Beast in View by Margaret Millar

Author:Margaret Millar [Millar, Margaret]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

9

DOUGLAS’ DOOR WAS locked; it was the only way she had of knowing that he had come back some time during the night, perhaps because he wanted to, perhaps because he had no place else to go.

She knocked and said, “Douglas,” in a harsh heavy voice that was like a stranger’s to her. “Are you awake, Douglas?”

From inside the room there came a mumbled reply and the soft thud of feet striking carpet.

“I want to talk to you, Douglas. Get dressed and come downstairs. Right away.”

In the kitchen, the part-time maid, a spare, elderly woman named Mabel, was sitting cross-legged at the dresser ledge, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning Times. She didn’t rise when she saw Verna, who owed her back wages in civility as well as cash.

“There’s muffins in the oven. Yesterday’s. Heated up. You want your orange-juice now?”

“I’ll get it myself.”

“I made a grocery list. We’re out of eggs and coffee again. I need a drop of coffee now and then to steady myself and there’s barely a cup left in the pot.”

“All right, go and buy some. You might as well do the rest of the shopping while you’re at it. We need some 100-watt bulbs and paper towels, and you’d better check the potato bin.”

“You want I should do it now, before I have a bite to eat?”

“Our understanding was that you were to eat before you come here.”

“We had other understandings too.”

“You’ll be paid this week. I expect a check in the mail today.”

When the maid had gone, Verna took the muffins out of the oven and tested one. It was rubbery, and the blueberries inside were like squashed purple flies.

She added water to the coffee and reheated it, and then she poured some orange-juice out of a pitcher in the refrigerator. It smelled stale. The whole refrigerator smelled stale, as if Mabel had tucked odds and ends of food into forgotten corners.

Hearing the wheeze and rattle of Mabel’s ancient Dodge as it moved down the driveway, Verna thought, I’ll have to let her go, as soon as I can pay her. How awkward it is to have to keep her on because I can’t afford to fire her.

Douglas came in as she was pouring herself a cup of coffee. He hadn’t dressed, as she’d asked him to. He was wearing the terrycloth robe and beaded moccasins he’d had on the previous night before Blackshear’s visit. He looked haggard. The circles under his eyes were like bruises, and from his left temple to the corner of his mouth there ran three parallel scratches. He tried to hide the scratches with his hand, but the attempt only drew attention to them.

“What happened to your cheek?”

“I was petting a cat.”

He sat down beside her, on her left, so that she would only see the uninjured side of his face. Their arms touched and the physical contact jabbed Verna like a needle. She got up, feeling a little faint, and walked over to the stove.

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