The week went by quickly, and I was finally able to have a moment to spare for myself and the things I wanted to do. Over the course of six months, I had matured physically, but I liked to believe that also my erratic ditsy nature was somewhat dimming. With that thought in mind, I opened the bedroom door. I was an early bird, always awake before everyone else did. I brushed elbows with yet another dishevelled woman stepping out of Mason's bedroom. I was already accustomed to his amorous escapades, nothing shocked me.
I didn't bother to say anything to them, and they pretended that they didn't see me each time we locked eyes.
I pushed the door to the library, it had become one of my favourite places in the house. The large selection of rare books, covering different topics where my favourite escape. I spent a lot of my time daydreaming, or better yet imagining what other people put in words in their books. But today wasn't the day to do any of that. That day I had decided to take Mason's advice and read on the books on good manners. It seemed that I had none, and I was behaving unladylike. Mason's words, not mine.
I rolled my eyes and pulled out the first book I found, I had been written eighty years before I was even born. I figured, if I'm going to get to the bottom of what I did wrong might as well start at the bottom. After glancing through the book for more than an hour, I slowly began to understand what he was trying to say. Most of the time, I was all arms and legs whenever I sat down, and whenever I opened my mouth things that according to the book, inappropriate things came out of my mouth.
I slammed the book shut and puffed my cheeks. I wasn't of high standing, no one cared how I behaved. Why did it bother him so much what I said and how I said it?
I glanced at the clock in the library, it showed almost six o'clock. I knew Mason left early, each morning and with me being cooked up in the library I probably missed him. I wasn't trying to avoid him, but I wasn't looking forward to seeing him either. I was a bundle of nerves whenever I was around him, self-conscious of everything I did and said.
Reluctantly, I tucked the book under my arm and stepped out of the library and made my way towards the kitchen. I was hungry.
When I stepped in, Enid, as usual, was laying the table and to my surprise, Mason was still at home. I closed my eyes and gripped the book tighter.
" Good morning, Mr Kinnaird. Enid " I greeted as politely as I could wearing a tactful smile. I had no idea how long it would take for my ditziness to shine through, but it was worth a try.
" Good morning, dear. I see you slept in today, " Enid turned around and placed an empty plate before me.
" Good morning, Miss Abernathy " Mason raised his eyes from the newspaper and glanced at me. It was a nice summer day but all of a sudden I felt like was trekking through the North Pole.
" Today is the first day of your summer holiday. Do you have any plans?" Mason asked, folding the paper and placing it on the table. That was a sign that I had his full attention. And no, I had no plans.
" I intend on visiting the gallery in town. There is a new artist on display." For the first time, I sat in my chair, properly. Back straight hands in my lap not spread all over the table, feet tucked to the side. I was uncomfortable, but it saved me from getting scolded. I figured it was worth it.
" Sounds very interesting. May I join you?" Mason caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting that, shit. I knew about the artist from the local newspaper, and that was all I knew.
" Of course," I tactfully smiled, trying to hide my nervousness. I had no clue what Mason would do if I got caught in a lie. I was walking on thin ice as it was.
" I just need to check at what time the gallery opens. I would like to get there before lunch." I paltered like a fool. I was losing it over the thought of getting caught in a lie.
" Very well," Mason nodded and took another sip of his coffee. At least I had enough common sense to save the paper that I had seen the announcement in. I miraculously pushed the chair without making too much noise, with Mason's eyes on me. Did he know I was lying? Even if I did. It was a white lie.
With trembling hands, I dialled the gallery number from the house phone in the hallway. A lady with a very squeaky voice answered.
" Good morning. I would like to know when the gallery opens?" I asked fidgeting with a telephone cord, a bundle of nerves. I was on the verge of crying.
" At 9:00 " The lady squeaked from the other end " But unfortunately it is a viewing that requires you to prebook." At her words, my knees buckled. I had no idea why, but they did.
" I see. Do you have anything later ?" I nervously asked on the verge of a meltdown.
" No dear. This a very up-and-coming artist. He is gaining traction quickly. Unfortunately, we are prebooked for the rest of the week. There are a few slots available next week." The woman added and I felt the will to live, leave me.
" What do you want to do, dear?" The woman's squeaky voice jolted me out of my commiserations.
" I'll have to get back to you later in the day." I sort of mumbled, trying to figure out how am I going to get out of this. Mason wouldn't let it slide. He will make sure I won't live this down.
" As you wish, dear, but don't take too long to think about it." The woman finally said before the line cut off. She had hanged up on me.
I stared at the phone for a few good minutes, trying to figure out what am I going to say to Mason. He wanted to go and I wanted to go with him. Opportunities like that were rare, and I just let it slip through my fingers.