He was an imposing man, with a steely look in his eyes and his temples streaked with silver. He was always impeccably attired and that day he wore a heavy navy coat that almost brushed the floor.
“You must increase the pace,” she was telling him. “It’ll do no good next season.”
“You can’t hurry such things,” he said, and tapped his cigar against an ashtray. He had a fondness for those. Whenever I’d visited the Willows, he’d been smoking a cigar, with a cloud of smoke around him.
“It’s becoming dire and the tuition for the next term is due by January.”
“You know well it’s not an easy situation. I have creditors yelling at me each week. I would love to solve it all tomorrow, but there is nothing that can be done, not yet.”
“It’ll be a miserable Christmas if you don’t do something soon.I’ve done my bit and there’s nothing to show for it. It would be a lot easier if it was one. Why do we need two?”
“You know why two. Symmetry. Don’t try to teach me how things are done, girl.”
I was surprised to hear that the Wingraves were experiencing any economic turmoil, despite what Benjamin had told us during the Halloween dance. They seemed flush with cash and Carolyn had never hinted at any financial deprivations. Not that she would have confided in me about such matters, but I thought I would have suspected something was amiss. What did they need? Two loans, perhaps?
At that moment they spotted me. I gave them an awkward smile and felt embarrassed to be caught snooping around.
“Mr. Wingrave,” I said. “How do you do? Have you come to fetch Caro yourself?”
“I’m fine, Beatrice,” he said, clasping my extended hand with both of his strong, large ones. He had a grip that could crush bones. “And yes, if I didn’t drive to campus myself this girl might spend another hour primping before the mirror. I’m attempting to stop her from bringing ten pairs of shoes back to the Willows.”
“Daddy, you exaggerate! Come on, help me get packed,” Carolyn said, and swiftly took me by the arm.
We went upstairs to Carolyn’s room, where she proceeded to slowly go through her wardrobe, pulling out a dress and discarding it, then another. Because Carolyn lived in a single, probably the most spacious single in the whole dorm, she had enough dresses to outfit two girls.
“I should see how Ginny’s doing,” I said. “This morning she was awfully nervous.”
“She should be. She’s about to have Thanksgiving dinner with her future in-laws.”
“No, she wasn’t nervous about that.”
“Blue or green? I can’t decide,” Carolyn said, and held up a couple of sweaters for me to inspect.
“I think there’s something wrong with her. She complains someone’s following her.”
“There’s always something wrong with Gin-gin. She’s such a melodramatic child.” Carolyn lowered the sweaters, tossing them aside. “Betty, you really need to do my hair, Mother’s maid never gets it the way I like it.”
“What if she’s right, Caro? What if someone’s been spying on her? I know it sounds strange, but—”
“You worry too much. Ginny has butterflies in her stomachfrom staring at Edgar, that’s all. Maybe she feels a bit out of sorts, but a love affair does that sometimes; it drives you mad for a season. My hair, Betty, you must work your magic on it.”
Carolyn sat down at her dressing table—another benefit of having a single was the extra furniture she could fit in there—and looked at the mirror with expectant eyes. I’d brushed and curled Carolyn’s hair plenty of times and didn’t mind being something of a handmaiden to her, but I felt exasperated that morning. Carolyn wasn’t paying attention to anything I was saying.
I was about to begin brushing Carolyn’s hair when Ginny’s scream reverberated through the walls of Joyce House. I immediately dropped the brush and ran back to my room.
When I stepped inside, I found Ginny pointing at her bed, her eyes wide. A dead rat lay upon the bedsheets. It was on its back, its feet curled tight.
“Someone put it there,” Ginny said. “Someone put it.”
Carolyn had followed me and looked over my shoulder. She shook her head. “All this fuss over a rat? Virginia, it must have swallowed poison and crawled into your bed. By Jove, don’t cry, I’ll ask the house mother to clean it up. Virginia? Gin-gin?”
Ginny did not react to Carolyn’s words. She looked as if the life had been leached out of her body, just a husk of a girl leaning against the doorway.
Other girls were beginning to poke their heads into the room, asking what was wrong. I grabbed Ginny’s hand and walked down the stairs with her as she blubbered about the rat. I hoped Mr. Wingrave hadn’t heard the screams; the house mother would be furious if she found out a parent was around while one of us was causing a commotion. It reflected badly on her; it meant shehad a lax hand with the girls. In turn, the house mother might administer a punishment, or be stricter with us. I simply did not want trouble and needed to calm Ginny down.
We stepped outside. Ginny took a gulp of fresh air and crossed her arms.
“Caro’s right. It must have ingested poison and crawled onto your bed,” I said, although as far as I knew the handyman used traps, not poison, to deal with any vermin. But rats nibbled on everything. It might have chewed the wrong type of morsel.
