The Piano
Chapter 2
"He has a personal telephone, Eli!"
Elisabeth looks up at Rory over the rims of her glasses with a raised eyebrow, gesturing for her to go on with her hand. When Rory doesn't say anything else, she rolls her eyes and closes her book.
"Most of the Lofties on the Inside have personal telephones, Rory."
"I guess you'd know!" Rory says, shaking her head. "Flittin' about with them as you do."
Elisabeth just flashes her a sly grin, adjusts her glasses and reopens her book as the bell attached to the front door jingles. Expecting a new customer, Rory steps out from behind the counter with a smile and a list of half-off detergents running through her head. What she finds is Mr. Penney and a tall gentleman with a scarred face standing in the middle of her current workplace.
"Good afternoon, Miss. We had thought to drop in on you at home, but you had set out for work by the time that we arrived," Mr. Penney explains mildly. "I hope we're not being too troublesome."
"No, no, of course not. Eli, can you cover my shift? Just for a little while?" she asks.
Elisabeth's only real response is a dismissive wave of her hand and a "Godspeed, don't die!" as the trio steps out into the hallway. Rory hangs back a little, trying to get a better look at the man with the scarred face; it's a fruitless endeavor. He ducks his head and tips down the brim of his hat to cast a shadow over his face.
Mr. Penney looks around at the hallway and the various doors with that politely disdainful smile on his face that Rory's seen a few too many times in her life.
"Goodness, Miss. You live close to the Edge."
In her mind, she fills in the missing part of his statement: "but at least you're not an Edger." She probably would have lost the job before she ever got the chance to start it if she were. Mr. Penney is, at least, gracious enough to brush past that observation before the conversation can get too close to things that are far too personal.
"Well, Miss, I believe that this is an excellent time to introduce you to your employer, Master Arthur Fennsworth."
The man with the scarred face, Fennsworth, touches the brim of his hat briefly, and she bobs into a hasty, clumsy curtsy. Fennsworth grumbles about her needing to work on that when she straightens up; she can't decide if the fact that he's looking everywhere but at her offends her or not. It could be a Lofty thing.
Mr. Penney clears his throat to get her attention, shooting a look at Fennsworth.
"You will, of course, be moving into the housekeeper's quarters. It would be irresponsible to expect you to commute to the Inner City from so far away on a daily basis," he says. "That was, primarily, the point of this visit. We were wondering-"
"You need to quit working there," Fennsworth cuts in impatiently, nodding towards the door. "Because you'll need to live at the manor to do your job."
It takes a minute for Fennsworth's words to sink in; she's sure, at first, that she's misheard, but no. She hasn't, and that doesn't set right with her.
"I can't just move out! There's furniture to sell, and a lease to get myself out of, and a million other things that go along with moving across the city!"
"You can move the furniture into the housekeeper's rooms," he replies, waving his hand. "And I'll handle the lease on the way out. This is non-negotiable, Miss Beauchene."
Non-negotiable. Her leaving her home is non-negotiable. She stands and numbly processes that throughout the rest of Fennsworth and Mr. Penney's talking at her. There's an awful lot of paperwork to be read and signed, more than there was when she got the job that she is now going to have to quit. She is left staring after them when they leave, still trying to wrap her head around what just happened.
A little while later, Elisabeth sticks her head out into the hallway.
"Where'd they get off to?" she asks, peering down the hall.
"To process paperwork and talk to the landlord, they said."
"Oh." Elisabeth blinks owlishly. "That was fast."
Rory just stares at her friend and wonders how it is that Elisabeth manages to not be surprised by any of this. A little nagging voice at the back of her mind reminds her of the large number of Lofties that line up to buy Elisabeth's time; she squashes it like the buzzing pest that it is.
Elisabeth shrugs and tugs her out of the hall, carefully closing the door. It doesn't do to make a lot of noise, even during business hours; a visit from the landlord is the last thing that anyone wants, especially today. The only thing that any landlord hates more than noise is being forced to give up a lease.
Rory goes back to her work, and Elisabeth goes back to her book. For a little while, Rory lets herself think that Elisabeth might just be done with the subject of her friend's new job. It wouldn't be the first time that Elisabeth Rikken lost interest in something as quickly as she found it.
Rory is wrong.
"You're moving up in the world," Elisabeth says, casually, like Rory's entire life hasn't been torn up at the roots. "Goodness. Arthur Fennsworth. Friend of his hired me to keep him company once. He just wanted to talk."
"What about?"
Rory doesn't have to turn away from reorganizing the shelves to know that Elisabeth shrugs.
"War stories, mostly. Get him talking about the land campaigns, and he'll never stop."
Try though she does, Rory doesn't get more information out of Elisabeth that night. Honestly, she ought to know better than to try, but an admirable effort was made, at least. Elisabeth leaves her with an "Oh, you'll find out." and one of those smug-bastard smiles that people seem so fond of when they know something that everyone else in the room doesn't.
When Rory gets back to her apartment, her things have already been mostly moved out. Hazel is sitting on a pile of boxes, playing with her dolls as though nothing is wrong, and all that Rory can do is hope that she’s doing the right thing.
Elisabeth looks up at Rory over the rims of her glasses with a raised eyebrow, gesturing for her to go on with her hand. When Rory doesn't say anything else, she rolls her eyes and closes her book.
"Most of the Lofties on the Inside have personal telephones, Rory."
"I guess you'd know!" Rory says, shaking her head. "Flittin' about with them as you do."
Elisabeth just flashes her a sly grin, adjusts her glasses and reopens her book as the bell attached to the front door jingles. Expecting a new customer, Rory steps out from behind the counter with a smile and a list of half-off detergents running through her head. What she finds is Mr. Penney and a tall gentleman with a scarred face standing in the middle of her current workplace.
"Good afternoon, Miss. We had thought to drop in on you at home, but you had set out for work by the time that we arrived," Mr. Penney explains mildly. "I hope we're not being too troublesome."
"No, no, of course not. Eli, can you cover my shift? Just for a little while?" she asks.
Elisabeth's only real response is a dismissive wave of her hand and a "Godspeed, don't die!" as the trio steps out into the hallway. Rory hangs back a little, trying to get a better look at the man with the scarred face; it's a fruitless endeavor. He ducks his head and tips down the brim of his hat to cast a shadow over his face.
Mr. Penney looks around at the hallway and the various doors with that politely disdainful smile on his face that Rory's seen a few too many times in her life.
"Goodness, Miss. You live close to the Edge."
In her mind, she fills in the missing part of his statement: "but at least you're not an Edger." She probably would have lost the job before she ever got the chance to start it if she were. Mr. Penney is, at least, gracious enough to brush past that observation before the conversation can get too close to things that are far too personal.
"Well, Miss, I believe that this is an excellent time to introduce you to your employer, Master Arthur Fennsworth."
The man with the scarred face, Fennsworth, touches the brim of his hat briefly, and she bobs into a hasty, clumsy curtsy. Fennsworth grumbles about her needing to work on that when she straightens up; she can't decide if the fact that he's looking everywhere but at her offends her or not. It could be a Lofty thing.
Mr. Penney clears his throat to get her attention, shooting a look at Fennsworth.
"You will, of course, be moving into the housekeeper's quarters. It would be irresponsible to expect you to commute to the Inner City from so far away on a daily basis," he says. "That was, primarily, the point of this visit. We were wondering-"
"You need to quit working there," Fennsworth cuts in impatiently, nodding towards the door. "Because you'll need to live at the manor to do your job."
It takes a minute for Fennsworth's words to sink in; she's sure, at first, that she's misheard, but no. She hasn't, and that doesn't set right with her.
"I can't just move out! There's furniture to sell, and a lease to get myself out of, and a million other things that go along with moving across the city!"
"You can move the furniture into the housekeeper's rooms," he replies, waving his hand. "And I'll handle the lease on the way out. This is non-negotiable, Miss Beauchene."
Non-negotiable. Her leaving her home is non-negotiable. She stands and numbly processes that throughout the rest of Fennsworth and Mr. Penney's talking at her. There's an awful lot of paperwork to be read and signed, more than there was when she got the job that she is now going to have to quit. She is left staring after them when they leave, still trying to wrap her head around what just happened.
A little while later, Elisabeth sticks her head out into the hallway.
"Where'd they get off to?" she asks, peering down the hall.
"To process paperwork and talk to the landlord, they said."
"Oh." Elisabeth blinks owlishly. "That was fast."
Rory just stares at her friend and wonders how it is that Elisabeth manages to not be surprised by any of this. A little nagging voice at the back of her mind reminds her of the large number of Lofties that line up to buy Elisabeth's time; she squashes it like the buzzing pest that it is.
Elisabeth shrugs and tugs her out of the hall, carefully closing the door. It doesn't do to make a lot of noise, even during business hours; a visit from the landlord is the last thing that anyone wants, especially today. The only thing that any landlord hates more than noise is being forced to give up a lease.
Rory goes back to her work, and Elisabeth goes back to her book. For a little while, Rory lets herself think that Elisabeth might just be done with the subject of her friend's new job. It wouldn't be the first time that Elisabeth Rikken lost interest in something as quickly as she found it.
Rory is wrong.
"You're moving up in the world," Elisabeth says, casually, like Rory's entire life hasn't been torn up at the roots. "Goodness. Arthur Fennsworth. Friend of his hired me to keep him company once. He just wanted to talk."
"What about?"
Rory doesn't have to turn away from reorganizing the shelves to know that Elisabeth shrugs.
"War stories, mostly. Get him talking about the land campaigns, and he'll never stop."
Try though she does, Rory doesn't get more information out of Elisabeth that night. Honestly, she ought to know better than to try, but an admirable effort was made, at least. Elisabeth leaves her with an "Oh, you'll find out." and one of those smug-bastard smiles that people seem so fond of when they know something that everyone else in the room doesn't.
When Rory gets back to her apartment, her things have already been mostly moved out. Hazel is sitting on a pile of boxes, playing with her dolls as though nothing is wrong, and all that Rory can do is hope that she’s doing the right thing.