by Julia Ariss
Katherine and her father were conferring alone and Fanny, now left to her own devices, occupied herself examining the rogue's gallery of framed photos that lined the wall of the adjoining den. There were a few of Katherine and her deceased husband, but the lion's share was devoted to Jack. There were the requisite graduation photos and then the teenage Jack sailing, skiing, and grooming a horse, in school uniform, with and without braces, and finally a younger Jack laughing with his parents. What had begun as benign curiosity felt intrusive, and, turning to leave, she found herself face to face with him.
"You once mentioned Pinot Noir," he said handing her a glass of red wine. "I noticed you were empty handed...thought you might like to sample a new vintage from the County."
"From your winery?" she inquired, trying to keep her composure as she mulled over her first tentative sip. "God, that's smooth. So much nicer than the plonk I usually drink. Thank you."
"Great. I can't take any credit. I'm a silent partner. Quite mute. How are you anyway? Steering clear of pillars?"
"Keeping my distance. Thank you. Appreciate your concern, though. I'll be back at work on Monday."
"Good to hear," he said, holding her gaze.
"Look, I had no idea you were Katherine's nephew. My father only just told me. He's been very vague. It's complicated."
"So you've met my aunt?"
"Yes, she's made me feel very welcome. This is a first rate event by the way. All for a good cause."
"She's always been a fantastic fundraiser. Her foundation has been associated with a number of charities over the years. She's unflappable. She works like a fiend and makes it look effortless but whenever I think she's about to slow down, she picks up the pace and ups the ante. The work is all consuming but the more she does the more invigorated she seems to be. It's staggering."
"She puts the rest of us - well, me - to shame. Too much activity has the opposite effect on my stamina. Very quick to droop but I am trying to ah... rectify that."
"You don't strike me as much of a shrinking violet, Fanny."
"I wilt. Anyway....I was just noticing how many photos there are of you. You must be very close."
"Ah yes...the awkward years. Very well documented. I hesitate to cull her collection because I happen to know it was assembled with the very best intentions and affection. We'd always had a close bond and so after my parents died, it felt like a very natural transition. Instead of feeling set adrift, as one would expect in the aftermath of such a loss, I gained an increased sense of security when they ushered me into their home and lives, unconditionally. I was never once made to feel indebted. He stopped briefly, and tilting his head, paused to search her face, willfully locking her gaze with his own. "So. I understand your father and she have been working very closely on this project. I haven't had a chance to meet him yet."
"Oh really? There they are, just over there," she said pointing to them and as it dawned on her, a little late, that this was her cue she quickly added, "I'll introduce you." As they approached them, her father was absorbed in drowning a scallop in a white runny dip and at the precise moment he popped it into his mouth, Katherine, with lightning quick reflexes barely discernible to the naked eye, removed an offending blob of dip from his shirt with her cocktail napkin, her father none the wiser. It was the tiniest of gestures, a small kindness but nevertheless, an act of glacier melting proportions and the look Fanny directed at her reflected her heartfelt gratitude.
"Jack, this is my father."
"Professor Bower," Jack said offering his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Jack, and please, call me Robert. All the students do these days. Very chummy."
"I've been hearing these past weeks what a great help you've been with this event. I have it on the highest authority, in fact."
"Well, you've been misled. I believe all the accolades belong to her, she's done all the heavy lifting, but she insists on thanking me and I've grown fond of the slaps on the back I've been getting. I hope Fanny here is proving her worth at Barrington, making me proud."
"All reports have been excellent."
"These are certainly trying times. We see the unrest on campus too. I've heard there's been plenty of excitement at Barrington lately."
"Yes, too much...excitement but Fanny seems to have come through with flying colours. Very resilient. Impressive." These niceties flowed on but if he was being snarky, Fanny was assured her father hadn't detected anything from his relentless interrogation of him. She stood apart, sipping her wine and observing as his questioning veered from prop planes to insurance rates and then onto the merits of dividend investing, all of which Jack, to his credit, addressed patiently and respectfully. Eventually, Katherine retreated and turned her attention to more pressing matters, but Jack appeared oblivious and continued to submit to her father's grilling. Katherine interrupted after a while and guided her father away to introduce him to old friends, and Fanny, watching them leave, began looking around and weighing her options. It seemed brash to force herself upon perfect strangers, but it was as good a time as any to commence flinging herself at the unsuspecting, to flutter her new wings about. The wine helped. The only obstacle was Jack who hadn't budged and was blocking the only decent escape route.
"Well."
"I should probably-."
"Your father has been spending a lot of time with my aunt in the past few months. I didn't pick up on it when his name came up repeatedly - and out of context - that he was anything more than a colleague, but now I see that there is something else brewing. I suppose all the tell-tale signs were there all along, had I taken the time to read between the lines."
Honestly, brewing? "My father is dedicated to the future of Queen’s. It's a priority. He's always been a vocal advocate for higher education, and he's thrilled to have found such an enthusiastic supporter. I'm glad to see him involved in such a worthy cause with Katherine, who could more than ably handle it on her own. But two heads are better than one with these things. Teamwork." It was possible she was overstating her father's level of commitment a smidgen; he was also known to project dreamily about retirement and the contented hours he would spend poring over crosswords. It was the innuendo she resented.
"Yes... they appear to make a good team. Time will tell, I guess. It's never been surprising the degree of willingness and cooperation she receives when you consider the amount of money at stake. She's a magnet for opportunists, of course, who are drawn to her for some sort of personal gain. It's always best to proceed with caution in these endeavors."
"Uh...what?" Fanny idled, silently fuming for a few moments as she collated her thoughts. She knew if she rushed she would stumble. "Is Katherine always subjected to such dire warnings, to beware of charlatans and...and wolves in sheep's clothing? How delightful it must be to have her doting nephew vetting all her friends. I can assure you that my father is devoid of guile and conducts himself with the utmost integrity. And this isn't some fluff vanity project for him either. Truth be told, he actually finds these sorts of obligations torturous, and that is why I've come, for... propping up and...and morale boosting-."
"He appears to be standing on his own two feet quite handily," he interjected with a bemused smile, looking in the direction of Katherine and her father who were standing side by side chatting amiably with guests. "That is not to say he didn't want you here, but maybe for a different reason."
His earlier courtesy with her father had left her more generously disposed toward him but her good will had evaporated. Lumping her father in with gold-diggers was the absolute limit, and if he hadn't just given her such a maddening grin she would have been content to turn the other cheek, but her desire to have the last word was more that she could stand.
"This work has given him the peace of mind he so richly deserves. He's a... tormented man and one of the reasons he is so attached to this project is because it has become a welcome diversion from his anguish over my mother who was and will always remain, the love of his life." She'd embellishe
d the bit about her father's fragile emotional state, but it had escaped before she had a chance to haul it back in. Nonetheless, it had the worthwhile and immensely satisfying effect of wiping the smirk off his face. He looked utterly nonplussed. Had they not been wedged into a corner and immobilized by the crowd she would have parted ways but was instead stuck, biding her time, searching the room for someone, anyone she could plausibly pass off as an old friend.
"I was told you would be here by my aunt, shortly after I arrived," he said neutrally, casually redirecting the conversation. "They've kept things all very clandestine up to this point, I suspect. God knows why. I was surprised and strangely, not. You see your name keeps coming up Fanny, for one reason or another. You've been top of mind, lately."
She tried to catch his expression, but he'd reverted back to his stock cheesed off look; his eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing her shoulder. She shrugged and craned her neck to one side to scope out the crowd but shivered as she felt an over-familiar hand lightly caress her shoulder and slide down her arm to clasp her elbow. She turned toward Jack as his hand was advancing into the small of her back and, just as a plate of shish kebab whizzed by grazing her shoulder, he pulled her forcefully toward him, narrowly averting a collision.
"Sorry Fanny, just trying to prevent a skewer incident before the bidding starts. My aunt would be inconsolable."
"Thanks... phew. Close call. I may call on you, if they decide to set up lawn darts." The entire episode, lasting mere seconds, had brought on a warm, not unpleasant rush, leaving her struggling to shake the sensation and get a grip. She noticed he was relaxed again having lost the censorious sneer, even displaying his dimple, pleased his decisive action had saved the day, no doubt, and unruffled by their little dance. She would channel cool detachment. It would not do to come undone.
"I suppose you think I'm an insensitive prat?" he said, matter-of-factly.
Who says prat, anyway? "If you're referring to my father and your aunt, I think you have a weak imagination. Formulaic." And lame. "Not your fault. Your profession demands it. Occupational hazard." He flinched and the colour drained from his face, so she shifted gears. "But you are single-minded and driven and you operate a thriving business with hundreds of... grateful employees. I'm sure you're well regarded among your peers and feared by your competitors."
"Ah well...that's a comfort."
The crowd parted and he nodded and moved toward the door and Fanny, left standing with her empty wine glass, decided to switch to water. She could see that her father and Katherine were taken up with meeting and greeting so she wove her way to the door and then down the steps in the direction of the tent. She wandered over to the silent auction items and paused to examine a few, but even the starting bids made her blush, so she backed off and found the raffle tickets. It felt awkward purchasing a single ticket but not nearly as awkward, she reminded herself, as it would feel bouncing a rent cheque. Looking up she caught Jack's eye as he stood holding court beside the tasting bar, encircled by a swarm of the behatted ones. She felt a jolt, as though he'd transmitted his disapproval, or whatever it was, clear across the tent. One of the women, festooned with a lilac fascinator jutting out from her forehead, followed his gaze and shot her a piercing look. He turned his attention back to them and the women resumed their tittering and slavish fawning over his every word. It occurred to her that his girlfriend's unexplained absence could have been strategic; this was a tough crowd for the uninitiated.
In stages, Fanny was able to merge with a large circle of people and attempted to insert herself into the conversation with a show of appreciative nodding at all that was being said. There was a noisy and boisterous exchange taking place with great gales of laughter and a scarcity of wit, but it hardly mattered. The one thing she had gleaned from her longstanding habit of standing idly by, unenthralled, was that it was the job of the listener to extract the funny from the banal. Listening raptly was the price of admission and that, she could do. She understood the real knack to penetrating these groups was to turn up the volume with a more forceful and compelling sideshow than the rest, but she was ill-equipped to go the circus act route and there was considerably less risk in blending in, so she kept to the sidelines, trying to manifest gaiety. The same waxen smile was still fixed on her face ten minutes later when she was roused from a daydream with a tap on the shoulder.
"How are you coping? Hadn't intended to abandon you," her father said, running his hands through his sweat dampened hair.
Fanny studied his stricken expression and saw immediately that he was exhibiting the classic signs of social fatigue and was possibly in need of rescuing. "I'm fine but you look exhausted Dad; are you okay?"
"Yes, of course... it's just that the champagne has worn off. As it will. Katherine informs me there will be an equestrian demonstration starting soon near the paddock that might interest you. She sponsors local riding students. I need to confer with the Auctioneer before they set up but I'll join you as soon as I can sneak away. Over there, just beyond the forest. Take the path along the perimeter of the woods."
Fanny jumped at this welcome diversion and made her way to the forest, opting at the last minute to take a shortcut. She was savouring the enchanting coolness of the path through the woods and basking in the lush surroundings when it eventually hit her that the hum of the crowd had been replaced by the buzz of mosquitoes. Hastening in the direction of what seemed the most logical way out proved disorienting and confirmed her gnawing fear that she was indeed quite lost. Her sense of direction was middling at best but this path seemed designed to confound, leading nowhere, like a cruel maze from a bad fairytale. Finally, after having endured a half hour of dead ends in bare feet, and suffering the effects of a failed bid to outrun the mosquitoes, she spotted the lilac fascinator popping in and out of view and used it to guide herself out of the forest and toward a long stable. She slipped her shoes back on and moved toward the open door and heard a cackling female voice. As she neared the building she recognized Jack's voice also.
"...always loved apples and women," he was saying.
"And not necessarily in that order," added his lilac-adorned companion, whom Fanny could now just make out, arching her back and trilling merrily. Fanny edged backward, sinking her wedge heels into a fresh manure pile and let loose a torrent of unseemly utterances.
"Oh, it's you," Jack said, peering out from the door, with a wry look. "Having a moment, are we? Actually, you're overheated - I can see that now. You should probably duck in here for a few minutes and get some shade."
"Yes, I guess you're right," she said, glumly, as she snatched furtive glances at her feet, inspecting for damage. She made a hurried and largely fruitless attempt to rub the worst of it onto the grass before joining him inside. "I lost my way in the forest...didn't think to leave a trail of bread crumbs. Sorry about the salty language," she said, cutting herself off as she spotted his companion, who was holding the reins of a chestnut colored horse and looking vaguely put-upon. She offered her an apprehensive smile and received a blank stare.
"Fanny, I'd like you to meet Bimsy and Sam," Jack said.
"Nice to meet you, Bimsy," Fanny said, as she tripped on a loose floor board and lunged toward the woman with her extended hand.
"It's Sam, actually," she replied acidly, offering a limp handshake and sniffing in faint disgust. "Have we met before? It seems unlikely, but for some reason-"
"Samantha and Mr. Bimsy go back a long way, and he adores her," Jack interrupted. "She used to train with him some years back...would you like to feed him a treat, Fanny?" he asked, offering her a piece of apple from a container.
Fanny placed the apple on her flattened palm and Mr. Bimsy reached his neck down and gingerly took it in his mouth, his velvety lips lightly caressing her hand. She stroked his neck cautiously and Jack reached over and placed his hand over hers, guiding it a short distance downward.
"He loves that, especially right there," he said, releasing her hand slowly. "See, he's war
ming to you; you're a natural. He's sensing you're a cut above."
"I doubt there's a future for me as a horse whisperer, but thanks. My goodness, you're in peak condition... Mr. Bimsy. And handsome, too. Such a beautiful coat and such a good fella. Yes, you're a good boy," Fanny said, as she continued stroking and blathering on to Mr. Bimsy, while feigning nonchalance about the intensity of Jack's grasp. Though it was true that some people were by nature or upbringing more touchy-feely, and it followed that it was absurd to read anything into it, she was convinced that had it been she who'd grabbed his hand, there would have been much more to it; they both would have understood instantly that something was up. She was not a reckless flirt. In the end, she chalked it up to the desensitizing effect of all that routine master-of-the-universe, boardroom backslapping. She needed to appear unmoved by it, her attention focused on Mr. Bimsy alone. "The thing is - I don't actually get horses. I didn't grow up around them. I mean Mr. Bimsy seems like a charmer; it's just I have so little experience with them. I'm new at this."
"He doesn't care," Jack said dryly. "He's unassuming, just carry on...more of the same, Fanny, he knows what he likes. He's already hooked-"
"That's it. Huh! I thought you looked familiar. I know exactly where I've seen you," Sam interjected triumphantly, flashing dagger eyes. "You're that demonstrator. Not carrying a placard today?"
"Not," she answered, catching Jack's eye. "It didn't work with my outfit. Too showy."
"Fanny works for Barrington, in the H.R. department. She got herself into a tangle quite innocently, but you should ignore whatever you've seen or read. They couldn't have pegged her more wrong as a matter of fact."
Fanny detected smugness in his words, and such glib self-satisfaction needed to be addressed. "Well, I don't go in for herd behavior, that's true, but I do have opinions and cares and ideas of my own."
"I don't doubt that," Jack said, meeting her eyes.
"Mr. Bimsy? Is that you? What is that vile stench anyway? Too many apples, I suppose," Sam exclaimed, as Mr. Bimsy countered with a belch.
