Greed

Home > Other > Greed > Page 8
Greed Page 8

by D Thomas Jewett


  And then he grimaced when his thoughts turned to Mother’s Social. I hate it when those women make over me!

  In his mind, he pictured Lady Humphries’ big mouth. “Oh, Jessica darling – he’s such a handsome boy, and such beautiful curls!”

  But Basil hated his curls. They make me look like a girl!

  The social gathering was accompanied with tea and crumpets; and frilly, frumpy women sitting around and talking like magpies about nothing important. As he closed his eyes, he could picture those old women, their mouths moving incessantly as their shrill voices grew louder and louder. Their gossip just went on, and on – and on. The old bags!

  * * *

  Master Basil wore a suit every day; and he wore it well. But he looked especially good, especially elegant, in his gray suit. As Master Basil walked into the dining room, his butler held out the Master’s chair for seating. “May I provide you anything, sir?”

  “Yes, Swenson” Master Basil replied. “Please get me some orange juice and some water.”

  “Very well, sir.” Swenson was a model of efficiency. Magically, the orange juice and water appeared; and then Swenson rushed off to get the Master’s breakfast.

  “Eggs Benedict; as you like them, sir.” Swenson bowed and stepped back and behind Master Basil. He waited on the Master’s next command.

  Swenson was still waiting when Lady Jessica walked into the dining room. Master Basil looked up and into her eyes. “Good morning, Mother.”

  Beautiful as always, the corner of Lady Jessica's mouth crooked up slightly in greeting. “Good morning, Basil. How did you sleep?”

  “My sleep was satisfactory.” Basil said.

  My but this is the first time I've heard him say that word, Swenson thought.

  “Are you ready for your science instruction this morning?”

  “No, Mother.” Basil blurted out. “I do not like the science teacher. He asks hard questions and he doesn’t tell me the answers!”

  “Well, dear, I will speak with him,” Jessica replied.

  “But Mother.” Basil’s face was turning red now. “You have already talked with him twice, and he still won’t tell me the answers!”

  “Well, dear.” Jessica's voice had a cold, distant quality. “Perhaps he wants you to find the answers for yourself.”

  Basil’s face turned an intense crimson. “No, Mother! I want you to fire him!”

  “But dear. We’ve already fired two teachers this month.”

  “No! No!” Basil was out of his chair and screaming at Jessica now. “I won’t go! I won’t go!”

  Lady Jessica shrugged. “Basil, you must go.”

  “No, Mother. No!” Basil sprung out of his chair and ran out of the dining room.

  They heard a door slam shut.

  Emotionless, silent, Lady Jessica remained standing.

  She glanced over to the corner where Swenson watched the unfolding drama. Swenson felt his body tight, tense, as though he were a spring under pressure. But then he sensed relaxation beginning to wash through him.

  Lady Jessica's face – especially her eyes and her mouth – looked sad; and then out of nowhere her eyes sparkled and her smile emerged. She nodded to Swenson. “Good morning my dear Swenson. Are you well?”

  “Very well, My Lady. And you?” Swenson looked at her with his head crooked to one side.

  “I am fine, my dear Swenson. Please – carry on.” She turned to leave and then looked back at Swenson. “Oh. Will you please help Brewer with the preparations for my social?”

  Swenson came to attention. “Of course, My Lady.”

  With that, Lady Jessica turned and walked out of the room, while humming a song.

  Swenson shook his head and went off to find Lady Jessica’s butler, Brewer.

  * * *

  In the circle of English socialites, a Lady Jessica 'social' was not just any event. It was an event to which invitations were highly sought.

  So one might ask, what attracts the female upper crust to Lady Jessica's social gatherings? The reasons were varied – as varied as the guests themselves. Some women wanted to establish a network with other women, so they could help their husbands advance. And others wanted to show off their latest gown, their newest shoes, their exquisite jewelry, or their new found wealth. But the primal desire of each of these women was privilege – to hobnob with the elite – to be the crème de la crème. And since the women were competing for status, Jessica’s Socials tended to reveal the womens’ claws.

  And strange as it may seem, many socialites found this – the claws and the snarling – to be an entertaining activity.

  Each socialite was announced as she entered. Many walked as though they'd (indeed!) been trained. With head held high, shoulders back, and spine erect, each socialite walked as though she were floating above the marble floor.

  Master Basil stood over to the side of the room, watching each woman enter in all her fluffy, frumpy glory. He waited. Waited for the one woman he had eyes for – Lady Diana.

  Finally, the announcer called out, “Lady Diana.” And in that moment, Master Basil's eyes sparkled as he smiled broadly, excitedly. He watched as Lady Diana entered the ballroom.

  Many described The Lady as stunning, glowing, radiant, with bright beautiful eyes and – and dimples! Tall and regal in her own right, she had an unpretentious smile and a free-flowing manner that stood in stark contrast to the petty shallowness of the other socialites.

  Lady Diana had a standing invitation to Jessica's social gatherings. And she was somewhat of a fixture at the Manor; which is to say she visited quite often. And with her visits, she would fuss over Basil in a grandmotherly sort of way. But Basil didn’t mind. He liked the attention she gave him.

  Unlike his mother Lady Jessica, Master Basil was drawn to Diana – even though she was just his second cousin. Sometimes she seemed to awaken in young Basil some long-ago feelings of closeness. And yet Basil was aware of painful feelings – as though he had experienced a deep and painful loss. And with these feelings of pain, Basil learned it was better not to feel.

  Lady Diana walked up to Master Basil and smiled at him. “And how are you today, Master Basil?”

  Master Basil's eyes lit up and his smile was broad. “Fine,” he said.

  Master Basil clasped the Lady's hand. She pulled him to her, and they hugged. Finally, Lady Diana ended their embrace; holding Basil at arm’s length.

  “So,” Lady Diana continued, “what have you been up to?”

  Master Basil looked down to the floor as he responded. “Oh, nothing.” He paused. “Just school.”

  And then he looked at Diana. “I'm bored.”

  Lady Diana laughed. “I've got news for you my young Basil. So am I.”

  Just then, Lady Jessica interrupted them. “Basil my boy, it's time for you to have your lunch.”

  “But Mother,” Basil pleaded, “I just want to talk with Lady Diana for a little more.”

  She took Basil's hand and marched him toward the kitchen. “I'm sorry dear,” she glared back at Lady Diana as they were walking, “But Lady Diana is busy and you must have your lunch.”

  Master Basil stopped walking and looked up at Jessica. “No!” He shouted. “I want Lady Diana!”

  “No, Basil. You come with me,” she replied in a firm voice.

  With that, Master Basil pulled away from Jessica and dropped to the floor. He thrashed on the floor; hitting it with his hands and feet as he screamed and shouted, “No! No! No! I want Lady Diana!”

  Lady Jessica stood her ground, watching young Basil throw his tantrum. “Basil, dear. You let me know when you're done with your tantrum – you will, now, won't you?”

  At that moment, Lady Diana came up. “Is there anything I can do?” She asked Jessica.

  Jessica turned and looked at Diana. Her voice was pure venom as she said, “Haven't you done enough?”

  Neither had noticed that Basil had ceased his tantrum and was watching the two.

  Lady Diana was take
n aback. “What do you mean, Jessica?” Lady Diana really did not understand Jessica's insinuation; and her innocent and curious voice attested to that fact.

  Lady Jessica's eyes bored into Diana. “Stay away from him,” she spat.

  “Stay away from him?” Diana paused. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Who I am, my dear Diana, is his mother!”

  “Bullshit,” Diana spat. “Why don't you tell him the truth!”

  “What – what,” Basil interrupted with a pleading voice. “My Lady, what's the truth?”

  But Jessica grabbed Basil and pulled him behind her. She turned and glared at Diana. “You stay away from him, damn it! Stay away,” she hissed.

  She turned and dragged Basil toward the kitchen.

  * * *

  “Mother, when can I see Lady Diana again?”

  “Basil honey. Lady Diana has moved away,” Lady Jessica lied. “It will be some time before you can see her again.”

  “But why? Why? Why did she leave, Mother?”

  “She left because of an emergency,” Jessica replied.

  “But Mother, she would have told me that she was leaving.”

  “Basil, darling. Lady Diana was called away with no notice,” Lady Jessica lied again. “I'm sure she will contact you when she has time.”

  Master Basil wiped away tears.

  “Basil, honey,” Lady Jessica continued. “You should not cry. You should never cry. It does not become you – the next King of the world.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Chapter 2

  Master Basil was standing on his balcony when he heard still another limousine drive onto the grounds. Off to the left, he watched the limo drive through the wooded, shaded grounds and toward the front entrance to The Manor.

  Master Basil knew there was much more activity than normal. But he neither knew nor understood what it was about. Nonetheless, he was curious, if not intrigued. This is very unusual for the middle of the week, he thought. I think I'll investigate, he smiled at himself at his use of a new word.

  Basil walked – actually, ran would be a better description – along his usual path from his suite on out to the palace foyer. Just in time to watch two men in suits walk into father’s office.

  Oh wow! Who are they?

  Swenson was holding a door open for the men when he spied Master Basil. “Keep low,” Swenson mouthed at Basil; and then grimaced in a way that told Basil to lie low and keep some distance. Basil put his finger to his mouth in a gesture to ‘be quiet’; then he responded by receding into the shadow of a pillar.

  Swenson quickly finished with his doorman charge and wandered over to where Master Basil was ‘hiding’.

  “Hey Swenson, what is going on?” Basil whispered.

  Swenson looked down at the young man, whispering. “Your father is conducting some rather important meetings.”

  “What about?”

  “What about?” Swenson mimicked. “You're too young to know about this!”

  “I'm twelve,” Basil announced.

  “Twelve,” Swenson repeated. “Master Basil, that's too young.”

  “Aw c'mon, Swenson,” Basil pleaded. “What's going on. Please?”

  “Well, I don't really know what's going on. But even if I did, I'm sure I couldn't say.” And then Swenson's voice turned to a whisper. “I heard them talking about the ‘Federal Reserve’ and ‘President’. So, it must have something to do with the United States.”

  Master Basil nodded. He knew that the U.S. and the President were a common topic of discussion in father’s circle. But he also knew that this was uncommon – to have so many of Father’s high-level associates assembling – with hardly any notice.

  Basil retreated to his suite, where he began plotting to find out what father’s meeting was about.

  Once he had a plan, he again walked toward the palace foyer and father’s adjoining office. But this time, he snuck up on the rear office door – the door that no one but the servants ever used.

  Putting his ear to the door, he overheard fragments of the conversation – “Batista” ... “Cuba” ...

  Master Basil could barely make out any words, and it left him still more curious and intrigued. Just then, Brewer came walking up from behind with a tray of refreshments. Basil was intent on his eavesdropping and did not hear Brewer’s approach. Brewer tapped Basil on the shoulder.

  “Huh?” Basil shuddered and almost fell over.

  Brewer looked at Basil in a condescending manner. “You had best not stay here, Master Basil. Or your father may hear of it!”

  Master Basil retreated to his suite.

  * * * * *

  That night, after Basil had fallen asleep . . .

  Basil opened his eyes to the sound of a woman's voice. “My dear Basil. You are so handsome, my dear. You so warm my heart.”

  Is that mother? He thought. Still dark. Basil felt himself begin to shiver. Not again!

  “Hel ... hello, Mother.”

  He could sense her breathing, and feel her close by his bed. “My dear Basil,” she cooed. “I'm cold. Could you warm me?” Without asking, she lifted the covers and came into the bed with him.

  Basil knew instinctively she was naked. He felt heat pouring from her body. She drew closer; and drew him closer to her – so that their bodies touched along the contours of hers'. Oh my God, he thought, this feels so good.

  “Oh Basil, darling,” she whispered as she began removing his clothes. “You must be so hot. Here, let me help.”

  “But Mother.” Basil cried.

  “Oh, Basil. Your mother needs you. She needs to be close to you.” He felt his pajamas sliding down.

  Then Basil felt her hand down on him. “Oh Basil, you still have shorts on. Please,” she cooed still more, “let me help with those.”

  He felt his shorts slide below his waist. Felt her hand touching him. Then he closed his eyes. His body writhed even more intensely as he responded to her soft flesh against him – this is so wrong! So wrong!!! Basil thrashed in his confusion – both shame and pleasure washing through him. Oh my God. I'm gonna die!

  And then his young body became hard; impervious to any feelings from within or without.

  Basil turned over and warmed his body to hers. His eyes gleamed, and a smirk grew on his boys’ lips. Pulling her closer, he said, “Come here, Mother. I can take care of you.”

  Chapter 3

  Gazing across the expanse of forest, pasture, and river, Master Basil was leaning against the balcony railing when he heard a car drive on to the grounds. He looked to his left and watched the limo drive through the estate grounds, finally pulling up to the Manor's front entrance.

  Master Basil did not know who was in the limo. People come and go all the time, he thought. Why should I care? Nonetheless, Basil was bored and curious; and so he decided to investigate.

  He strode quickly along his usual path from his suite on out to the palace foyer. He reached it just in time to see a woman walk into father’s office. Is that Lady Diana? He thought. Oh, how I've missed her! Basil made a movement to intercept her, and then he thought better of it. I'll get to see her when she comes out.

  As Swenson held the door for The Lady, he caught a glimpse of Master Basil. He grimaced toward Basil, in a way that told Basil to lie low and keep some distance. Basil crossed his mouth with his finger. Quiet! Then Basil receded into the shadow of a pillar.

  Swenson quickly closed the door and sauntered over to Master Basil's hideout.

  “Hey Swenson, what's going on?” Basil’s whispered voice had just a hint of intrigue.

  Swenson grimaced. “If I did know, I could not tell you. But, I do not know, Master Basil.” And then Swenson put his face close to Basil's and whispered, “I know only that Lady Diana wanted to speak with him.”

  Swenson glanced at his wristwatch. “I have some important duties to attend to.” And then Swenson looked sharply at Basil, and said, “You watch out for yourself.”

  Swenson departed,
leaving Master Basil to wonder what his next action should be.

  I think I'll just go back to the service door and mill around – see if I can hear anything, he thought. He walked softly around to the office service entrance. Only the servants use it, he thought. No one’s going to see me.

  He could hear fragments of conversation inside the room.

  “ ... but, George, he's mine ...”

  “... I know, I know, ... but Jessica ... wanted him to be hers ... how do I? ...”

  The more Basil listened, the more it aroused his curiosity, and the more confused he became. He listened more.

  “... Damn it, George,” Basil heard Diana's voice resonate with anger, “he's my son – not that damn witch Jessica's ...”

  “... I know. I know ...”

  As Basil listened, his face became red. His jaw already tight, became contorted; and his eyes – his eyes lit up as though on fire.

  Basil withdrew from the door and returned to his suite.

  Chapter 4

  Expansive and plush, Lord George appreciated his office and all its appointments. Walnut woodwork with gold inlay, an intricately carved mahogany desk, paneling, and bookcases – all reeking of obscene wealth – surrounding him whenever he worked.

  George’s desk stood near the back-center of the room, with bookcases adorning the wall to the right of the desk. Much of the remaining space was taken up with leather upholstered lounge chairs and two sofas. On the wall to the left of the desk was an unobtrusive wet bar; well stocked with brandy, very old scotch, and other means of liquid respite. Off to one side, a doorway led into a meeting room – a large meeting table was visible through the doorway.

  Master Basil took all of this in as he stood in the office doorway. “You wanted to see me, Father?”

  Lord George was seated at his desk, looking over some documents. He looked up at his son and smiled, clasping his finely-manicured hands together. “Thank you for coming, Basil. I have so much to discuss with you.” He gestured to a leather chair and said, “Please, come in and sit down.”

 

‹ Prev