Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SLANDER (09/07/17)
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TITLE: Creating Jezebel | Previous Challenge Entry
By Ann Stocking
09/14/17 -
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“I’m afraid she doesn’t have the manners of fence post,” Cornelia said, her voice low. “Why, she sat there, hands folded in her lap, and didn’t offer me so much as a cracker. It was like talking to a fence post, too, I tell you. Not a word to say for herself. I had to keep the conversation going all by myself.”
“Oh, my,” tutted Mrs. Tinker, chins quivering.
“Oh, dear,” murmured Mrs. Fiddler, though if pressed, she might have admitted her exact words were “poor dear.”
“I must say, Cornelia, you serve a fine tea.” Mrs. Tinker took another bite of lemon bar. “And your pastries are utterly divine.”
“Thank you, Prissy. Perhaps I should take our newcomer under my wing and offer a bit of guidance.”
“Oh, Cornelia, you always know the right thing to do,” crowed Mrs. Tinker.
“You are so kind,” added Mrs. Fiddler.
And they prayed, as was their habit, for the newly arrived young woman, since she was altogether lacking.
Maureen twisted her wedding band. It was loose, and she wondered if it wouldn’t be wise to string it on a chain around her neck. It’d be closer to her heart, too, she thought, and so she did, tucking the ring inside her blouse. It warmed next to her skin.
Cornelia hurried home. She had just enough time to boil the kettle and set out the tarts before Mrs. Fiddler and Mrs. Tinker arrived. Calm down, Cornelia, she soothed herself. It’d be a sin to drop a teacup, or worse, her Royal Dalton teapot.
Drat Prissy and Agda. I’m about to rupture with critical information and they are dawdling. But then the doorbell rang, delivering her from torment.
“Girls! I’ve poured your tea already. Help yourself. Now,” she said, as they spooned sugar into their tea. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“How so?” asked Prissy Tinker.
“I was teaching her to make pastry, for these very tarts. She has no feel for it at all, by the way. I had to put my hands over hers on the rolling pin. Imagine! And you’ll never guess. She’s not wearing a ring!”
Mrs. Tinker and Mrs. Fiddler’s mouth made little O’s, but then Mrs. Fiddler said, “You’re not wearing a ring, Cornelia.”
“Oh, Agda. You know that lout sailed to Argentina on our wedding day. Abandoning me, in my splendor, at the chapel.”
“Poor Cornelia.” Prissy sighed.
“But Cornelia, what does that signify?”
“Ah, but she was wearing a ring when I went to visit her the first time! There!” Cornelia’s smile was smug.
Mrs. Tinker and Mrs. Fiddler looked at each other.
“Don’t you see? She comes here, feigning respectability, but she can’t cook to save her life. And she’s removed her ring.” Mrs. Pratt sat back. “You know what that means. Mark my words.”
As she buttered her toast, Maureen thought about Cornelia, who’d come over the day before, and they’d made custard tarts. Or rather Cornelia had. Maureen smiled, remembering Cornelia’s directives, as if Maureen couldn’t tell flour from sawdust. Maureen had thanked her, even though Cornelia had taken the tarts with her, assuring Maureen that she’d do better next time.
Cornelia’s heart was heavy, regretting that things had come to this. Perhaps if she’d been more forthright from the beginning.
“I am a watchman, after all. It would be utter negligence not to share what I know.” She leaned forward, hissing. “She had a man. At her house.”
“But ...” Mrs. Fiddler said.
“No ‘buts’ about it, Prissy. Oh, it looks innocent enough, but that’s the way of women like her. She’ll lure them in, pretending to be helpless, needing her lawn mowed or whatnot. I tell you, lock up your Herbert and Godfrey, girls. They aren’t safe.”
Maureen sliced another piece of peach pie for her brother. “Thank you for your help, Richard. I couldn’t have fixed the gate by myself.”
“You’re welcome, Sis. You’re doing all right, settling in?”
“Yes, I’m fine. The people seem very helpful and friendly. I think I’ll like it here.”
“I’m so glad. After all you’ve been through, you deserve some joy.” He kissed her then, chastely, brotherly. Unfortunately.
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Blessings~
It is so easy to get swept up in gossip. The sad thing about the story is not that one of her friends stopped her.
Great job.