accused Ellis of? It's like you consciously came up with the one thing that would hurt us the most. That's not like you. The Maddie I know wouldn't do that.”

Ellis came thumping back downstairs.

“Here,” he said, pressing a glass of water into my hands.

I pushed it back at him, spilling some onto his pants.

He set the glass on the table and gazed at me with exaggerated concern.

“Darling, you look rattled. Do you need a pill? I picked some up while we were gone. Found a very nice doctor, top of his field.”

And then I knew it was true. I could see it running behind his eyes
like a ticker tape—the false and self-serving concern that he would eventually convince himself was genuine, his enormous and growing satisfaction that I was, indeed, acting hysterically, along with his rewriting of history, so that he'd only ever done what was necessary for my happiness, because it was all he'd ever cared about—

It was like he was channeling my mother. I realized how much now hinged on my behavior, and did my best to channel her too.

“No, I just have a bit of a stomach bug,” I said. “I've been queasy all day. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go lie down for a bit.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, using the same unctuous tone.

“No. I'm sure I'll be fine.”

“Maddie?” he asked. “Were you in the kitchen just now, when we came back?”

“Yes,” I said, forcing a brief smile. “I was looking for something to settle my stomach.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Of course.”

“I'll come down at seven, shall I?”

“Only if you feel up to it,” he said. “Try to get some rest, darling.” I rose in as dignified a manner as I could, and somehow made it up the stairs.

Meg showed up within minutes.

I opened the door, then collapsed facedown on my bed.

“What's going on?” she said, closing the door. “You should have spoken louder. We couldn't hear a thing.”

“Bolt that, please,” I said.

She locked the door and sat beside me. “What happened? Did you tell him you were ending it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can't,” I said miserably. “I have to reconcile with Ellis, or at least pretend to.”

Meg jumped off the bed and spun angrily toward me. “
What?
How could you? Do you have any idea what this will do to Angus? Does he mean that little to you?”

“No, he means that much to me!” I whisper-shouted. “And if I ever do have a chance at a future with him, I'd like my brain intact!” Meg stared at me for a while, then sat back down.

“I don't think I follow,” she said.

“Do you remember when I told you my mother wanted me to have a lobotomy?”

“Yes,” she said doubtfully.

“Do you know what a lobotomy is?”

“No, not exactly.”

“They put a tiny spatula up through your eye socket into the front part of your brain and then twirl it around a bit—and that's exactly what my husband is going to have done to me the next time I do anything to upset him.”

Her mouth opened in horror. “But surely he can't do that!”

“It appears he can, since he's got it all arranged. I was diagnosed with a nervous ailment a few years ago, and my mother was entirely nuts. Ellis sold the doctor on the idea without the doctor ever laying eyes on me. All Ellis has to do is make a phone call, and they'll come cart me off.”

“Dear Lord in Heaven,” said Meg. She got up and walked stiffly to the chair.

“And you didn't tell him you asked about a divorce…”

“No, thank goodness. If I had, the ambulance would already be on its way.”

“And he doesn't know about you and Angus…”

“He suspects something, but certainly not the full extent of it.”