After an hour, I finally stepped inside the store and felt the wonderful and welcoming warmth on my chilled nose and cheeks. At first, it stung my skin but felt good all the same. I pulled off my gloves and rubbed my fingers together. In another half hour, I was close enough to the counter to spot Mr McMinn, his white apron now streaked with dried blood.
I caught his eye and he nodded. When I reached the counter, Mr McMinn pulled out a package wrapped in butcher paper and tied with cotton string. ‘That will be forty-eight ration points and a dollar and seventy-seven cents.’
I handed over five ten-point coupons and two one-dollar bills. He returned two ration tokens, two dimes and three pennies. Mr McMinn gave me a wink and we exchanged quick smiles before I walked away. When I got out of the store, I breathed a sigh of relief. I half-expected that someone would call me out and ask unwelcome questions about my purchase. But I got away without incident.
I walked over to Magnolia Drive and knocked on the Bishops’ front door. Ann jerked the door open. ‘What took you so long? My dad will be home soon and we always sit down to dinner as soon as he gets here.’
I grimaced. ‘There was a line …’
Ann sighed. ‘Of course there was. C’mon in.’ Ann turned toward the kitchen. ‘Mom! Libby is here to see you.’
Mrs Bishop came to the foyer, her golden blonde hair pulled back in a bun, her smile blazing bright red. Around her waist, she wore a pink flowered apron with a ruffled edge. She must have bought that before the war – no ruffles were allowed in apparel manufacturing now.
‘Hello, dear. What can I do for you?’
‘I brought a present, Mrs Bishop,’ I said stretching out my arm with the white package.
‘For me?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘May I open it now?’
‘You should, Mrs Bishop.’
‘Let’s go in the kitchen,’ she said, leading the way. She pulled out a pair of scissors, snipped the cord and folded back the paper. ‘Oh my! Look at this!’ She ran her hand over the oval of red, bloody meat. ‘This is glorious. An eye of round? I can’t believe it. How did you ever? I might swoon.’ She patted the roast affectionately. ‘I’ll make this for dinner tomorrow night. Oh, Libby, you must join us. I have some potatoes – I’ll mash them and I’ll make gravy, too. And what else will we have? Oh, green beans. Do you like green beans, Libby?’
‘Yes, ma’am, I do.’
She grabbed my elbow and tugged me toward a cabinet. Flinging open the door, she said, ‘Look! Look at this.’
Inside, gleaming jars of green, orange and yellow filled every shelf, making me think of my mother sweating over the stove, home-canning vegetables every summer for weeks on end. Mrs Bishop stuck her hand in the cabinet and pulled out a jar of preserves. ‘Here take this back with you. They are really good.’
‘I can’t take that, Mrs Bishop, but I would like to use your phone to call my Aunt Dorothy if that would be OK.’
‘Oh, dear, are you homesick?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ It was true – it wasn’t the reason for the call – but still, it wasn’t a lie.
She grabbed my hand and pressed the jar of preserves into it. ‘Here, you take this and go right ahead and make the phone call, too. You can’t believe what your surprise gift meant to me. I must seem awfully silly but it really is more meaningful than the meat itself. It’s like the whisper of the old life gone by,’ she said and sighed.
‘Thank you, Mrs Bishop,’ I said as I picked up the black phone receiver.
‘And Libby?’
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘You can stay for dinner tonight, too, if you like.’
‘Thank you, ma’am, but no thank you, I need to be getting back to the house. I will be here tomorrow.’
I dialed Aunt Dorothy’s number, imagining the secret person listening into my conversation, deciphering the number from the spin of the rotary dial.
I heard a click and then, ‘Clark residence.’
‘Aunt Dorothy?’
‘Libby? Is that you?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘What a delightful surprise. I trust everything is going well.’
‘Yes. Well, except for this one thing. I really need to talk to you.’
‘What’s on your mind?’
‘Aunt Dorothy, I just don’t feel comfortable talking on the phone.’
‘Do you have a problem, Libby?’
‘Yes. Well, it’s about a boy,’ I lied, resenting the censors who made it necessary.
‘A boy? I never thought I’d find you flummoxed by a boy.’
‘It’s not the usual thing. I really need to talk to you. I was hoping maybe you’d be somewhere near me and I could come meet you.’
‘Well, Libby, it is your lucky day. I’ve got my assistant working on my schedule for the recruitment trip I am making for the graduate school. I told her to work in the University of Tennessee as one of my stops. I was going to send you a telegram as soon as the date was determined. I should know when by the end of the week.’
‘Oh, I can’t tell you how much that means to me.’
‘Whatever is troubling you, Libby, just remember that decisions made in haste are decisions that we regret all too soon.’
‘I’ll do nothing until I talk with you. Thank you, Aunt Dorothy.’ I carefully set the receiver back in its cradle as unshed tears moistened my eyes.
‘Is everything OK at home, dear?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Aunt Dorothy will be visiting the university soon and I’ll be able to see her.’
‘That’s wonderful, dear. I’m not your mother or your Aunt Dorothy, Libby, but if you ever need an older woman to talk to …’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bishop. I really need to run. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.’
What a relief. Aunt Dorothy would not tell me what to do but she would listen carefully and walk me through the maze of conflicting responsibilities and help me set priorities. It still wouldn’t be an easy decision but at least I wouldn’t have to make it alone.
TWENTY
I was working on a report when Ann Bishop breezed into the room. She walked past me without a glance, dropping a folded-up piece of paper on my desk without a pause. Every pair of male eyes followed Ann as she travelled the length of the lab and out the door at the other end. I could tell by the way she walked that she was aware of their stares and loving every minute of it.
I opened up the note and read: Washroom. Five minutes. Don’t be late.
Whatever did she want now? I liked Ann but sometimes she seemed such a silly girl and although I was only three years older than her, the difference in maturity often made my teeth ache.
I finished the paragraph I was writing and followed Ann down the hall. Did this summons have anything to do with tonight’s dinner? Did she think I knew something about her that her parents didn’t know and she wanted to warn me not to mention it? I pushed open the washroom door.
‘Lock it,’ Ann hissed.
‘Lock the door?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Do it.’
I flipped the catch. ‘OK. Now, what’s so urgent?’
‘What have you done?’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. What have you done?’
‘I don’t know what you want to know, Ann. Is this about dinner tonight? Don’t you want me to come?’
‘Oh, no, I want you more than ever. I can’t wait to see how Dad acts while you’re there.’
‘Ann, you aren’t making any sense,’ I said, feeling like I’d stepped into the middle of a book without a clue about what happened in the first half of the story.
‘You really don’t know, do you?’
I shook my head.
‘You’re in big trouble and you don’t even know it?’
‘Big trouble? What are you talking about? Please, Ann, start from the beginning.’
‘Last night, we’d finished dinner and Mom and I stood up to clear the table. Be
fore we could step away, there was a loud, pounding knock on the door. Dad pushed back his chair and went to answer it. Mom and I hurried into the kitchen to set down the dishes and then rushed back to see what was happening.
‘There were four uniformed soldiers at the door. And Dad was in a bad mood. He doesn’t like the military one little bit. He would put up with the solitary private that used to come with messages or to summon him to the laboratory or a meeting somewhere, but he didn’t like it. That’s one reason why he insisted that we get a telephone and raised Cain until we got one. We haven’t had many uniforms at the house since. But this time there were four of them and Dad was not happy. After they left, he called it an invasion.’
‘OK, OK, Ann, get to the point.’
‘Oh, right. Well, the reason they were there was because of you.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes. They wanted to know what you were doing at our house. Dad said he didn’t know you’d been there, which isn’t exactly true because Mom told him about the roast. But sometimes he doesn’t really listen so he probably wasn’t lying.
‘Mom said you were calling home and told them they should know that since they listened in to all our phone calls. The lieutenant got all huffy about that and gave her a speech about her patriotic duty, war time and all of that. Mom got huffy right back at him, talking about her sacrifices and the mud.
‘Then the lieutenant said you were talking in code on the phone. And Mom said he was a crazy man. She said you were just a poor, sweet girl who was homesick and having boy problems.
‘And the lieutenant said it was all a ruse. And my mom said that she was calling the administrators and asking them to build an asylum on the grounds because obviously that’s where he needed to be. Then the lieutenant got ugly. He threatened Mom for covering up for a spy. That’s when Daddy hit the roof and ordered them out of the house. The lieutenant said they’d be watching all of us and then they left.’
It was difficult to grasp the essence of the situation but it had to be about Irene. What had Irene done to make them so determined to hide her murder? ‘What was the lieutenant’s name?’
Ann wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Could it have been Cooper – Lieutenant James Cooper?’
‘Yes. It might have been.’
‘Brown hair. Blue eyes. And an expression on his face that looks like he just smelled something bad.’
‘Yes. That’s him.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘So what have you done, Libby?’
‘I’ve done nothing wrong, Ann. I swear it.’
‘Then, why …?’ Ann began.
‘He just doesn’t like me,’ I said.
‘Oh, he made a move on you and you put him in his place, didn’t you?’
Not only did Ann accept my improvised answer at face value but she expanded on it. I certainly didn’t want to deceive her but I didn’t want to elaborate either. ‘I hope your parents weren’t too upset.’
‘Well, when you left, Daddy told me that I shouldn’t be spending anymore time with you. It wouldn’t look good. Mom lit into him like you wouldn’t believe. She said you were a wonderful young woman. That you set a good example for me. Dad asked her if that was what she wanted for me – if she wanted me to be a career woman. Mom said that of course she didn’t want that. She wanted me married. She wanted grandchildren. But for now and until the war was over, I had to have my little career and learn responsibility and I could learn it all from you. And then she said that you were a sensible girl who could help me find the right kind of man instead of making the same mistake that a lot of women do.’
‘A piece of meat did all that?’ I asked.
‘Well, no, Libby. She liked you before that. She felt real bad for you at Christmastime, all alone and everything. While we were away, she kept fretting about you, regretting not inviting you to come along. After Christmas, she said that not having you with us in Nashville was one of the biggest mistakes she’d ever made.’
Terrific, she must think I’m pathetic; a pity case. ‘I guess I shouldn’t be coming to dinner tonight then.’
‘Oh, you better. That’s when she told Daddy you were coming for supper. When he said that was not a good idea, Mom said, “Oh, you’re going to let a few little soldiers push you around. Are we going to have to run and hide again?”’
‘What does that mean?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. I asked Mom later and she told me it was just an expression and then said that it was rude for me to eavesdrop on their conversations. But they were talking right in front of me, Libby. What did she expect?
‘Anyway, Dad turned bright red when she said that and stomped out of the house without a coat or boots or anything. We heard him stomping around the outside of the house. In five minutes he came back in and said, “Is there anything for dessert?” Mom said, “It depends.” And Daddy said, “I’m looking forward to seeing that nice Clark girl tomorrow evening. She’s a hard worker, a quick thinker and a very pleasant young lady.” And that was that. I sure don’t know what’s gotten into Mom. When I was growing up, no matter what Dad said, she’d always go along with it. “Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear.” Now, it’s just the opposite. Dad doesn’t say the same words but he acts just like Mom used to.’
‘Do you think their marriage is in trouble?’ I asked.
‘Oh, no. Nothing like that. They get along just fine. It’s just that I used to think Dad was in charge but now it seems like Mom is.’
‘Maybe you just see things differently because you’re older,’ I suggested.
Ann shrugged. ‘Maybe. I tried to talk to Mom about it but she just said, “Never you mind, young lady. Some things are just between you father and I. When you’re married, you’ll understand about that.” Of course if this war doesn’t end soon, I’ll be an old spinster and never get married.’
‘So are you sure I should come tonight?’
‘Oh, you have to come. I promised I wouldn’t say a word to you. If you don’t come they’ll know I broke my promise.’
‘Ann, you shouldn’t have,’ I said in mock protest.
Ann giggled and said, ‘We girls have to stick together. Gotta get back to my desk before I’m missed. See you tonight.’
I leaned back against the sink. Things were getting messier and messier. I didn’t want to cause any problems between Ann’s parents. I’d really have to make sure I didn’t let any of them know what was up until I talked to Aunt Dorothy and sorted everything out. I’d go to work, go home and do nothing else but the bare minimum of shopping.
The military had made a mistake with that overt action – now I was forewarned. If did find answers to Irene’s murder, they’d stop at nothing to shut me down. All day at work, the conversation with Ann kept running through my head, threatening to stir up my fear. But that emotion was debilitating – I was determined not to become afraid.
After work, I caught the bus and disembarked just two blocks from home. I walked fast to keep the deepening cold at bay. When I went up the steps, I spotted a small potato sack sat on the landing. I scooped it up and went inside. I set it on the table while I got the fire going.
I stoked the embers, tossed on more coals, pulled off my gloves and warmed my hands over the fire. Slipping out of my coat, I carried the bag to the kitchen counter. Inside was a pair of hand-knitted green mittens with yellow stripes. They’d come in handy if there was a snow. With these, I could help the kids next door build a snowman. But where did they come from?
I spotted a piece of paper in the bottom of the stack and pulled it out. ‘I have my eyes on you.’
I jumped back, dropped it as if it were a hot coal and watched it drift to the floor. My heart thudded painfully. I picked the note up and read it again. Who left it on my porch? Lieutenant Cooper? The man who killed Irene? I ran into the living room, opened the door to the coal stove and threw the mittens inside.
That was probably a mistake. I was just being paranoid. All
this secrecy and warnings about spies had made me too wary – too jumpy. Maybe it was nothing more than a secret admirer who had no idea that his simple words could be twisted into such a dark meaning. Still, I could not shake my feeling of unease. I grabbed a kitchen chair and rammed it under the knob of the front door.
‘I’ve got my eyes on you.’ After the war, I’d laugh about this moment. Maybe. It all depended on how the war ended – and with the production line for the uranium sitting idle, hope of a good outcome had stagnated. How would I be able to sleep ever again?
TWENTY-ONE
Walking to the Bishop home, I was on edge. Was I being followed? Or was it the phone call that captured the attention of the authorities? I squirmed and fought the constant desire to look over my shoulder as I walked. If I started behaving furtively, and someone was watching, it would only make matters worse.
Ann answered the door with a grin and whispered, ‘Good luck’ into my ear as she helped me out of my coat. Dreading the sight of Dr Bishop, I plastered on a smile and stepped out of the small foyer into the living room where the fireplace was blazing.
He pulled a pipe out of his mouth and rose as I entered saying, ‘Good evening, Miss Clark. Come closer to the fire and warm your hands.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ I said, stepping forward to absorb the heat.
‘Has there been any excitement in your life lately?’
A lump formed in my throat. Was he making conversation? Was he spying on me for the security department? Or was he just nervous about having me in his house? ‘You probably know more about the situation at Y-12 than I do,’ I answered. ‘But on the personal front, I just finished reading a fascinating book I got for Christmas, The Robe by Lloyd Douglas. Have you read it?’
‘No. But it seems everyone else has. We have a copy here somewhere. I believe Mrs Bishop has read it. What else is happening in your life?’
To my great relief, Mrs Bishop stepped into the living room with a more exuberant greeting than her usual cheery welcome. Was it because of the roast? Or out of curiosity about my trouble with security?
‘Dear Libby! What a joy to see you,’ she said. Placing a hand on each of my arms, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss on my cheek. ‘Dinner will be ready in five minutes.’
Scandal in the Secret City Page 14