The Body in the Cast by Katherine Hall Page Read Free Book Online Page A

Of course, how delightful to see you. So you decided to be a cook.” Having pushed Faith firmly “downstairs,” Cornelia added a hasty, “So much catching up to do. Perhaps a word tomorrow? Today is just too-too.” Her eyes conveyed the enormity of her responsibilities—responsibilities that words could not begin to describe.
    â€œWhat is your job on the film?” Faith asked. She wasn’t going to let Corny get away without learning this vital piece of information.
    â€œMax’s production assistant,” responded her old schoolmate in a tone of voice, similar, Faith later told her sister, Hope, to the one an apostle might have used to describe washing Christ’s feet or passing Him the matzos at the Last Supper.
    Faith was tempted to reply, “Oh, a gofer?” after the “cook” business, but they were grown-ups now, so she had to be satisfied with saying, “That’s terrific, Corny—oops … Cornelia. See you tomorrow, then.”
    And with that, Cornelia took her statuesque self away to minister to her master’s needs.
    Cornelia Stuyvesant had been in school with Faith since kindergarten and came from an old-money New York family, as her name implied—or rather, declared. She had always been an athletic girl and played a fierce game of tennis—also a fierce game of lacrosse, a fierce game of field hockey, and so on. She moved beautifully, with the confidence good health and a healthy portfolio supply. She had never bothered much with her appearance, still sporting, Faith noticed, the same shoulder-length brown hair cum headband of yore. Yet the tortoiseshell glasses—in the past, usually held together with a paper clip at the side—had been replaced somewhere along the line with contacts. Slim-hipped, flat-chested, tall, Cornelia was made for Armani, but she stuck resolutely to Brooks, with an occasional wild fling at Lauren.
    Of course the first thing Faith wanted to do when she got home later that afternoon was call Hope, one class behind them in school and possessing a seemingly inexhaustive memory for
detail. But what with baths, supper, quality time for Amy, Ben, and Tom, it was nine o’clock before she was able to pick up the phone to call her sister.
    Hope came through with flying colors. Faith wouldn’t have been surprised to discover her sister had a right frontal Rolodex implanted in her brain. In this instance, however, Hope’s recollections went beyond where Corny lived, family income, phone number, and what she had worn to the 1974 Winter Cotillion.
    â€œShe hated you, Faith. How could you forget that?”
    â€œDon’t you think hate is a little strong? I do remember some friendly rivalry, but hate?”
    â€œCome on! She started the Faith Sibley Hate Club in second grade and even made up membership cards, but she could only get poor, sad Susan Harvey to join—you know, ‘I’ll buy you an ice cream if you’ll be my friend’ Harvey—and when everybody sided with you, it simply made Corny madder. Then the teacher heard about it and made her apologize in front of the whole class. I don’t know how you lived to reach adulthood.”
    â€œI do remember that! Maybe I’ve just wanted to forget it all these years. But Corny seems to be in a good place now and I’m sure that’s all in the dim, dim past.”
    â€œWhat’s dim is you, sis. Corny was always the green-eyed monster personified. What about the time in ninth grade when you took her boyfriend away and she set off a stink bomb in the bathroom and told the headmaster she saw you do it.”
    â€œShe really wasn’t cut out for that type of thing—too transparent. You could always tell when she was lying. Her face would get all red.”
    The scene in the headmaster’s office flashed on a screen in front of Faith’s eyes and she blinked, protesting to Hope, “Besides, she had no