The Trouble with Polly Brown (87 page)

“Polly, I'm very glad for you, for it all sounds very wonderful,” James said with a caring smile.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I would so love for you to come along with us, and I would also love for you to meet dear, sweet Lucy, for she has become such a close friend to me. Imagine what fun we would all have if you were able to join us,” she cried.

“That's really nice, Polly,” James croaked. “You go and have a good time for both of us, and remember to bring me back a whopping big stick of pink sugary rock,” he said as he tried to laugh.

Lady Butterkist was greatly troubled to see that he then stopped as he clutched his chest. All sudden movement, laughter included, seemed still much too painful for him to bear.

“James, I'll not only bring you the biggest stick of rock candy that I can find, but I'll also send you a dozen or more postcards too,” she said brightly as she continued to clutch his small hand ever so tightly.

“By the way, have you any new model planes for me to admire?”

James once more tilted his head down and seemed a bit distracted and therefore most reluctant to answer her.

“Come on, James. It's not too difficult a question to answer, is it?”

“No, Polly, sadly I haven't,” he quietly admitted.

“Well, have you had the others returned?” she brazenly dared to ask as she quickly made a mental note of the fact that his bedside locker was completely bare.

“Uh, hmm…well, not yet.”

“What do you mean by ‘not yet'? Remember I have been gone nearly a whole two years!” she cried.

James hesitated before answering. “Well, I think Uncle Boritz has had a lot of trouble remembering just where he hid them,” James feebly mumbled.

“Nonsense! That's just another one of his very lame and mean excuses,” Polly lashed out. “It's just not right.”

“Polly, please try hard not to upset James or your good self. Try to keep things on a more positive note. There's a dear,” Mildred, who was hovering nearby listening in, curtly interrupted.

However, Polly wasn't in any mind to listen.

“Anyway, if you don't mind me asking, how on earth did you manage to catch pneumonia?” Polly dared to ask.

James once more dropped his head as if to say that due to present company, he was unable to give specifics.

This seemingly insignificant event did not go unnoticed by Lady Butterkist.

An anxious Mildred quickly moved forward, as she was quite unprepared for Polly to continue on in this unacceptable vein by alluding to certain unwarranted and therefore outrageous questions. She was therefore very glad as well as relieved by her decision to remain present while they had their first conversation since Polly left for the hospital some two years previous.

“Give Polly an inch, and she takes a jolly mile,” she muttered through clenched teeth before determining to take back control—and quickly!

“OK, Polly dear. You are asking the poor boy far too many questions, and as far as I know, James is not on trial, nor will he be in the foreseeable future!” she said as she tried hard to turn it into something of a joke. “So I think you've overstayed your welcome, for as you can certainly see, your younger brother is very tired and needs his rest if he is to have any hope of making a full and speedy recovery. So Polly, be a dear and quickly say your good-byes.”

She therefore reluctantly leaned over the bed to give James one final, prolonged sisterly hug.

“I'm so sorry that I never came to see you, but I had no way of getting to the hospital, and I was forbidden to even write you a letter. Please forgive me, for I promise that not a day has gone by without me missing you so terribly,” he whispered.

“James, I truly understand, and so I forgive you everything. But listen to me: I also promise we will get to the bottom of what's happened to your models. Trust me when I say I am not going to let this one go without a fight,” she whispered in his ear as she gave his hand one final squeeze.

Aunt Mildred had no time to react to Polly's dubious warning before Polly then brazenly turned to face her.

“Aunt Mildred, I hope you don't mind me asking, but when is James going to get anything to eat for tea? I'm sure he must be very hungry by now,” she bravely asked.

Mildred was once more taken back by her outspokenness.

“Well, there are plenty of leftovers from the tea party that can be put on a tray and brought up to James. But don't worry your pretty little head over it, for I will see to it later when everyone has left to go on their way,” she stuttered.

“Well, I'm really sorry to say this, as I have no wish to offend you, but I do not want to leave here until I know that James has eaten something,” she stated in her very outspoken manner, folding her arms at the same time as if to convey that she really meant business.

“Well, quite frankly, I don't think you of all people should be speaking to me in that disgracefully high-minded tone of voice,” a very unhappy Mildred sharply rebuked. “Didn't your stay at the hospital teach you anything?”

“Come, Mildred dear, I thought—”

“Lady Butterkist, ‘I thought' simply doesn't work for me, no, not in this castle anyway,” she abruptly stated, smarting at the thought of yet again being forced to bow the knee to this thoroughly obnoxious lady. “It would pay you great dividends to keep all your thoughts—kind or otherwise—exclusively to yourself,” she quickly and harshly rebuked, for she felt angry that the old bat was once again overstepping the mark by interfering where she was neither welcome nor invited.

Sadly for Mildred, her harsh words fell on deaf ears and therefore did not deter Lady Butterkist from continuing on with her helpful suggestions.

“I'm sorry, Mildred, but I still need to point out that Polly was not intentionally meaning to be rude, for surely it is quite understandable that she is most anxious to see her younger brother once more fit and healthy. So, why don't we give them a further few precious moments alone while you and I go and prepare a little platter of goodies for him. And may I remind you that there is still plenty of my apple pie just crying out to be gobbled up, so what if we were to head down to the kitchen to quickly rustle up a couple of boiled eggs with toasted fingers or a couple of cheese-and-ham toasties. This will only take us a matter of minutes. If we then add a nice cup of warm milk and some of my rather scrumptious apple pie, we will then have a substantial feast fit for any young prince on the mend. So come on, let us leave together and go to the kitchen to get things sorted,” she suggested.

“Very well then,” Mildred rather begrudgingly replied.

“All right then, Mildred dear. You lead the way.”

Mildred could only subserviently nod her head in apparent agreement. But if the truth be known, she was now absolutely seething with rage. However, she knew better than to let the full extent of her anger show, so she was forced to keep all remaining ill feeling safely tucked away from view. She still managed to march way ahead of Lady Butter-kist, smarting with humiliation at the way she perceived Polly had so deliberately and willfully undermined her. In fact, come to think of it, she had been feeling very disturbed and threatened from the outstart. Yes, if she were to be honest and reflect back, things had felt mighty peculiar from the very moment this strange lady had cared to set foot on the property. She also began to seriously wonder just how much more she could take of this outspoken and very dominating battle-axe before she finally exploded and gave her a large piece of her mind.

In no time at all a tray with comforting food was on its merry way up to James. As they climbed the stairs together, Lady Butterkist broke the uncomfortably awkward silence, and so she gave Mildred a warm and friendly tap on her arm.

“There, Mildred, between the two of us I do believe we have put together such a splendid tea that James will be back on his feet before we can say, ‘Jack Robinson.'”

“Yes, I'm sure you're absolutely right,” Mildred wearily agreed. “Also, Lady Butterkist, as soon as we have dispensed with this tray of food, I think it would be right and proper if we insist Polly says a quick good-bye, and then we must quickly head back to the sitting room, for your guests have been holed up now for some considerable time, and Boritz does get more than a little carried away with all his stories and rhetoric.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, very much so, for please understand, what with dear Boritz being a lawyer, he naturally has a real gift of the gab. I would imagine that by now your guests might well be chomping at the bit as they implore someone, if not anyone, to release them before they go away feeling most depleted, if not utterly drained.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yes, he is an eminent lawyer who spends his life championing the causes of the underprivileged and victimized. I have to say his beating around the bush is quite clearly an asset in court, for by the time he has expounded the case on behalf of his client, I have it on good authority that many a judge is ready to put a gun to his head. Such is their sheer desperation for a speedy end to the trial.”

“Oh, deary me!”

“Sad to say, he has no idea whatsoever as to when to take a break or end a conversation for that matter,” she adamantly stated, for it was now very much in her vested interest to confide such things, the underlying reason being that she sorely wanted them off her property, and sooner rather than later.

“Oh, yes. Of course, Mildred. If this surely is the case, then we would do well to hurry along and rescue the rest of our party, who not only must be bored to tears by now but praying desperately for the Fifth Cavalry to arrive.”

“Yes, dear lady. It would be most advisable to hurry along.”

“James, sadly I have to leave, but promise me you'll stay in bed until you feel a whole heap better,” Polly said as she reached over to give him a final sisterly kiss on the forehead.

“Yes, but only if you promise to write, and soon,” he quickly retorted as he gave her hand a tight squeeze. “Please hurry back. I miss you so very much,” he quickly added as he watched her walk across the room, heading for the door.

Mildred then, quite forgetting herself, marched down the long corridor well ahead of Polly and Lady Butterkist in a manner more befitting a military general being summoned to his war cabinet for a crisis meeting. As she approached the closed sitting room door, she faltered just long enough to take a long, deep breath. This done, she abruptly opened the door and loudly announced that they were back.

“Boritz, it is high time we released these good people and let them be on their way,” Mildred cheerfully stated.

“Absolutely, Mildred dearest. We were just about to round things up here anyway, so as usual, your timing is impeccable.”

“Giles, please, will you go ahead of us all and take Tiddles out to the car, for she must be allowed to spend a penny before we leave,” Lady Butterkist asked.

“Very well, madam.”

“Oh, and Mildred, I cannot thank you enough for your gracious hospitality. I do believe that I am forever indebted to you,” Lady Butterkist sweetly stated. “If I had more time, I would like to stay and discuss giving your orphanage my utmost support, in financial terms, that is. Sad to say, the hour is desperately late, and we must depart as soon as possible. I would therefore like to suggest that on our return I will allow enough time to address your ongoing needs before I take out my checkbook in order to make a handsome donation.”

Boritz's heart leapt for joy within his breast as he gloried in her kind and very charitable offer. He then sat motionless for a moment as he went on to envision her writing many naughts after the comma.
Will it be fifty thousand pounds? Will it be one hundred and fifty thousand pounds? Perhaps even more besides
, he happily pondered. He waited a moment until his churning bowels had the decency to calm down, and then he arose from the comfort of his chair and walked toward her to gently shake or maybe even kiss her gloved hand in his obsequious but gentlemanly manner.