Chapter 4. At the point of a sword
Monday arrived, and Sarah felt restless and apprehensive. She sat in her bed watching as the sky lightened up and dawn arrived. She wondered what she'd been thinking, signing up for fencing classes and spending such a lot of money on equipment. Still it would give her something that she and Toby would be doing together, and something that would take their minds off the problems here at home.
When she'd arrived home after the bonfire she found Karen lying on the sofa listening to some old records and singing to her self softly. She didn't like the sounds of the song that Karen had been singing and hated the words. 'Cast your fate to the wind,' indeed. She didn't think this kind of thing was healthy, and was sure that Karen was giving into despair allowing it to be come depression. Her father had not seemed much help either, as he sat there holding her hand.
Sarah worked at making them think of other things over the rest of the weekend. She had asked Karen what plans she was making for Thanksgiving, one of her favorite holidays. The last thing she wanted was for her stepmother to just give up. Thinking and planning a family holiday was sure to cheer her up, Sarah felt.
Now, as the new week dawned, Sarah resigned herself to the role she'd chosen to play. She was not just living here; she was now the supportive daughter. Toby was more than just a baby she was stuck at home with….he was a child who knew something was amiss… She rose from her bed, went to her window, drew back the curtain and looked out on the November morning. It was going to be a gray day, and Sarah feared there would be a good many of them ahead.
--
Karen was putting the finishing touches on lunch for Toby when Sarah entered the kitchen. "Good morning," she greeted the younger woman.
"Morning Karen," Sarah said quietly. "Is there coffee?" Her stepmother had taken to drinking tea in her absence, and Sarah was not sure she'd find a cup of coffee.
"Yes," Karen waved at the coffee maker on the other counter. "Your father said he wouldn't drink another cup of tea, ever."
Chuckling, Sarah moved to the other counter, "Dramatic, isn't he?" she teased.
Nodding the stepmother went on making lunch. "Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?"
"No," Sarah said quietly. "I'm running errands on my usual lunch hour. Then I'm covering the fashion show at McKenna's, and they'll have a spread out for the press. So I'm covered… thanks."
"You'll be at McKenna's?" Karen placed the sealed lunch bag on the table for the boy whom they could hear rustling about above. "Did you get a promotion?"
"I guess so," Sarah said taking her coffee to the table where her stepmother was taking a seat.
"When?"
"Last week, I guess my work got some notice… and Mr. Reynolds gave me a chance to do something more than clean up print." She sipped the life-giving liquid in her cup.
Reaching a hand out to the girl Karen whispered. "I wish you'd told us, honey… we'd have celebrated your… good fortune."
Looking at the hand offered, Sarah found herself feeling very serious. "Karen, sometime when it's just us… I want to have a serious talk."
The comforting hand pulled back into the lap of its owner. "Not now," she pleaded knowing the boy would soon come bounding in. "Please?"
Wordlessly Sarah nodded.
Toby came into the kitchen in a huff and dumped his fencing bag on the floor loudly. "Talk about dramatic," Karen murmured to Sarah, "What's that about?"
New instructor starts today," Sarah sipped her coffee.
"I'm not going, I'm quitting," Toby barked throwing himself into a chair.
His sister's fingers pulling his ear got his attention. "Not on your life buddy boy, I just spent a small fortune on equipment and you're not getting off that easy!"
Making faces at Sarah, Toby flinched and slapped at her hand to ease up on his ear. "That hurts," he snapped.
"Toby I thought you loved fencing," his mother said sadly.
The little boy glumly placed his elbows on the kitchen table and leaned into his hands. "I do, but I need Mr. Beckets, he's been my teacher since I started," he mopped. "It's not fair," he muttered.
Sarah looked at him, slightly shocked hearing her words come out of his mouth. But it was Karen's reaction that drew her attention. The boy's mother began to giggle and then laugh. Both children looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. She waved a hand in the air as she gasped for air, "He sounds like you…."
Sarah shook her head, rolled her eyes and looked at her brother who didn't seem impressed. "Look Toby, you've been taking classes for how long?"
"A year," there was suspicion in the little blue eyes as he answered. "And Mr. Beckets been with me since the start…."
"What got you started?" Sarah leaned back in the kitchen chair, crossed her arms and cross examined her brother with the expertise of their father.
Lips trembled as the mouth dropped on the boy, she had him, and he knew it. "Tommy…"
"Yeah, and I'll bet it had nothing to do with who was going to teach you… " Sarah said wisely. "Look, you've got a class today, why not go in and see what this new guy is like?"
Karen had poured a bowl of the boy's favorite breakfast cereal, and placed it before him. He sniffed, snorted lightly and grumbled. "I'll give him a chance… but I won't like him."
Karen smiled over at Sarah, knowingly.
--
The morning at the paper had been busy, busier than most morning's for Sarah. She was given a camera and told to take shots at the fashion show as they could not spare one of the regular photographers to do the job with her. Sarah got instructions on how to use the camera, and kept her qualms to herself. She moved her things from one desk to another in another section of the building. The woman who had been in charge of the fashion page had retired, leaving an opening that had not been filled for some months; Sarah was moved into her little office. Jeanie Chambers, one of the girls who worked in the paper's secretary pool, had been assigned to assist Sarah with the move. Sarah was glad it was Jeanie as they got on well.
Jeanie looked at the things Mrs. Lancing had left behind her when she'd retired. "This is depressing," she teased Sarah. "I half expect the old gal to pop out of a closet."
Sarah understood Jeanie's slightly disrespectful comments. "Mrs. Lancing was sort of a fixture here," Sarah recalled as she opened a window to air the room out. "I remember my Mother saying that no one had as good an eye for fashion…."
Jeanie shrugged, "Before my time I'm afraid," she took out a note book from her pocket to write down what supplies Sarah would need from the supply room. "I only moved here six months ago when I married Bill. He's the one who grew up here."
Sarah smiled; Bill Chambers had been in school a couple of years ahead of Sarah. He was one of those guys who could not help but be popular, and he did it all; music, sports, academia. He had graduated at the head of his class, gone on to college and was now back in town teaching music at the local grade school. "Bill's lucky to have you," Sarah said softly.
"I'm the lucky one," the girl replied. "I know how popular old Bill was and is…" She sighed looking at the room that had been forgotten in the absence of Mrs. Lancing. "What do you want to do in here?"
"Leave the fashion posters up… I'm going to need them for inspiration… oh and get me the last three articles Lancing wrote, I want to see what her writing style was…." Sarah looked at the little office, barely more than a cubical with a glass wall and door, and a window. "You know," She said to Jeanie softly. "I'll bet it would not be half bad if worked at it."
"Dynamite and a wrecking crew," Jeanie pretended to write on her list. She then looked at her watch. "You'd best get a move on, Sarah; if you're going to make your appointments before the fashion show." She picked up the camera bag that had been issued to Sarah. "Here ya go."
"Hand me that pad of paper too would you Jeanie?" Sarah shouldered the bag.
Grabbing up the pad and a bunch of pencils off the desk Jeanie handed them as well to the girl. "I'll have the office in ship shape when you get back, boss." She teased Sarah gently enjoying that the younger girl was her supervisor.
--
Sarah had put the camera bag and the pad of paper on the passenger's seat; she belted herself in and drove over to the Fencing School, grateful it was on the way over to the huge department store in the heart of town. She was surprised to see a lot of activity at the school thinking that most people took classes at the end of the day. However the parking lot was nearly full, and there was a class being conducted when she entered the lobby. The receptionist looked up at her with a haughty look of condescension.
"May I help you?" the young woman in a blazer that matched Mr. Cortland's.
"Yes, I'm Sarah Williams; I believe my equipment has come in." Sarah said politely holding out her recite
The young woman looked at the recite, arrogantly she pointed toward a door across the lobby. "All equipment is dispensed by the Equipment Master…."
Sarah wondered if everyone was so unfriendly in this school, but knew that Mr. Cortland had been most cordial as had the woman who'd taken her application to join the school. "Thank you," she said formally to the young woman who was for some reason glaring at her. She turned to cross the lobby and tapped on the door, waiting for a moment until she was bid enter. "I'm Sarah Williams, I was told my equipment had come in," she said to the young man behind a counter show case.
"Of course," he said before smiling warmly at her. "I'm David Cortland, Miss Williams," he offered her his hand. He moved with the same grace as his father. "We're very pleased that you are joining us."
"Not everyone," Sarah said looking over her shoulder toward the lobby.
David frowned, "That would be Anise, my cousin…" his voice was apologetic. "She's rather bitter that she was not chosen to go to the Olympic team." He motioned Sarah to follow him. "I took the liberty of packing your fencing bag for you. Everything you've ordered is in here. You are to bring the bag with you, and you can change in the women's locker room. My father said I should give you a locker and here is the number and combination of the lock." He handed her a paper."
Sarah looked at the neatly packed bag, and checked its contents. "Yep, it's all here. Oh about the sword…."
"My father said you would be using a practice foil for now, we supply those until we evaluate the student. And evaluations will be left up to your instructor for now." David informed her pleasantly. "We are really happy to have you join us. Both my father and I see potential in Toby, and with you +here to encourage him… he will do far better." He lifted the bag for her when she zipped it up once more. "I'll carry this out to your car for you, Miss Williams." He offered. As they passed though to the lobby he chatted with her in a friendly fashion to the chagrin of his cousin. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the class this afternoon, it's small and well structured."
"Well it should be an experience," Sarah said as she opened the trunk on her car. "I'll be sure to be here on time."
"A few minutes early if you can manage, it takes time to get into the equipment." He suggested gently. "And you're not use to the protective gear." He shook her hand before returning to the school.
Sarah looked up at the living quarters over the school, and had the strangest feeling she was being watched. "Don't be so paranoid, Sarah." She warned herself as she slid into the driver's seat. "Next thing you know you'll be seeing Goblins in each and every shadow."
--
McKenna's Department store was one of the oldest stores in the town. It had catered to the more well to do in the little town for years. Unlike some of the other towns in the area, Sarah's home town had not fallen on hard times. They had not depended on the coal mines, and when the mines went bust, the town didn't. The claim to fame for Sarah's home town was the wonderful woolens mill and the fine wooden furniture factory. McKenna's offered a full line of the fine furnishings, and woolens. Sarah was well acquainted with the fine store; her mother had never bought her garments from anywhere else while she lived here. Even Karen was a devoted McKenna's shopper.
Sarah parked in a little revered lot set aside for the press who were going to cover this event. She was glad she'd chosen a silky lustrous pants suit in a becoming shade of charcoal, and the soft dusty rose silk blouse. She felt confident and poised, and put on her best cat walk look of self-assured composure. She had pinned a large 'PRESS' button to her lapel and shouldered the camera bag along with a bag that carried her sketch pad. She handed her invitation to one of the greeters and was shown the way to where the press were being stationed. As the room began to fill up, she took a few shots of some of the town's notables.
"Save your film," suggested a hardened journalist from another paper. When Sarah looked at him, he said cattily. "They are not the show…"
"Small town people like to know who attends these affairs," Countered Sarah carefully.
"You're new," the man accused. "And green." He scoffed.
"Hardly on both accounts," Sarah countered not liking the man very much, she went back to taking photos of some of the notables.
Not to be put off the man draped him-self on the chair besides hers. "I'm with the New York Essential," he said in that catty tone. "Perhaps you've heard of me, I'm …"
"Randal C. Drake," Sarah finished for him as she continued to take background shots. "Yes, I know who you are."
"Put down that camera," he ordered coldly. "Let me get a good look at you…" when Sarah gave him a cold glare, he began to tap his fingers on the chair. "I know you, don't I?"
"No," Sarah stated coldly. "You don't."
Drake huffed as she took the seat beside him; he studied the classical line of the young woman's face. "I do know you," he countered. "I just can not place from where…."
Enlightening him was not part of Sarah's plan; she had not liked him the first time she'd laid eyes on him. He had been very nasty about the first time she'd walked a cat walk, and she had no intentions of reminding him. She intended to ignore him, and concentrate on getting the best shots for her article. The lights went down and the music started, Sarah had her pad on her lap and took notes as well as making quick sketches between taking shots of the models on the runway. She also made margin notes in the program that had been given to her. Drake watched with an amused glint in his eyes.
"You don't have to be so serious," he teased at her ear. "This is not New York or Paris…."
"This may not be important to you, Drake… but it's important to the people who live here." She defended as she continued her work.
Chastised and miffed, he sat back to watch the rest of the show.
Sarah didn't like him, she never had. Once the show was over she didn't stay with the rest of the press. She moved quickly out of the building with her sketches, her notes and her photos. She drove back to the office rather than stay for the reception. Once she arrived at the paper she handed her camera over to one of the boys in development, and asked for the photos to be on her desk as soon as possible. The young man was so surprised he offered to have them to her within an hour.
Jeanie ran down to the deli a block away to get Sarah something to eat while she began to work on her word processor with the story of the first fashion show in the local department store. By the time Jeanie returned, Sarah was making edits and placing boxes for pictures. She was going to include some of her sketches. Jeanie looked over her shoulder. "That's really good," she said quietly in the girl's ear. Sarah nodded, nibbling on the chicken salad sandwich that had been put before her. Before the end of the afternoon, Sarah had the article written, edited and presented for printing. Her assistant was pleased to see the shocked faces on the boys down in the printing room. She had gone down to be sure they got the transfers of the files and that they made sure it was Sarah's name on the byline.
--
Toby sat grumbling with Tommy in the back seat of the car. Tommy's mother, Enid Dalton watched the pair from her rear view mirror. She didn't like what she was seeing; both little boys were sullen and cross. "It's not as bad as you two are making it out to be," she warned, her painted lips thinning as she spoke. Her dark brown eyes kept careful watch on the reactions of the imps in the back seat. She was not sure who was the ring leader, her dark haired demon boy or the blond. She pulled the car into the parking lot skillfully, and turned off the engine. "Least you two monsters can do is give the guy a chance." Toby and Tommy both huffed as they hauled the equipment bags out of the trunk. Enid followed the pair into the building. Most afternoons of the lessons she dropped the pair off, and they would walk home together through the park. The Dalton's had lived two blocks away from the Williams since both Tommy and Toby were babies. Before she'd left town, Sarah use to take the tykes to the park to play. Now they pair were inseparable.
Enid gave the young woman at the reception desk a fleeting smile, only to be scowled at. Feeling a decided chill, she moved quickly toward the doors that lead to the area for parents to sit and watch the practices sessions and lessons, while the boys went to the locker room to change into their uniforms and safety equipment. She saw Mr. Cortland and waved to him, he excused himself from the student he had been talking to. He held out his hands to Enid in greeting.
"Enid, how lovely of you to stop in," he greeted her warmly.
"Talbot, I'm not staying long," she firmly gripped the hands holding hers. "I'm sensing trouble with the boys… this business of Mr. Beckets departure…" Her voice was quiet but the warning was clear.
The stately elder released her hands and shook his head. "You are the fifth parent today," he sighed. "I'm wondering if allowing Beckets to train with the Olympics was such a wonderful idea."
"Don't be silly," Enid chided him, "It's an honor that few receive. You can not allow some spoiled little boys to diminish that. Beckets is representing all of us, not just himself, and the boys have to be made to understand that." Movement coming from the coaching room drew her attention. "Is that the new instructor?" she gasped as a tall, lean figure in Cardinal red and black emerged from the chamber carrying an elaborate mask under one arm and a exquisite foil in the other.
Talbot Cortland gave her reaction to the stunning man an amused grin. "Yes, Enid…would you like me to introduce you?"
"Please." She whispered as she nodded in a dazed state.
Cortland made a gesture and the tall blond man whose hair was tied by and looked sculpted, approached. "Enid Dalton, this is Master Dé Danann of the Royal Academy, our guest instructor. Master Dé Danann, Mrs. Enid Dalton, the mother of one of your younger students."
Graciously the elegant man bowed to her; "Madam, a pleasure."
"Sir," she blushed madly, and placed a hand to her throat. "I think I'll just leave the boys in your… capable hands." Still blushing Enid beat a hasty retreat.
Cortland snickered, "You must get that reaction fairly often."
"From some," Master Dé Danann admitted freely. "One of the hazards of being so devastatingly handsome, I'm afraid," he quipped.
Cortland chuckled aloud, "And so modest too." He moved with the younger master to the center of the practice area. "Your students will be joining you shortly."
Master Dé Danann moved to the mat, placed his mask on and began to do a few warm up exercises. He was in the process of warming up as his young students emerged from their locker room. They watched the graceful movements with wide eyed awe, before moving closer in a huddled group. The master finished a thrusting lung, and gracefully came upright. He turned to the boys, mask still in place. "Gentlemen," he greeted them cordially, "Shall we begin?" Ten little heads all nodded speechlessly.
--
Sarah was aware of the gathering of females in the lobby, mothers of students who were in Toby's class. She would have taken time to speak to them had she not been in a rush to get into her gear. Instead of finding out what they were gossiping over, she headed toward the women's locker room and found herself alone in the space. She removed her street garments, replacing them with the protective uniform and shoes. She stored her bag in the roomy locker she'd been assigned. She looked at herself in the mirror just before she left the locker room, and snorted her own approval. It had been several years since she'd worn anything like this, not that she would ever admit it.
The lesson room was nearly empty; she could see Toby on the mat along with someone dressed in a very flamboyant uniform. It was a far cry from even the coaching uniform that Cortland wore. Cortland wore the traditional white with black protective pieces. This man, and there was no mistaking that it was a man, wore bright Cardinal red over black pencil legged sleek Lycra fabric leggings that had a sewn razor sharp crease. Nothing about this striking figure smacked of ordinary. His movements were fluid, and poetic, his style was unique and irreplaceable. After teaching a class of ten little boys for an hour and a half, he didn't even seem winded. As if sensing her approach, he turned swiftly, causing the girl to gasp.
His voice was slightly muffled by his mask, but in a crisp British accent he addressed her. "Miss Williams, I presume?"
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sarah nodded. "Yes, sir." She could feel the unseen eyes observing and scrutinize her ever move.
"Let us proceed." He said motioning Toby off the mat. Guardedly he waited until she'd put on her mask and picked up the practice foil that had been provided for her. "Let us see just what we have to work with…" He brought his foil up and saluted her, "En garde. Prêt. Allez," he challenged.
Sarah gasped as he made a lung, and had but a split second to react, she deflected the foil thrust at her and moved back as her free hand moved into a balancing position.
Cortland who'd taken a seat on the bench beside Toby frowned. He had informed the guest master that the girl was a novice, and yet neither she nor the master seemed to be adhering to the protocol. Cortland leaned forward, observing.
Just beyond the lesson room, watching from the outer door was David and his cousin, she sneered quietly saying the new fencing master would make mince meat of the girl. David was not so sure.
"Again," barked the man in scarlet as he lunged watching the girl react.
"I'm not ready," she companied and yet deflected the second thrust and a third as well.
Cortland called out to her, "I thought you said you'd not taken lessons before."
"I didn't," Sarah growled as she focused on the man advancing toward her.
"Liar," the masked foe accused, while he changed his attack. The girl moved defensively and deflected his blade with ease. Pulling back to regroup, he moved again, and again the girl deflected his advance. "Novice my foot," he accused. "She moves like an apprentice of a weapons master," the man called out to Cortland.
"William Hobbs," suggested the man sitting beside Toby.
"No…." the masked foe said curtly. "Someone better," he thrust again and when the girl moved he barked out. "Knable!" Sarah dropped her sword, it fell from her fingers, and she ripped off her mask. The man in red looked down at the fallen blade, "Pick that up and put back your mask," he ordered harshly.
"No," Sarah said defiantly.
"I've no wish to mark such a pretty face," the man softened only slightly before ordering her once more. "Put on your mask." He added curtly. "I've not finished my evaluation."
Sarah backed away, "I'm finished." She turned to go to the locker room, but a black gloved hand gripped her arm. Sarah could feel the heat pour off the man who was preventing her from escaping. "Please, I don't want to get Roy in trouble…" she begged softly.
"Trouble," the masked man whispered back.
Sarah nodded, "He wasn't supposed to be teaching me… he was hired to be the weapon's master of this stupid Movie of the Week thing my mother was in… I was on the set… and he was bored… I was bored…" She was shaking. "I promised I'd never tell…"
The gloved hand ran like silk up her arm. "So rather than rat him out, you said you were a novice?" When she shook her head, he taunted her. "A noble but futile attempt;" he gripped her arm again. "Never lie to a Master, Miss Williams," he moved closer. "We will over look it this time… Now pick up your sword, and put on your mask. Let us see how well you learned." He stepped back, the girl obeyed him and the face behind the mask smiled a hidden smile. He brought his foil up and saluted her, "En garde. Prêt. Allez," he challenged again.