Storm of Bells

14. Ploys and Plans

Please let him be all right again. Please let him be all right again!

That was all that filled my mind when I went to work next morning. I had heard of cases where, after the marriage, a woman suddenly found that her husband had been putting up a front all the time, and only now was revealing his true, sinister self. There were some truly horrible tales. I tried imagining sitting at tea with those ladies in a few weeks, sharing my sad story:

'Oh, you poor darling! Your man finally showed his real face, did he?'

'Yes, he did, the blaggard!'

'What did he do? Threaten you? Hurt you?'

'No. He suddenly started smiling at me.'

'Shocking!'

'And he wanted to...oh, I can hardly bring myself to say it!'

'What, dear?'

'He wanted to drink a cup of tea!'

'Goodness gracious!'

'And on the wall, he hung pictures, and cheery quotes!'

'Heavens! Men are such bastards!'

And the worst thing was—we weren't even officially married yet! If this was how he was going to change before the wedding night, how bad would it be after?

Well, at least you won't have to worry about during. If the last night with him is anything to go by...

Quickly shoving that thought aside, I entered Empire House, crossed the entrance hall with a nod to Sallow-Face and jumped into the paternoster. But this time, I didn't pray because of the hellish construction. There was a completely different reason.

Please let him be back to normal! Please let him be cold, and hard, and icy and....and...

'Ah, there you are!' As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, a bright smile greeted me. Mr Stone sat at his desk in the corner, hiding behind his book and watching his boss over the top with horror-filled eyes. Mr Ambrose, standing right there in the corridor, smiled at me. 'A wonderful morning, isn't it?'

That depends on your definition.

'Yes, Sir. Most certainly, Sir.'

'So glad to hear you agree. Make me another cup of tea, if you will, yes? I shall be in my office.'

And with that, he vanished through the door.

I looked at Mr Stone. 'Do you think you can do your magic with the teakettle once again?'

The young man nodded, sombrely. He looked slightly traumatized.

'Yes, Mr Linton.'

'Wonderful! Thank you so much. Tell me when you have the tea and a stiff glass of whiskey.'

'Err...whiskey? Mr Ambrose said only tea, didn't he?'

'He did.' Squaring my shoulders, I stepped towards my office. 'The whiskey is for me.'

Once the kind Mr Stone had provided me with all the necessary beverages, I knocked at Mr Ambrose's door.

'Enter, please.'

Please? Please?

If things went on like this, I would have to pay for a doctor out of my own pocket.

Pushing the door open with my elbow, I slipped inside and closed it firmly behind me. No sense in letting anyone else see him like this. Later, when he recovered, this would be such a horrible embarrassment.