Lisa

by Joan Van Every Frost

  “Cynthia, this is Lisa who is going to give a try at being a companion for you. Lisa, this is my wife.” His voice gave away nothing, but his face was like stone.

  “I hope I’ll prove satisfactory,” Lisa said formally.

  The little eyes peered at her, then incongruously two big tears ran down the puffy jowls. “I’m hungry, the rosebud mouth whimpered. “I’m so very hungry and they won’t give me anything to eat.”

  “Great heavenly days, Cynthia,” Jarrell said with a thin edge of exasperation in his tone, “you eat enough for three normal women. Can’t you see you’re killing yourself?”

  “Who would care?” the rosebud mouth whined. “Would you care, dear husband?”

  Jarrell looked uncomfortable.

  “Just let me eat my fill for once and I’ll die and leave you all in peace.”

  Lisa found herself feeling desperately sorry for the creature, not because of her whining, which was irritating, but because she was so obviously very unhappy. Lisa’s memories all involved not having enough to eat, and she found it hard to understand that there could be a surplus of food, that food could in fact kill. “I think it’s time to leave us alone, Doctor Jarrell,” she said firmly. “Mrs. Jarrell and I are going to get on quite well. Would you please ask Priddy to send up some tea? Nothing to eat, just lots of tea.”

  Jarrell looked at her almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he swore softly, then left, closing the door carefully behind him.

  “I see you’ve got lots of books here, Mrs. Jarrell. Which are your favorites?” Lisa sked to start a conversation going.

  “Please call me Cynthia — I hate being Mrs. Jarrell. I’m afraid I don’t read much, however. I keep running across words I don’t know.”

  “How would you like me to read to you?” Lisa proposed. “I see there is some Dickens here. Your husband gave me a few books of Dickens, and I liked them enormously.”

  The little eyes suddenly regarded her with suspicion. “Why are you doing this? Are they paying you to spy on me? No one in this house cares if I’m entertained or not.”

  “They would hardly pay me to spy on you,” Lisa pointed out reasonably. “You are so obviously not in a position to get in much mischief even if you wanted to.”

  “They are going to put something in that tea you want brought, that’s it,” the rosebud mouth whined.

  “If you like, I’ll be glad to drink from your cup before you do,” Lisa offered. The first step was to try to gain the poor creature’s confidence, for until Cynthia trusted her, Lisa could do nothing for her.

  The rosebud mouth had nothing more to say, but retreated into a sulky silence. Lisa picked up David Copperfield and began to read. By the time the tea arrived, Cynthia had forgotten all of her suspicions and begged Lisa not to stop. Why, she’s starved for diversion, Lisa thought.

  “We’ll go on,” Lisa promised, “after we have our tea.”

  Cynthia greedily snatched her cup and swallowed it in one long draught. She held it out for more, her lip trembling. “Put more sugar in it, Lisa — please, lots more.”

  Lisa filled the cup again, put in the same amount of sugar as before, and gave it to her. “Do you really like being so fat, Cynthia?” she asked.

  Cynthia bridled. “How dare you speak to me like that! I’ll tell Dr. Jarrell, that’s what I’ll do.”

  Lisa remained unperturbed. “Go ahead and tell him. If we’re to be friends, Cynthia, and I hope that we shall be friends, we’ll have to be honest with each other. Here you are with everything that you could possibly want: a beautiful house, servants, all the expensive clothes you could possibly wear, food fit for a queen, a distinguished husband — ”

  “He despises me,” Cynthia broke in.

  “And why shouldn’t he?” Lisa asked cruelly. “Have you looked in a mirror recently? It’s time you stopped lying around feeling sorry for yourself and overstuffing your belly. I think you must have been attractive once, perhaps even beautiful. Don’t you miss that? Don’t you want your husband to desire you again?”

  The rosebud mouth trembled again. “Him!” she said scornfully. “He never did love me. It’s not him I — ” She broke off suddenly and the little eyes took on a crafty look. “You’re a sly one, aren’t you? Well, I’m not going to say any more. If I’m so fat and ugly, then why not let me eat? It’s the only thing I still enjoy.”

  “We’re going to do lots of things that you’ll enjoy,” Lisa soothed, “only you’re going to have to lose some weight first. I should think you’d be bored to tears just lying in bed day after day.”

  “They want me to lose my mind, that’s what they want. They’re monsters, all of them. I could tell you things that would turn your hair white, things that have gone on in this very house, but I’ll have to know you quite a bit better than I do now.” She added slyly, “If you’re one of them, I’ll not tell you a thing. More tea, please, and do make it sweeter this time.”

  Dark had fallen, the lamps were lit, and Lisa’s voice was getting hoarse with reading when there came a knock at the door. She opened it to find Annie carrying a large tray.

  “Annie, I’m so glad you’ve come!” she exclaimed. “Is that Mrs. Jarrell’s dinner?”

  “Ay’m ’appy ter be ’ere, miss, and Ay do thank you.” She put the tray down on the table. There was a large bowl of meat soup, some thick slices of pork, four baked apples, half a loaf of sliced bread, a quarter of a pound of butter, six boiled potatoes that hadn’t even been part of the afternoon meal, and three portions of trifle.

  “That was thoughtful of Priddy to include my dinner, too, but I couldn’t possibly eat again so soon. That’s enough for a regiment.”

  “Yes’m. But Priddy told me ter ask you ter say when you wanted yer supper. This be fer the missus ’ere.” She made no sign what she thought of the enormous meal or of the gross creature in the bed.

  Furious, Lisa reached under the bed for the chamber pot and emptied half the soup in it. The rest of the soup she put on the small table by the bed along with the napkin and spoon. Followed by a heart-felt wail of dismay from Cynthia, she herself took the loaded tray and left the room to go downstairs with it.

  “Priddy, whoever told you send up so much food for Mrs. Jarrell?”

  “It do be no more nor she eat every meal,” Priddy said defensively. “Missus Stephens say give ’er wat she wants, so Ay give ’er wat she wants.”

  Lisa stormed off in search of Jarrell, whom she found in his study with Mrs. Lewis, going over household accounts. “I know I’m supposed to be a companion to Mrs. Jarrell, not a nurse or keeper,” she raged, “but I won’t stand by and watch her being choked to death with a surfeit of food!”

  Jarrell and Mrs. Lewis stared at her, dumbstruck.

  “Priddy sent up a tray tonight with enough on it to founder a horse. No wonder the poor thing looks like a sow about to farrow. Priddy says Mrs. Stephens told her to give her whatever she wanted. I say it’s criminal!”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Jarrell managed.

  “Don’t you think we’ve tried giving her less to eat?” Mrs. Lewis interjected. “She goes into hysterics, threatens to throw herself out the window, and upsets the entire household. If she’s so determined to kill herself by foundering, I say good riddance. She’s been nothing but a confounded thorn in the side ever since she came here. Everything and everybody existed only for ‘Her Highness’.”

  “I’ve only been with her for an afternoon,” Lisa objected, “but even I can see that she’s a spoiled, frightened little child locked up in that obscene woman’s body. To give that poor greedy creature all she wants to eat is nothing more nor less than murder, and you a doctor and nurse who are supposed to save lives, not take them.”

  Mrs. Lewis looked stricken, but Jarrell’s face contained an expression of such naked pain that even in the midst of her anger Lisa felt a stab of remorse.

  “We stand reminded of our duty, Lisa, and I thank you
,” he said finally. “It’s easy to forget that doctors and nurses are only people, not gods. Heaven help me, married to her or not I can’t stand the sight of her. She was a miserable, puling, whining wench right from the beginning, and as long as I don’t have to lay eyes on her, I can be reasonably content. I would that I could change myself and live up to the Christian ideal, not to mention the ideal of a physician, but I cannot bring myself to do it.”

  “I see,” Lisa said quietly. “Then give me the authority to try to help her. I may fail, but at least she’ll know that someone cared enough to try. I want standing orders with Priddy that 1, and I only, will be supervising her meals.”

  “You have the authority as of now, Lisa,” Jarrell replied. “You’ve shamed us all.”

  As she left the room, Jarrell and Mrs. Lewis stood side by side watching her go.

  “Priddy, Mrs. Lewis will tell you the same thing when she sees you, but I’m telling you now that nothing is to be sent up to Mrs. Jarrell without my direct approval. I don’t care who asks you; refer them to Dr. Jarrell.”

  “Yes’m,” Priddy said without argument.

  Unbidden there came to Lisa’s mind a familiar voice she couldn’t place saying, “There’s nothing like a spot of catnip tea ter calm the nerves.” She knew where catnip grew on the way to Dunwiddleston; she’d pick some. Meanwhile plain tea would have to do. She would drown Cynthia in an ocean of tea to keep her stomach from complaining too much until it shrank a bit. For the time being she didn’t have to worry about Cynthia going and getting her own food because she could only just barely totter about the room with Lisa’s help. Amy had been washing her in bed, but Lisa determined that she would begin taking baths like anyone else.

  “Where’s Tommy?” Lisa asked, having had a sudden idea.

  “If you mean that creature you brought, ’e’s in the storeroom ’owling.”

  “Has he been fed?”

  “ ’E’s been fed right enough. Ay’ve already ’ad ter clean up after ’im as well.” Priddy was getting a dangerous look in her eye.

  “I’ll take him off your hands. Be a love, Priddy, and ask Amy to put some dirt from the garden in a box and bring it up to Mrs. Jarrell’s room. I think Tommy is going to earn his keep.”

  She caught up the yowling Tommy with one hand and carried a saucer of milk with the other as she climbed the stairs to return to Cynthia’s room. From the top of the stairs she could hear muffled shrieks coming from down the hall, and she opened Cynthia’s door to discover her in a state of complete hysterics.

  “You’re trying to kill me,” Cynthia screamed. “You’ve been sent to torture me, to starve me to death. I’ll save you the trouble; I’ll kill myself.” She tottered to the window and threw it open with a dramatic flourish.

  “Do you need help over the sill?” Lisa inquired solicitously.

  Cynthia looked down, shuddered visibly, and drew back, her eyes darting wildly about the room. “I’ll take poison. You’ll be sorry when you know you’ve driven me to take my own life.”

  “Nonsense, Cynthia,” Lisa retorted cheerfully. “Poison hurts terribly, and then you might just throw it all up and have it to do all over again. Slitting your wrists is far more sure, but it takes nerve and it’s messy — all that blood over everything.”

  Cynthia paled and hobbled back toward the bed where Tommy was licking himself, oblivious of the commotion. “Where did that cat come from?”

  “I thought he’d be company for you,” Lisa said. “His name is Tommy. He’s a wonderful hunter and he likes people besides.” She stroked him, and Tommy arched up against her hand, purring loudly and kneading with his paws on the bed. “Here, pat him. He won’t bite you.”

  Cynthia tentatively put out a hand, and Tommy obligingly rubbed his head against it. “Oh, did you see that?” she breathed. “He likes me. Mama always said cats were nasty dangerous things I wasn’t to have anything to do with. But he’s nice, isn’t he? Don’t you think he likes me?” She patted an ecstatic Tommy until he rolled over and put his white feet in the air, begging her to rub his stomach.

  “My,” Lisa exclaimed, “you certainly have a way with cats. I’ve never seen him carry on so,” she added untruthfully.

  “Can he stay here? I just know he and I are going to love each other.” She crooned baby talk at the happy Tommy while she tickled him under the chin.

  There was a knock at the door, and Amy came in with tea in a huge pot meant for gatherings. She was followed by Toby with some old papers and a box of dirt, which he put in a far corner of the room.

  “Thank you, Toby,” Lisa said loftily, but she winked at him with the eye away from Cynthia.

  “Yes’m,” he said, grinning at her as he and Amy left.

  “Now where were we?” Lisa asked as she poured out a cup of tea for Cynthia. “Oh yes, we were talking about ways of doing oneself in. Let’s see, there’s jumping out the window, taking poison, slitting your wrists. How about drowning?”

  “Oh Lisa, stop making fun of me,” Cynthia laughed, her mood entirely changed. “You knew perfectly well I had no intention of killing myself. There was time — but never mind that now. It was just that I was so hungry — ” She stopped short again, surprised. “Since you brought Tommy, I forgot all about it.”

  “Here,” Lisa said hastily, “have a cup of tea. If you’re hungry during the night, drink cold tea. If you run out of that, drink water. I’ve had a long day, and I want to go to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning.” She thought it best not to mention that she was going to have some supper before retiring.

  In the middle of the night she woke suddenly, her heart pounding. A slab of moonlight lay on the floor, and through the window she could see the hills across the Dunwiddleston road bathed in its brilliance. She could only remember the end of the nightmare, that she was scrubbing and scrubbing, but all the blood wouldn’t come up. Outside a door as she worked frantically came the footsteps of someone who would kill her if she was found there scrubbing. But the blood wouldn’t come up, and she couldn’t flee before it did. “Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head.” The nursery rhyme refrain had kept running through the dream.

  Her quieting heart began tripping again as she realized that the footsteps in her dream were real. There was only a thin runner down the polished wood of the hall floor, and the slight groans and protests of the boards under each footstep were clear in the still of the night. The footsteps paused outside her door, and for a wild moment she wondered if it could be Eric. But then they went on their way and were soon lost in the small creaks and settlings of the night-time house. She meant to stay awake for a while to see if they returned, when she would on some pretext or other open her door to see who it was, but sleep took her unawares, and she chased a colorful bird endlessly across the moor.

  The next morning she looked in on Cynthia before going down to breakfast, only to find her still fast asleep, Tommy sprawled out comfortably on the huge soft mound of her body. He opened one eye, then shut it again, totally uninterested in her presence.

  Jarrell and Eric were eating breakfast when she came downstairs, and Eric motioned her to join them. “Mrs. L tells me you’re going to try to do something about Cynthia. You surely do believe in taking on lost causes, don’t you?”

  “Have you seen her this morning?” Jarrell asked. “How is she taking your diet?”

  “I don’t know,” Lisa said, neatly clipping off the top of her boiled egg. “I expected to find her hungry and whining, Tommy or no Tommy, but instead of that she’s asleep.”

  “You mean your cat’s with her?” Eric laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever made you think of that?”

  “Never mind what made me think of it; she thinks having Tommy is wonderful. The poor thing has been loveless for so long it’s pitiful to see how happy just a cat can make her.” She stared accusingly at Jarrell, who had the grace to look uncomfortable.

  “Come riding with me this morning,” Eric
coaxed.

  “I can’t. I have to be there when she wakes up and see to it that she doesn’t have hysterics again.”

  “Oh, so you’ve been through one of her performances?” Jarrell asked. “How did you get her quieted down? I thought you’d be asking me for a sleeping draught; that’s how we always quieted her down before.”

  “I offered to help her out of the window,” Lisa replied, smiling. “She didn’t take me up on it.”

  Jarrell and Eric looked at each other. “Well, I’ll be damned,” they said in chorus, then laughed.

  “Maybe I can get away this afternoon,” Lisa said to Eric. “We’ll see. Right now I want to take some tea and toast up to her highness, and a bit of meat for Tommy. He’s earned it.”

  When she saw that Cynthia was still asleep, she became a little worried. “Here Tommy,” she said to the purring cat, “have a bit of breakfast.” She held out a piece of meat to him. If there was one thing Tommy liked better than being patted, it was eating. He gave an uninterested sniff at the meat and went back to sleep. Lisa put her hand on his stomach and found it stretched drum-tight. He was stuffed, and yet all she had given him last night was some milk.

  A dawning suspicion made her bend over Cynthia, who was snoring lightly. Sure enough, up close she could see a shine of grease around her mouth. On the bed clothes there was a smear of gravy and crumbs of what looked like cake. She took hold of Cynthia’s shoulder and shook her. The snoring stopped. She shook her again, thoroughly exasperated.

  “Go ’way,” Cynthia mumbled thickly. “Don’ wan’ any more.”

  “You won’t get any more, either,” Lisa snapped, and went on shaking her.

  Cynthia’s eyes opened sleepily then widened as she became aware of who was shaking her. “Who asked you to wake me up?” she demanded. “You can companion me some other time. Go away and let me sleep.”