One Night Only (38 page)

So
,
feelin
g
extr
a
guilt
y
an
d
forgettin
g
sh
e
wa
s
lat
e
for school
,
T
es
s
mad
e
th
e
te
a
fro
m
Polly
’
s
kettl
e
tha
t
was alway
s
o
n
th
e
boi
l
(yes
,
‘Poll
y
Pu
t
th
e
Kettl
e
On
’
–
th
e
old one
s
ar
e
th
e
best
)
an
d
brough
t
i
t
t
o
Rut
h
wh
o
wa
s
now sittin
g
a
t
th
e
kitche
n
table
,
he
r
fac
e
staine
d
wit
h
dollops o
f
mascar
a
an
d
he
r
eye
s
blood-re
d
fro
m
he
r
(a
s
T
es
s
was t
o
late
r
know
)
menta
l
breakdown
.
I
t
wa
s
a
horrible, horribl
e
thin
g
t
o
watch
.

“
Than
k
you,
”
sh
e
said
.
“Than
k
you
.
Bot
h
o
f
you
.
Tha
n
k
you.
”

Rut
h
grippe
d
th
e
cu
p
wit
h
bot
h
hand
s
an
d
raise
d
i
t
to he
r
lips
.

W
ithou
t
takin
g
he
r
eye
s
of
f
he
r
,
T
es
s
sa
t
dow
n
o
n
the chai
r
opposit
e
an
d
watche
d
i
n
admiratio
n
a
s
he
r
sister
too
k
charg
e
o
f
wha
t
wa
s
no
w
a
ver
y
delicat
e
situation
.

“
Y
o
u
kno
w
yo
u
ca
n
tal
k
t
o
me,
”
sh
e
sai
d
t
o
Rut
h
i
n
a
voic
e
T
es
s
onl
y
eve
r
hear
d
Poll
y
us
e
wit
h
he
r
children. “N
o
woma
n
i
s
alon
e
whe
n
sh
e
ha
s
he
r
friends
,
and
everyon
e
need
s
a
friend
.
W
e
al
l
nee
d
ou
r
friends.
”

Friends
?
S
o
al
l
o
f
a
sudde
n
the
y
wer
e
friends
?
Y
es
,
T
ess
coul
d
se
e
th
e
gir
l
neede
d
help
.
I
t
wa
s
a
s
plai
n
a
s
th
e
fact tha
t
sh
e
neede
d
he
r
root
s
don
e
badl
y
,
bu
t
friends
?
That wa
s
takin
g
i
t
a
bi
t
to
o
fa
r
.

“I’
m
s-s-sorr
y
,
”
stuttere
d
Rut
h
betwee
n
shak
y
slurp
s
of tea
.
“
I
shouldn
’
t
hav
e
called
.
I
–
”

“
Y
es
,
yo
u
shoul
d
hav
e
called,
”
sai
d
Poll
y
.
“
Y
o
u
were righ
t
t
o
call
.
Y
o
u
wer
e
mean
t
t
o
call
.
It
’
s
bette
r
tha
t
you le
t
al
l
thi
s
emotio
n
ou
t
her
e
tha
n
a
t
hom
e
o
n
you
r
own.
T
es
s
wa
s
jus
t
ventin
g
of
f
som
e
long-withhel
d
ange
r
.
She
didn
’
t
mea
n
t
o
touc
h
a
nerv
e
lik
e
that
,
di
d
you
,
T
ess?
”

T
es
s
looke
d
a
t
Poll
y
wit
h
widene
d
eye
s
an
d
sh
e
reacted wit
h
a
raise
d
eyebro
w
–
again
,
a
loo
k
tha
t
T
es
s
ha
d
only
eve
r
see
n
he
r
us
e
wit
h
he
r
children
.

“No
,
I
.
.
.
wel
l
.
.
.
look
,
I
nee
d
t
o
ge
t
bac
k
t
o
work,” sai
d
T
ess
.
“
I
wa
s
jus
t
passin
g
through
.
Her
e
–
”
Sh
e
pu
t
the loca
l
pape
r
o
n
th
e
tabl
e
an
d
wondere
d
i
f
sh
e
reall
y
should rus
h
of
f
bu
t
let
’
s
fac
e
it
,
sh
e
wasn
’
t
exactl
y
Florence
Nightingale
,
wa
s
she
?

“What
’
s
that?
”
aske
d
Poll
y
,
lookin
g
a
t
T
es
s
a
s
i
f
she
wa
s
he
r
mothe
r
.
“Wh
y
di
d
yo
u
brin
g
m
e
th
e
newspaper?” “Jus
t
.
.
.
it
’
s
just
,
afte
r
Spaghetti-Gat
e
I
though
t
you ma
y
b
e
intereste
d
i
n
th
e
a
d
o
n
pag
e
twenty-five
.
It
’
s
a
specia
l
offe
r
.
A
weeken
d
break
.
It
’
s
fo
r
thi
s
weekend, whic
h
i
s
wh
y
it
’
s
s
o
chea
p
an
d
i
t
migh
t
b
e
impossibly
short
notice
but
I
think
it
would
do
us
the
world
of
good,
i
f
yo
u
coul
d
ge
t
Jame
s
t
o
giv
e
yo
u
som
e
tim
e
out.”
“
T
im
e
out?
”
sai
d
Poll
y
,
a
s
i
f
T
es
s
ha
d
jus
t
suggeste
d
a
cur
e
fo
r
cance
r
.