by P. S. Power
Before Mr. Vernor could speak Gwen smiled up at the man sweetly and started talking.
“Oh, this is one of Father's favorite places, and I'm sure you can tell why after tasting that dessert! But tonight, I invited my parents and Miss Westmorland to come, since I'm paying for this out of the first money that I've ever actually earned. So, while a wonderful place, I think you can all tell why The Rustic was a better choice for me. It really is a great place. Good food, great service, and an educational experience for the kids.” She grinned up at them all tossing out a wink and what she hoped would be a playful, slightly coy look. It would either work or she'd seem to be having a mild seizure. Maybe they'd take pity on her if they suspected she was ill.
The reporters laughed at her little advertisement for the place, but they all wrote it down anyway, including Deborah Winslow.
Mr. Vernor chimed in, seconded by his wife about how proud they were of Katherine and her recent efforts.
The men from the financials, which Gwen guessed to be various papers and magazines devoted to business news, then peppered the shipping magnate with questions that she barely even understood, she tried to follow the whole thing in case there was a test later. There was always a test, right?
“Miss Vernor, any plans to follow your Father into the family business? The stock holders would love to know...” This came from a small man, who looked almost evil when he said it. She figured this was some kind of trap then, but what that would be exactly she didn't know at all.
“Follow Father into the family business? I suppose with a bit more practice and maybe some additional schooling I could swing a position in the mail room. I don't think the stock holders will need to worry on that score for some time.” She grinned, hoping to turn this into a joke and also hoping that mail rooms both existed and were called that here.
Mr. Vernor clapped her gently on the shoulder.
“My daughter's always welcome. We may even be able to do slightly better than the mail room to start with, but only just...” He let his voice go low and conspiratorial then. “Everyone at Vernor Shipping earns their place, even if they have the Vernor name...”
Everyone laughed at this, except Beth who still held a smile plastered to her face.
Things drew to a close, with Deborah Winslow following them out toward their lorrie, which circled around to pick them up. The blond woman didn't approach, she just watched, a strange look on her face. Skeptical and maybe a little angry, Gwen thought, not that she knew for certain. The facial expressions here were all just a tiny bit off from what she'd grown up with.
Less abject disgust for instance.
In the black carriage, Gwen got Bethany back to normal, her eyes going wide as she looked back and forth between the window, Gwen, and the Vernors.
“Gwen...”
The detective took a deep breath and continued.
“Deborah Winslow and Katherine... they were... special to each other once. Lovers. That's why she seems to think we're dating now. She's not planning to let go of this story until she knows the whole truth...”
The Vernors started to act shocked and scandalized, but Bethany just held up a hand, stopping them both in mid-denial.
“You both knew about it. Gwen needs to know this kind of thing, so it doesn't come back to bite her later. Really, I can't believe you didn't mention it already.”
Bethany seemed to become slightly angry then, the most negative emotion Gwen had seen in her so far, and considering she was kinder to a man that had been molesting her repeatedly... She liked the other woman, but still didn't really know her that well yet. This situation, however, would have to be fixed. Trying to do all this without information wouldn't work. That included knowing who she was working with.
Quietly she mentioned this to the older couple. Ethyl put a handkerchief to her mouth and sobbed softly, but managed to speak clearly enough.
“We... we didn't want to tell you, because we thought that if you knew that Katherine had... relations with women, you might not help us.” This choked off suddenly as if it sounded too beastly to speak out loud. She sobbed again and again, real tears pouring down her face.
“Well. Dang.” Shaking her head, Gwen rubbed at her right temple for a bit.
“Look, if you know things like this, whatever it is, just tell me from now on. I mean, if Deborah approaches me, or someone else does, and I don't know anything about a past relationship, that's going to kind of be a big giveaway. I hope I don't have to prove anything to her, because I really do like men, and well, even that's a theoretical thing, because I've never actually been on a date, much less had sex.”
Her face felt hot as she realized she'd just said this out loud to people that probably thought of her as their own daughter still. This information seemed to make the older people happy for some reason. Unreasonably so. Bethany grinned at her sidelong as Gwen ducked her head wanting to hide somehow. No one brought the topic up again, except to let her know that if anyone, man or woman, came up to her claiming to be a former lover, they probably weren't joking.
Great, she thought, now she was not only stuck in some strange different reality, but also both a virgin and a slut at the same time. No confusion there then.
Beth guided her up to the apartment carefully, arm in arm.
When they got inside, she gave Gwen a quick hug.
“You don't have to be, you know. A virgin. Or a slut for that matter, but your reputation is already made there, so you may want to consider it as an option,” Beth told her playfully.
“There are lots of men here that would gladly date you. Or women. That would have to be kept a bit more secret. You're not what you were before though. You're not even like me, an abomination, even if the switch were found out, you wouldn't be held to account for it. Here you're perfect. People already want you. I think that our address being obscure and working in the Constabulary itself is probably all that's kept you from being overwhelmed with invitations from young men.”
Standing still, Gwen asked where this came from, since they really hadn't talked to each other about such things before.
“It's, you know, when I'm in my telepathic state, I know what you think too, right? How you feel?” She actually held her breath, but Gwen just shrugged, having figured that would be the case.
“Well, I've noticed how much... How much you hate yourself, Gwen. Not because you're bad, but just because everyone treated you poorly for so long. But you don't have to feel like that. You're a good person, maybe one of the best I've ever known. I've seen the inside of minds, a lot of them. I know what people are really like, even the parts they hide from the world, and you, you're good, and strong, and kind all at the same time. You have every reason to hate the world, but instead you give and try to make it better when you can. That is far more rare and special than you know.”
Then, very uncharacteristically, Bethany hugged her for a long time. For one of the first times in her life, Gwen hugged someone back, knowing that they didn't want to get away from her in revulsion.
It felt nice.
Chapter seventeen
Nothing happened for the next few days, except that reporters kept showing up at work to ask them questions, often the same questions, over and over again, and following them almost everywhere they went. It started to displease Peals, who felt this would be getting in the way of their investigation soon, if it hadn't already. The only thing about the whole mess that he approved of was how Gwen had managed to not give away any secrets about the case, sending the press to him, so that he could dole out information carefully instead of things just slopping out all at once.
“Brilliant piece of work there. I'll be passing the idea up the line, if you don't mind? Too often the Constabulary gives away information to the press too soon, alerting the criminals to our intentions. If we can put a policy in place to slow that down a bit, then we'd all be better off.”
The older man wiped his head with a kerchief pensively as he talked to the girls sitti
ng in his office on Friday morning. Gwen thought he looked worried.
“The thing is...well... until the press pulls back a bit, I'm going to have to take you off the case, Miss Westmorland. Now,” He held up a hand to forestall her objections, even though the female detective hadn't even begun to try and speak. “I know, it's your case and you're still the lead on it, but the field work, that can be done by others for a bit. We'll keep you in the loop, bring you in for anything important, but otherwise...”
Nodding her head, Bethany just agreed with the man.
“I was worried that this may be the case. Actually, I'm a bit surprised that it hadn't happened already, just having a Westmorland involved in the investigation, to tell the truth. Hopefully we can keep the data stream open, so that my work to date doesn't become useless. But I do understand. What do you want us to do in the mean time?”
A soft sigh of relief came from Peals then, as he let out the breath he'd been holding. Shifting his weight forward in his leather chair, he recommended that they both take the weekend off.
“You're due for a rest anyway, both of you. You, Miss Farris, just got out of the hospital after being stabbed and nearly dying for goodness sake, and Miss Westmorland, you haven't had half a chance to recover from the ill-treatment here. Both of you deserve a vacation. Even given this situation as it stands, I can't afford to lose you for as long as you should get. Still, take the weekend and I don't know... go shopping or something? Whatever it is that women like to do for fun.”
He smiled when he said this and Gwen could tell he didn't mean it to be offensive, so she let the shopping reference go. Actually, maybe shopping would be the thing to do here? It would get them out of the house and give her a reason to be gawking at things while she tried to figure out which end should be up in this place. So far she'd barely been out in the world, in a place that didn't even have television. If they had anything like radio she hadn't heard it yet, though they must, since those news microphones had been there for a reason, right?
Beth thanked the man and got up when he dismissed them, without saying anything more. She quickly walked to Chuan and Wilbur's desks, telling them that Gwen and she both had the weekend off, but that the men could meet them at their place before the party. She left each a card with the address on it.
They had to wait for a while after calling James, since he'd waited back at the carriage house for Gwen to call him. That always took about twenty minutes, but put him out of the weather – a light drizzle today – since the driver's seat had him out in the elements all the time. She hated to think what he'd do in a downpour. Get really wet probably. The way he acted, she doubted he'd complain about that, not to her, so, something for her to keep in mind each day.
They waited in the lobby of the Constabulary building, moving outside only when the small white lorrie pulled up directly in front of the door. They darted out, a quick walk really since running would have been undignified and probably ended in a skid, since the footwear didn't have traction, to find the door held open for them by the soaked driver. At least he wore what looked like a warm and waterproof coat, with a large black hood. The whole thing looked odd to her, almost like it would be half cloak, half trench coat. On his hands he wore sturdy looking leather gloves.
“Good morning, ma'am! Where to today?”
He sounded chipper enough to Gwen, even after making the slow drive in the rain. She glanced at Bethany for direction, since they hadn't made any plans as to what to do for the day. In the evening they'd need a ride to the party, which they'd already arranged with the man.
“Honestly? I don't know. I think we should talk about our plans first, but I don't want to leave you sitting out here while we do it. Why don't we go and get some coffee someplace while we decide?”
The man ducked his head, and told them he knew of a place not too far away that actually had covered parking.
“The coffee's not bad either. Turkish style. Would that be alright for you? It's not a fine place, but it's comfortable enough.”
Beth looked at the man and nodded, saying she thought that sounded good to her. Smiling, Gwen nodded too. She wondered what a coffee place would be like here. She had a feeling it wouldn't be Starbucks, not that she'd ever been inside of one of those herself, but she'd gotten some of their coffee from the store once. It hadn't been the best quality. Certainly not worth four dollars a cup.
The place took about five minutes to reach and looked to be absolutely tiny inside, James seemed surprised when she indicated that he should come in with them at first, then tried to demure.
Beth put an end to this without hesitation.
“The lorrie will be safe here, and you should stay out of the cold and damp as much as possible. Besides, I think Gwen wants your input as to what we should do with ourselves this weekend, to distance herself from her past activities for a while. Who better to ask than a person that knows the whole city like you do?”
James blushed, but didn't say anything else, coming with them.
Inside he played the part of chaperon well, Gwen thought. James looked suspiciously at the people inside as if warning them not to try and steal his women. No one batted an eyelash, because that kind of thing was probably normal. The waiter didn't wait for their order, but simply brought each of them a small cup and started the coffee brewing in the carafe in front of them. The blend they used came out strong, almost thick, redolent with spices, no cream or sugar was offered, and neither Bethany or James asked for it, so she didn't either.
The first sip surprised her, since it didn't taste nearly as bitter as she'd thought it would. After that, her body began to warm quickly as the caffeine and warming spices hit her system. They made small talk, mainly about the weather and what would be expected soon in that regard, until she finally asked James what he thought the exact opposite of what she would have done a month ago would be, as far as day trips.
“I don't rightly know. Art galleries and museums? A bookstore and a quiet evening with friends listening to the telesar? A drive to the country, if the weather were nice enough, which I doubt it will be this weekend – dry – but a bit chill for a picnic. I was thinking of taking my missus and the kids to the Museum of Industry soon, that could be an interesting place, if you really want to try something new. May not be your speed though.”
Looking at Beth then, she smiled. It sounded perfect for throwing off the reporters as quickly as possible. She didn't know if Bethany could pick up thoughts all the time or only when she was in her work state, but the other woman nodded at her, as if she understood what Gwen flashed on then.
“James, do you think your wife and kids would be alright going there with us? We may have to borrow a bigger lorrie, but would that be alright? I don't want to stay in all weekend, but I don't want to keep taking their Father away all the time either. Besides, you're never too old to learn new things.”
James told them that sounded wonderful and even seemed to mean it, which felt like a good thing to her, not wanting the man to feel pushed into anything if she could help it.
Later, after being dropped off at home, she finally got to question Bethany on some things.
“What's a telesar?” she asked as they took their coats off just inside the door of their small apartment.
“That's a device that plays music and has shows, word plays and dramatics. News too. We have one, I just haven't had time for it lately. Here, I'll show you.”
The device looked like a simplified version of the telestator. When the lid opened on the cabinet, which stood about five foot high, it revealed a set of small metal spheres that sat on small wooden poles, each about twelve inches high. The bottom of the cabinet proved to be the base, where Gwen guessed, the actual working components were housed.
On the top of this base, below the spheres, there were two dials. One controlled the on and off function the other volume. A small brass slider controlled which broadcast would be picked up, by moving it to a given location along its path.
> Turning it on, Beth found a station she didn't mind too much to use as an example.
“It's pretty easy to use. The crystals have to be charged about once a week, if it's used all the time, about once every two months the way I normally use it – I'm not a huge fan. Still, it may be a good way for you to learn about the culture here, so maybe you should listen when you can? What do you want to listen to first, news or music?”
Gwen could tell that the other woman actually wanted news, so she said that would be nice.
It turned out not to be that at all.
The news seemed to be run in a very different fashion than the relatively straightforward if distorted stuff from back home. Here, a story was given fairly well, with the facts being delivered as they were known at the time. It even sounded, for the most part, like good, solid, unbiased reporting.