picked it up.
‘Miz Templeton?’ Dominick’s rough, familiar accent was pleasantly reassuring. ‘It’s your husband.’
‘Thank you, Dominick.’
‘Hey, what gives?’ were Bill’s first words. ‘I called you twice. The first time you were busy. The second time, no answer.’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied. ‘I didn’t hear the phone ring. Maybe you got the wrong number.’
Bill made a small, thoughtful sound. Then: ‘How’s my little princess?’
‘Okay. She doesn’t have a fever. It’s probably just one of those one-day things.’
‘Well, keep her in anyway. I mean, don’t go out - it was really freezing this morning.’
‘I wouldn’t think of it,’ Janice said with a light dramatic flourish.
‘I may be home early.’
‘Swell. Call me later and let me know,’ Janice said, trying to end the conversation.
‘How about calling Carole to see if they’re available tomorrow night for dinner?’
‘All right.’
A pause. Then: ‘Anything else doing there?’
‘No.’ Why didn’t he hang up?
The telephone in the living-room rang again. Its distant, strident sounds caused every nerve in Janice’s body to scream in protest.
‘I’ve got to go, Bill,’ she heard herself sputter in almost a gasp. ‘The other phone is ringing.’
‘Answer it, I’ll wait,’ Bill said.
Janice put down the phone, too brusquely, and hurried up the hallway to the living-room.
By the time she got there Ivy had already answered it and was tailing off the conversation.
‘Fine, thank you,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Good-bye.’ And softly returned the phone to its cradle.
Janice’s heart pounded as she took several steps into the living-room. Her voice was surprisingly casual as she asked Ivy who had called.
‘A man,’ Ivy replied. ‘He wanted to know if I was all right’
‘Did he mention his name?’
‘No.’
‘Most likely a wrong number.’
‘Unh-unh. He called me Ivy.’
Janice was amazed at her own control as she idly commented, ‘Maybe a teacher at school. They worry about you kids, you know.’
‘Hey, I’ll bet it was Mr Soames.’ Ivy broke into laughter. ‘He’s always asking the girls how they are. He asked Bettina the other day, and she wasn’t even sick.’
Janice suddenly remembered Bill waiting on the other line.
‘Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down, dear? I’ve got your father hanging on the other phone.’
What about my milk and cookies?’
‘I’ll bring them up to you. Go now, run.’
Ivy moved towards the staircase with some reluctance.
‘Who was it?’ Bill asked.
‘One of the teachers wanting to know how Ivy is feeling,’ Janice replied without even pausing to think.
‘Oh? Which one?’
‘Mr Soames.’
Later, while Ivy was napping and Janice had a moment to collect her thoughts and calmly review each step of the ghastly situation, she wondered why she hadn’t just simply told Bill the truth. She could think of no answer beyond a vague, foolish wish to preserve the peace and tranquillity of their coming weekend. Yes, that was it - she was seeking to protect their weekend, to permit them once more, perhaps for the last time, to savour the loving motions of togetherness before the axe descended, as she knew it inevitably must.
She was buying time.
*
The cab deposited Bill on the park side of Sixty-second Street, across from Gristede’s Market. After a quick, instinctive sweep of the terrain, he jogged across the wide boulevard and entered the store.
Bill walked down the narrow aisles, filling the shiny aluminium shopping cart with cans and boxes and packets of beans, soups, kraut, bacon, hot dogs, milk, various kinds of breads and rolls, peanuts, chips, spreads, packaged cakes, ice cream, a veritable storehouse of provisions.
At the greens counter he selected three heads of iceberg lettuce and six bright-red hothouse tomatoes which he was shocked to find selling for a dollar five a pound.
Rounding the aisle of the meat counter,
‘Miz Templeton?’ Dominick’s rough, familiar accent was pleasantly reassuring. ‘It’s your husband.’
‘Thank you, Dominick.’
‘Hey, what gives?’ were Bill’s first words. ‘I called you twice. The first time you were busy. The second time, no answer.’
‘I don’t know,’ she lied. ‘I didn’t hear the phone ring. Maybe you got the wrong number.’
Bill made a small, thoughtful sound. Then: ‘How’s my little princess?’
‘Okay. She doesn’t have a fever. It’s probably just one of those one-day things.’
‘Well, keep her in anyway. I mean, don’t go out - it was really freezing this morning.’
‘I wouldn’t think of it,’ Janice said with a light dramatic flourish.
‘I may be home early.’
‘Swell. Call me later and let me know,’ Janice said, trying to end the conversation.
‘How about calling Carole to see if they’re available tomorrow night for dinner?’
‘All right.’
A pause. Then: ‘Anything else doing there?’
‘No.’ Why didn’t he hang up?
The telephone in the living-room rang again. Its distant, strident sounds caused every nerve in Janice’s body to scream in protest.
‘I’ve got to go, Bill,’ she heard herself sputter in almost a gasp. ‘The other phone is ringing.’
‘Answer it, I’ll wait,’ Bill said.
Janice put down the phone, too brusquely, and hurried up the hallway to the living-room.
By the time she got there Ivy had already answered it and was tailing off the conversation.
‘Fine, thank you,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Good-bye.’ And softly returned the phone to its cradle.
Janice’s heart pounded as she took several steps into the living-room. Her voice was surprisingly casual as she asked Ivy who had called.
‘A man,’ Ivy replied. ‘He wanted to know if I was all right’
‘Did he mention his name?’
‘No.’
‘Most likely a wrong number.’
‘Unh-unh. He called me Ivy.’
Janice was amazed at her own control as she idly commented, ‘Maybe a teacher at school. They worry about you kids, you know.’
‘Hey, I’ll bet it was Mr Soames.’ Ivy broke into laughter. ‘He’s always asking the girls how they are. He asked Bettina the other day, and she wasn’t even sick.’
Janice suddenly remembered Bill waiting on the other line.
‘Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down, dear? I’ve got your father hanging on the other phone.’
What about my milk and cookies?’
‘I’ll bring them up to you. Go now, run.’
Ivy moved towards the staircase with some reluctance.
‘Who was it?’ Bill asked.
‘One of the teachers wanting to know how Ivy is feeling,’ Janice replied without even pausing to think.
‘Oh? Which one?’
‘Mr Soames.’
Later, while Ivy was napping and Janice had a moment to collect her thoughts and calmly review each step of the ghastly situation, she wondered why she hadn’t just simply told Bill the truth. She could think of no answer beyond a vague, foolish wish to preserve the peace and tranquillity of their coming weekend. Yes, that was it - she was seeking to protect their weekend, to permit them once more, perhaps for the last time, to savour the loving motions of togetherness before the axe descended, as she knew it inevitably must.
She was buying time.
*
The cab deposited Bill on the park side of Sixty-second Street, across from Gristede’s Market. After a quick, instinctive sweep of the terrain, he jogged across the wide boulevard and entered the store.
Bill walked down the narrow aisles, filling the shiny aluminium shopping cart with cans and boxes and packets of beans, soups, kraut, bacon, hot dogs, milk, various kinds of breads and rolls, peanuts, chips, spreads, packaged cakes, ice cream, a veritable storehouse of provisions.
At the greens counter he selected three heads of iceberg lettuce and six bright-red hothouse tomatoes which he was shocked to find selling for a dollar five a pound.
Rounding the aisle of the meat counter,
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