When We Lost Our Heads

But perhaps her intuition was wrong. Perhaps Sadie is different now, she thought. And she’ll forgive me.

Mrs. Arnett had convinced herself she was a good person. She had acted in a way that would make everybody think of her as a good person. But Sadie thought differently of her. Sadie was the only person in the world who would look at her and say, J’accuse. She had a horrible feeling she was waiting for her final judgment. She saw Sadie in her cloak before anyone else did, looking very much like the Grim Reaper himself.

Mrs. Arnett was quite shocked when she realized her daughter was wearing the same cloak she had left in nine years before. When she had left, the cloak surrounded her completely, like a large blanket she disappeared under. Now it fit her perfectly. If it were not so hideous, she would have said the cloak had been made for her. But how shoddy and unladylike it was! Yet how could she complain about it when it was she who had given Sadie this cloak? And she had been wearing it every day for the past nine years?

She did not want to feel that she had visited this kind of shame on her daughter. She needed to remain the victim in this situation. She needed to remind herself that Sadie had visited shame on her and not the other way around.

Mrs. Arnett pulled herself up and looked her daughter in the face. Sadie appeared so different, and yet her expression was the same as it had been since she was three years old: one of condescension.

“How was your trip?”

“Awful, naturally.”

Mrs. Arnett was a bit startled at Sadie’s new accent. It was a mild one. It had the effect of not so much making her sound British as making her sound pompous and disdainful. Mrs. Arnett hated that she was intimidated by her.



* * *





When they arrived back at the house, Sadie went up to her old room. She was wondering if she would remember where her bedroom was, but she had no trouble finding it. Her mother followed in after her.

“Do you need some help with your clothes?” Mrs. Arnett asked.

“What clothes?” Sadie asked.

She took off her cloak and tossed it on the chair. Underneath she was wearing a genteel but shabby brown-and-gold-striped dress. It had been worn too many times. It hadn’t occurred to Mrs. Arnett that Sadie had gone without so many things. Sadie could have written and asked for clothes. Either she or the Antoines would have sent her some. Or at least she believed she would have sent her some.

“Do you not like my attire? It seems to be making you uncomfortable. I was given castoffs from the other girls. There were some girls there from wealthy families, actual wealthy families, I mean, who enjoyed doing charitable deeds.”

“You could have written for some clothes.”

“Could I have? I thought it was made quite clear you wanted nothing to do with me when we parted. And should I have written for Christmas presents or a card on my birthday or on Valentine’s Day? How silly! All I had to do was ask!”

“Well, that is behind us now. I think we must get you fitted for something quite elegant.”

“Must we? But why? I’m not fit for society, being a murderess and all.”

“That was a long time ago. I think everyone will be able to move past that. You’re a grown woman. You were at a prestigious school all these years. I’m sure many of the girls here would appreciate having a peek at what a European education can do.” Mrs. Arnett was trying to convince herself.

Sadie sat on an armchair next to a small table on which tea had been laid. She leaned back and crossed her legs in a pose she had to know was distractingly unladylike. She reached into the sugar bowl with her fingers instead of the tongs. She plopped no fewer than five sugar cubes into her tea. And then placed one on her tongue.

“Do what you must,” Sadie said. “I could actually use a new dress simply for practical purposes. This one is too small. It was given to me two years ago and my chest has grown since then.” She began to bend her arms every which way, stretching from the trip.

“The family fortunes have risen,” Mrs. Arnett said. “We have three maids now. You’ll have to look the part. Philip is doing extraordinarily well. Because of his background, your father still had an uphill battle that prevented him from reaching the goals he was capable of. But Philip will be able to have financial support and connections to make him a certain choice for premier and then prime minister. This house did wonders for your father. But Philip is going to have an even bigger one.”

“Why is that? Where is Philip getting his sudden fortune from?”

“He is to marry Marie Antoine. We would like your help in that department.”

Sadie burst into laughter. Mrs. Arnett looked infuriated and frustrated with her daughter. She abruptly left the room.

How ridiculous it was, Sadie thought, that they were trying to give Marie away to her asinine brother, Philip. Having been abroad so long had made her an outsider. And she could see the social machinations of her return so clearly, it was as though she was watching a poorly written, amateurish play. Her pull over Marie was being exploited so that it could advance the careers of her brother and her father. That was why she was here. They were using her as a pimp in a way. Once again. But this time, she would have none of it.



* * *





A few minutes after Mrs. Arnett left the room, Sadie heard the sound of thunder in the house. What in the world could that be other than a man storming up the stairs? She knew he was coming to put her in her place. Philip threw open the door. An oval painting of a woman fell from the wall as though she had fainted.

She was surprised at their physical resemblance. It was not the sort of thing you noticed as a child. But his face was so alien to her now, she noticed the shared features immediately. They stood in front of each other, two people who had come out of the same womb. And they couldn’t really stand this fact. They could see right through the other, and neither was at all impressed.

“You’ve made our mother cry.”

“Your mother. And I don’t care.”

“Are you seriously going to mess this up for everyone again?”

“How could I possibly do that?”

“You are going to be nice to Marie.”

“Never.”

His hand was around her neck before she knew what was going on.

“If you don’t make Marie feel like joining this family, I will make sure you end up in a nuthouse.”

“I cannot make Marie like you.”

“We’ve already walked around the whole neighborhood for everyone to see.”

Sadie was appalled. She had had so high an opinion of Marie all these years, but for what? She had grown up to be a fool. She had imagined her thriving and seeing the world and knowing everything about business and science. But no! God, no! She was engaged to her idiotic brother.

When Philip left the room, Sadie vowed to herself to make every effort to avoid the contemptuous Marie, whom she now fully blamed for denouncing her as a child. To hell with her, Sadie thought. If Marie was going to wed her brother, and bring her here to witness it, she would hold a marvelous grudge.



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