“We can’t cross the Atlantic during the war—”
“We’ll be perfectly safe. We’re going to the Highlands. That’s where they sent the evacuated children from the cities, for God’s sake.”
I turned to Ellis. He’d abandoned the ice, and was now pushing the ashtray back and forth.
“Darling, say something,” I pleaded.
“Don’t we need papers, or something?” he asked.
“Arranged for them too,” Hank said brightly. “And a sixteen-millimeter Cine-Kodak movie camera. After we get our footage of the monster, we’ll send the reel directly to Eastman Kodak and have them develop it. Voilà—would-be naysayers won’t have a nay to say. We’ll make history. We’ll be famous.”
After a moment of silent stammering, I managed to ask, “And what does Violet think about this?”
Violet was nothing if not sensible. She didn’t even approve when we pulled entirely harmless pranks, like hiding someone’s yacht in the wrong slip, or turning the racquet club’s pool water purple. She’d sent an apology after we had General Pew’s sailboat moved around to the back of his house, even though she wasn’t there when the crime was committed.
“No idea. She’s off doing something or other,” said Hank. “Rolling bandages or the like.”
“You haven’t told her,” I said in disbelief.
“Not yet,” said Hank, sipping his drink. “I figured one day of misery was preferable to three.”
“She’ll never agree to it.”
“I don’t expect her to.”
“Hank, she’s expecting you to propose. You can’t just abandon her.”
“I will propose, just as soon as we get back. Frankly, I’m getting a little worried that she’s rubbing off on you. I was hoping it would work the other way around.”
“Hank’s right,” said Ellis, still pushing the ashtray around. “You used to like adventures.”
“I do like adventures, but sailing into the war is hardly an adventure!”
“Then think of it as a scientific excursion,” Hank said calmly. “Honestly, Maddie. We’ll be perfectly safe. You can’t imagine I would even suggest it if I weren’t completely sure of that, and Freddie certainly wouldn’t have arranged it.”
“Freddie?” I said with growing despair. “What’s Freddie got to do with this?”
“He’s the one who made the arrangements, of course.”
While I was trying to wrap my head around Freddie’s involvement in all this, Hank looked deep into my eyes.
“Maddie, darling girl. This is my last hurrah, my final bit of craziness before donning the ball and chain. And since my particular ball and chain seems intent on civilizing me, surely you wouldn’t deny me this one final caper?”
“Why don’t we come up with something that won’t get us blown to pieces? And who’s to say that I won’t rub off on Violet after all? When the war ends, we’ll force her to come with us. I’ll buy a pair of hip waders and bag the monster myself—heck, I’ll buy a pair for Violet and drag her kicking and screaming into the loch with me. Won’t that be a sight?”
Hank leaned forward and pressed two fingers against my lips.
“Shhh,” he said. “We have to do this. It’s for Ellis.”
Ellis looked suddenly up. The fire was back in his eyes. “Let’s do it. Let’s fucking do it. It fixes everything.”
“What? What does it fix?” I asked.
“Everything,” he repeated.
I could see there was no arguing with him—at least not there, and certainly not in front of Hank.
“I’ll have one of those cigarettes,” I said, bobbing my foot under the table and glaring at the rows of glittering bottles behind the bar.
In a flash, Hank had the case open and extended. I let him hold it there for a few seconds longer than was comfortable, then grabbed one.
Hank leaned forward, completely cool, and flicked his lighter, a sterling silver Dunhill with a clock on its side. I sucked a few times, enough to get the thing lit, then pushed my chair back and marched toward the bank of elevators, letting my heels clack noisily on the marble. I ditched the cigarette in the first available ashtray because I hated cigarettes, which both Hank and Ellis knew. Asking for one was a statement. Ellis was supposed to follow me back to our suite. Instead, he stayed in the lobby bar with Hank.
—
I paced the room, trying to persuade myself that this was a joke, that Hank was just pulling our legs, but every instinct told me otherwise. He’d worked out too many details, and if it was a prank, he wouldn’t have let it go on after he saw Ellis’s reaction—unless they were in on it together, but that seemed even less plausible. They hadn’t had a moment alone to plan.
I just wanted everything to go back to normal, but the only way that could happen would be if we found a solution that let both the Colonel and Ellis emerge with their dignities intact. Collective amnesia would have been an option if the accusations had been limited to the drawing room, where the only witness was the canary, but they hadn’t. The Colonel had been disgraced in public.
The part that frightened me most, that made me think Hank really had made solid plans, was his mention of Freddie. If anyone could manage such arrangements, it was Freddie Stillman, whose father was an admiral, but it was beyond me why he’d lift a finger to help. The four of us had been close friends, a quartet instead of a trio, during one blissful summer in Bar Harbor, Maine, until I rejected his completely unexpected proposal, and probably not as sensitively as I should have. Ten days later, I eloped with Ellis, and we hadn’t exchanged a word since. That was four and a half years ago.
I was surprised that Hank was still in touch with him, especially since it was rumored that Freddie had set his sights on Violet before Hank rolled through and swept her off her feet.