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Although Kate was distressed about the fire and Hawthorne’s ordeal, she was far more distressed that someone had thought it necessary to put the news stories in her mailbox. The stories didn’t discredit Hawthorne but they formed a slur, a black mark that could affect his co
At the meeting the previous afternoon, there had been several more faculty members than on Tuesday but a number made it clear they were there under duress. Chip hadn’t come and Clifford Evings had fallen asleep. Fritz Skander had forgotten to bring certain files. Roger Be
Kate drove home along Antelope Road. It was almost dark and her headlights caught the flash of orange from the turning leaves of the maples. She picked Todd up at Shirley Hodges’s, then took him home to make di
In the end, Kate almost didn’t go. She knew it might be unpleasant, and there was no one she cared to talk to except perhaps for Hawthorne himself. But that very consideration led her to make the effort—not that she was so eager to talk to Hawthorne, but she felt hopeful about his arrival at Bishop’s Hill. And because she was sure that hers was the minority point of view, she wanted to go to Skander’s to express it. Consequently, when the baby-sitter arrived at seven-forty-five, she kissed Todd good night, reminded him to brush his teeth, and drove off into the dark.
Skander greeted Kate at the door and took her coat. He wore a bright red cardigan with gold buttons. “Punctuality,” he said as he beamed at her, “is a wonderful gift.” Then, before she could respond, he went on, “Did you receive those news clippings in your box? I’m afraid everybody did. I can’t imagine who would have done such a thing. Everybody’s talking about it. Jim will be terribly upset. He’s quite shy, you know. We’ll have to look out for him.”
Skander lived with his wife and ten-year-old son at the far end of the Bishop’s Hill campus, beyond the six dormitory cottages, in one of the five brown-shingled houses reserved for faculty. Some guests had arrived already but not Hawthorne. Chip Campbell was talking to Roger Be
Betty Sherman wore a dark blue skirt and a colorful peasant blouse. She looked distressed as she listened to Harriet Be
Observing Chip and Roger Be
Hilda was like a smaller version of her husband, shapeless and bustling, but her face was pointier. She wore a denim jumper that nearly reached her ankles and had short graying hair. She said something to Bill Dolittle and they both returned to the kitchen.
Kate thought again how these people had been living in close proximity to one another for years. Although not a family, they were familylike. They shared a history. In fact, there were not many friendships among them and they often complained and gossiped about one another. But their joint interest in Bishop’s Hill kept them from drifting too far apart. Kate had wondered, with a fear approaching dread, if she would become like them, and the thought made her determined to put a time limit on her position at the school. As long as George stayed difficult, however, it was doubtful that she could move from the area. In eleven years Todd would be eighteen and ready to go to college. But Kate swore she’d rather cut off her left foot than remain at Bishop’s Hill for that length of time.
The doorbell rang and Skander bustled over to answer it. Kate joined Chip and Roger at the fireplace. It was a cozy living room with colonial-style furniture and horse-and-buggy patterns on the wallpaper. The air smelled of wood smoke and ci
“So what do you think of our new headmaster,” Chip asked her, “pursuing the fleshpots as his wife and daughter burned?”
Kate found herself stiffening. “I don’t believe that’s actually what happened.”
Be
“Why shouldn’t he be away from the school for an evening? Anyway, perhaps it was entirely business,” said Kate.
“She was too pretty for business,” said Chip.
Be
Chip had his bottle of Budweiser raised to his lips and he arched his eyebrows. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he said, “Fritz suggested that he might write a book about us.”
“Oh my. Harriet will be pleased. So that’s why he came here?”
“It’s about the only thing that makes sense unless he’s doing the dirty with that little ex-stripper.”