Monterra's Deliciosa & Other Tales & by Anna Tambour Read Free Book Online Page B

nod.
    Miss Cassandra could not help the briefest of smiles. "You are worried about how long she will be living with you?"
    If "Mrs. Smith" were American, she might have jumped up and hugged Miss Cassandra or yelled out, "You hit the nail right on the head."
    But being Grace Dunphy she did neither of these things, though she could not suppress the slight start to her otherwise rigid frame. "That is precisely what I am concerned about, Miss Cassandra."
    Miss Cassandra sat back in her comfortable chair, with a smile that was all chintz, flowers, and sun. "You should have no fear, Mrs. Smith. Your lovely daughter will live with you for the rest of your lives."
    ~
    That night was the first cold one. Rain lashed the last clinging leaves from the trees, and wind stuck them to the panes of the hothouse like theatre notices. Sheltered by the streaming glass walls and the friendly leafy plants, Professor and Mrs. Dunphy talked until the pallid morning light.
    Cloudmere was not a superstitious man, but then his own science had led him to believe that there are forces that are totally unexplainable. He'd toyed with religion, but found that institutionality killed the wonder which God could have had for him. This future prediction, though, made as much sense as wormholes, once Grace had gone over the evidence in her normal, logical way. His famous theories of parallel realities were now being challenged in a way that ripped him from the cosiness of his own mind's perambulations.
    Most startling was the conclusion that Grace had come to—that action must be taken, and by him.
    "What good is your physics if you can't do anything with it?" Grace asked.
    ~
    Over the next weeks, Grace and Cloudmere hardly spoke, each being so tied up in their private thoughts. Cloudmere felt guilty that he had no answers and could produce no magic of his own. And Grace felt, for the first time, an inner revolt at the oppressiveness of their daughter's presence.
    Cloudmere rang and left a message one afternoon that work would keep him late, and he would miss dinner.
    That evening, Grace sat down with Hyperica to the meal previously planned for three. Hyperica herself had been less at home, mostly gone during the day, and often gone for the evening, with no explanation. Sometimes lately, Hyperica had even missed dinner—previously an unknown event. When Grace thought about it now, she realized how she had absolutely no curiosity about how Hyperica spent her time.
    Grace watched her daughter eat and the feeling grew upon her that she simply hated the girl. Once the first bud of thought emerged, flowering was wildly luxuriant and no implement could have clipped the buds.
    Hyperica was innocent of awareness and deep into her own thoughts, as her mother gazed.
    ~
    The next day, Grace visited Miss Cassandra again. "You said my daughter would live with us for the rest of our lives ..."
    Miss Cassandra was taken aback. This woman did not seem happy at all. "Not exactly," she stalled.
    "What, then?"
    "She will live in that house forever. That's what I meant."
    Grace left her in a bit of a huff, and her next three stops were to Cambridge estate agents, inquiring about putting a house on the market.
    "We've got to move out from under her," she declared late that evening, after Cloudmere crept home. They were huddled together in the hothouse. She'd made a bowl of vanilla custard jewelled with diamonds of preserved quince, and was trying to repair their rift with this pudding and two spoons.
    Cloudmere felt disoriented. Grace had become much more forceful over the last few days.
    "I will not have her ruining our lives," she insisted.
    "But this is nonsense," he tried to sensibly remind his wife. "You want us to sell because some woman tells you she can foretell the future?"
    Grace obstinately nodded. "If she's right, it will work. And if she's wrong, maybe it will, too. Let's sell and buy a one-bedroom house."
    Cloudmere gave in, even though what he would miss, and he knew