The back of my throat tightened. So much for my being “positively radiant.” I picked up the milk to pour on my porridge.
Anna sucked her breath through her teeth, and I halted with the bowl in midair.
“If you don’t mind my saying, ma’am, that’s not the best way of going about that. Pouring the milk all over it,” she tutted. “It’s just not right.”
“Don’t you have something else?” Ellis said testily. “Ham? Eggs? A steak? My wife is poorly. She needs protein.”
Anna drew her shoulders back. “We do not, Mr. Pennypacker. Those particular items are rationed, and we weren’t expecting guests. And for your information, milk and sugar are rationed as well—I only brought them out because I thought Mrs. Pennypacker could use a little perking up, what with her motion sickness and all.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Fine. Never mind,” said Ellis, pulling the logbook toward him. When she didn’t leave, he threw her an irritated glance and flicked the backs of his fingers toward her. “I said that’s all.”
She folded her arms and glowered at him. “No, you did not. You said ‘Never mind.’ And I don’t suppose you’ve given your ration books to Angus.”
“No,” said Ellis, without looking at her.
“Oh, aye,” she replied on an intake of breath. “Well, I can’t do any better for you until you do, and I’ll have you know it’s a criminal offense to waste food, so get that down you or I’ll be forced to call the warden.” She lifted her chin and sailed around the bar and through to the back.
Ellis looked agog at Hank. Then he broke into giggles.
“I told you she wasn’t all there,” he said.
Hank nodded. “She does seem a few sandwiches short.”
“You needn’t have been so rude,” I said. “She’s very nice, and she was about to show me, if you hadn’t interrupted.”
Ellis looked stunned. “Show you what? How to eat porridge? It’s porridge. You eat it.”
“Oh, never mind,” I said.
Ellis stared at me. “Shall I call her back?”
“No. I’m fine,” I said. “But perhaps you can explain why, exactly, she thinks I’m my mother?”
Ellis laughed, and Hank nearly spat tea out of his nose.
“You’re not your mother—thank God,” said Ellis, after they’d collected themselves. “But I did sign us in using your maiden name.”
“And why is that?”
“My father wasn’t terrifically popular around here after the Daily Mail fiasco. But don’t worry. When we find the monster, we’ll come clean.” He held his hands up and framed an imaginary headline: “Son of Colonel Whitney Hyde Catches Loch Ness Monster; Hailed as Hero.”
“Say, Hero, think we can get back to work?” said Hank, stuffing his napkin under the edge of his plate. He circled an area on the map with his finger. “Since this area is the epicenter of the sightings, I think we should start at Temple Pier, then either walk or row to the…”
As Hank prattled on, I considered the two bowls in front of me. If you didn’t put the milk in the porridge, surely you didn’t put the porridge in the milk? I dipped my spoon in the porridge, looked at the bowl of milk, felt stupid, and gave up.
I put one of the sugar cubes on my teaspoon and lowered it slowly into the cup, watching the brown seep upward, evenly, irrevocably.
Chapter Nine
Hank and Ellis seemed almost relieved when I told them I wasn’t going to join them. I would have been offended if I didn’t know I couldn’t walk straight.
They gathered their things and left in a whirlwind of activity. I hadn’t seen Ellis this energized since the summer I’d met him. At the last second, Hank leaned over the table, grabbed his porridge, and gamely chomped it down. Then he ate Ellis’s as well, saying he wasn’t keen on “being frog-marched to the clink, at least not over a slab of drawer porridge.” Ellis kissed my cheek and implored me to eat my own porridge in whatever fashion I saw fit, and to make sure the staff looked after me. And then they were gone.
I had planned on asking Anna to draw me a bath, but after threatening to call the warden she never returned. I began to think she’d left the building.
I found my way up the stairs, grasping the rail and stopping several times. At one point I thought I was going to fall backward, and sat on the step until it passed.
There was a black line painted around the inside of the bathtub, about five inches up, which I assumed was a guide to how deep the water should be, but no matter what the temperature of the water, there wouldn’t be enough to warm a person up. I decided it was a suggestion rather than a rule, put in the rubber plug, and turned the taps on full. I left them running while I went to my room.
When I returned and tried to step into the bath, I discovered that the water coming out of both faucets was icy.
By the time I got my clothes back on and rushed down to the grate, my teeth were chattering.
The fire gave off a fearsome heat, and I couldn’t seem to find the right distance from it—too close, and my shins and cheeks stung, too far and I got chilled through. At one point, my toes were burning and my heels were freezing all at the same time. I was cold, dizzy, queasy, and filthy. It was hard to imagine being more miserable.
There was a newspaper on the low table, but when I tried to read, the words swam on the page. I gave up almost immediately, left it open on my lap, and gazed into the fire. Its movement masked that of my eyes, and was the most helpful thing yet in making me feel steady.
The chimney stones were charred, and the fire, part coal and part mysterious other, hissed and cracked and occasionally let off an unlikely whistle. As I watched, a glowing red ember shot out, landed on the carpet, and immediately turned black. A pair of brown utility shoes, thick wool socks, and reddened shins appeared right where it had landed.
Anna was standing beside me, holding a plate and a steaming cup. She put them on the table in front of me.
“I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t eat your porridge, probably on account of not knowing how.” She glanced behind her and added, “I slipped a wee dram into the tea. I thought it might help, as I also couldn’t help but notice that you’re still a bit wobbly.”
The plate held a coddled egg and a few slices of golden fried potato. Moments before, my stomach had been doing flips, but I was suddenly ravenous.
“But I thought eggs were rationed?” I said, glancing up.
“Aye, and butter, too, but we’ve hens and a cow at the croft. I nipped back and told Mhàthair—that’s my mother—that you were feeling poorly, and she said to give you this. She’s also the midwife, so she knows such things. She says you’re to start with the tea.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind. Please send her my regards.”
Anna lingered, and then said, “Is it really the monster your husband is after? My cousin Donald’s seen it, you know.”
I looked up. “He has?”
“Aye, and his parents, too,” she said, nodding gravely. “My Aunt Aldie and Uncle John were driving home from Inverness when they thought they saw a bunch of ducks fighting in the water near Abriachan, but when they got closer they realized it was an animal—a black beast the size of a whale—rolling, and plunging, and generally causing a right stramash.” She illustrated with her hands.
“What happened then?”
“Nothing,” she said simply. “It swam off.”
“And your cousin?”
She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. He was a fisherman. Something happened one day when he was out on the loch, and he hasn’t set foot on a boat since. And neither will he discuss it.”
“What about your aunt? Do you think your aunt will discuss it?”
“I should think she’d blather your ear off, given the opportunity. Why don’t you invite her for a strupag? And Mrs. Pennypacker? You were on the right track. You put the porridge on the spoon and then you dip the spoon in the milk. It keeps the porridge hot.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t eat it,” I said. “Is it really a criminal offense to waste food?”
“Aye, several years since. But don’t worry, the milk will go into the soup, and your porridge went into the drawer. Conall was that pleased to lick the bowl he wagged his tail. Do you think you’ll be needing anything else? Only I need to get back to the croft. You might not think there’s much to do in January, but you’d be wrong. There’s clearing stones, cutting turnip for the sheep, the milking, oh, it goes on and on…” She stared into the distance and sighed.
“There’s just one thing,” I said. “I’d love to have a bath, but there’s no hot water.”
“There will be in about twenty minutes. I heard you banging around up there, so I lit the boiler. I’ll take up some Lux flakes as well. You’re only supposed to run the bath up to the line, but I think maybe this once you might run it deeper.”
I couldn’t take offense—she’d seen me moments after I’d quite literally fallen out of bed.
“I’m off then. Meg will be back from the sawmill around four. Now get that down you,” she said, nodding authoritatively. “I’ve seen bigger kneecaps on a sparrow, and if Mhàthair hears you didn’t finish up that tea, it’s the castor oil she’ll be sending next.”