The Carpenter from Montreal by George Fetherling

Author:George Fetherling
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Linda Leith Publishing
Published: 2017-07-14T00:00:00+00:00

From the diary of Cynthia McConnell:

I’m writing this from the Caroline Apartments. Two days have gone by and I haven’t really unpacked yet; most of my things are still spread out all over. I’m lucky to have found this diary, though long dormant, because I need something to scribble in. I find it a handy medium for rage. Father called me in for one of his talks and told me how angry he was with Jim Joseph for ignoring his repeated demands to keep Pete and me apart. He really let go, telling me that I was ruining my life—and his, and Mother’s. The word “disgrace” was uttered. So was the word “gangster,” which made me laugh in his face. I said that, unlike him, I wasn’t interested in how Pete made his money, that at least he earned it instead of inheriting it, and that he and I had fun. The rough talk went back and forth, and some of my words came from all the way down in my stomach somewhere. I was franker than I meant to be, certainly franker than I should have been, and in what became a very hot argument I let him know, without actually giving away details, that I was crazy about Pete. I said I was rejecting all this criticism of him and me.

The atmosphere got so bad in that damned den that I can’t even remember how long I was there. Without using the exact words, Father finally threatened to boot me out of his will if I didn’t immediately stop “dating” Pete. That made me so mad I could barely see. My body was shaking. I said I didn’t really care a hoot about his will, but I must have sounded as though I did when I called him a blackmailer. He responded by calling me a very nasty and degrading term that no man, let alone a father, should ever utter. I yelled that I was leaving for good. Hedy overheard some of this—how could she not?—and when I ran into her on the upstairs landing I could see she was very upset. When I’d thrown in enough clothes and such to fill two suitcases and a valise I asked her to call me a cab. It was a C. & J. I guess that shouldn’t have surprised me. After all Pete and his partner still owned the company, which had become by far the biggest in town, as Pete (Pete and his love of automobiles!) had forced out or bought up nearly all the competition. I went straight to his suite.

There was no answer at his door. It was locked, but I had a key and I knew he never put the chain on. The driver had helped me up with the bags and I left them in the corridor for the moment and went looking for the one man I thought could help me to calm down and see things clearly. I passed through the anteroom, the sitting room and the dining room and finally went to the bedroom.

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