Chapter 10 – Lessons in Logic

Jon didn't nap an hour. He woke up an hour before lunch, feeling closer to human. He deliberately went through his normal morning routine, washing up and shaving, and took care to pick out some nicer clothes. After all, he had to go see a lady about a lady.

He came down and had his lunch with his uncle. Neither one discussed the earlier… business. He checked his own purse and determined he had plenty for round-trip cab fare. Normally he would have walked, but he didn't want to push things today. It was over ten blocks each way, and he could use the extra rest time.

THEE MADAM FROUT ACADEMY the sign said. And in smaller letters below Learning through Fun. Jon groaned. He knew people like that. They thought that being a baker 'must be jolly good fun don'cher know my good man' and then went on about the importance of a well rounded education and how work must be so enjoyable or so many people wouldn't be doing so much of it. Learning through fun. Well, unfortunately most of his life had been learning through working his buttocks off from a young age. He shook his head, wishing he had gotten more sleep. Maybe then he'd be more charitable about it.

Once inside, he asked for Miss Susan and waited. After a few minutes, the assistant told him that Madame Frout wished to speak with him. He was ushered into her office, where she sat behind a desk.

She looked up as he entered, and it was all he could do not to take his hat in his hands.

Madam Frout was not nobility by any stretch, but she'd rubbed elbows and interacted with the scions of upper crust for enough years that some of the mannerisms had rubbed off. And those hit certain nerves marked 'show respect' and 'be deferential'. It wasn't that she was sneering at him, or even trying to put him in any sort of 'place'. But he was sure she would call him 'my good man' or something similar.

"Ah, Mister… Knäcke is it? Yes. Please do have a seat." She smiled a bit nervously which was surprising.

"Thank you Madam, I wasn't really expecting to inconvenience the headmistress of the school. I was hoping to see if Miss S-"

"Yes yes, but Miss Susan is in the midst of lessons." She actually shuddered a tiny bit. Then smiled again. "We wouldn't want to interrupt the growing of little minds, would we?"

Jon began to seriously reassess his expectations of Madam Frout. She seemed nervous, even, and her hand kept moving toward a drawer of her desk, then she would glance down at it and draw it back to the desktop.

"Of course not." She answered her own question. "So, we have a few minutes to spend while we wait for Miss Susan." She took a breath, "So tell me, if you would be so kind, how long have you known Miss Susan? She doesn't get many visitors at the school and I am always eager to know more about our little family. We do consider our instructors part of the family you know." Jon found himself mesmerized, nodding his head, while inside he was thinking. Ah yes, family, and that's why you know nothing about her I expect. Yes indeed.

Outside he said "I'm sure you know Miss Susan much better than I do. I only know her… through a… a mutual acquaintance." Madam Frout looked disappointed.

"Oh, that is a shame. So you are here on their behalf then."

Hah. "Yes Madam. She seemed to be looking for a polite way to pry further, but she had already gone outside her comfort zone, and he wasn't about to volunteer any more information. He suspected, rightly he hoped, that Susan would not appreciate him sharing her personal doings with Madam Frout, "little family" or not.

The next few minutes were uncomfortable. Madam Frout tried to make polite conversation, but her heart really wasn't in it. He spent most of the time making noncommittal noises to her ineffective attempts to get the conversation back onto Susan without actually asking any questions. Finally the assistant returned.

"Madam Frout, Miss Susan is available to speak with Mister Knäcke." Both Jon and Frout were visibly relieved as he was escorted to the hall outside the classrooms.

This was a new experience for Jon. He had never attended a formal school, so had no idea what to expect. The children were milling about from room to room, apparently on some sort of break, and spilling out into the inner courtyard babbling happily and sticking various digits in various orifices. It made him want to wash his hands just being in the same space. The assistant stopped before one open door, motioning him onward.

If he had thought the atmosphere in the halls a bit strange, this bordered on the bizarre. He knew that this was not how children acted. He turned back to the assistant and whispered "I thought you said they were on a break."

She looked embarrassed. Yes Mr. Knäcke, this is what they do on the breaks sir, in Miss Susan's class."

"You mean she makes them sit quietly reading and," he peeked again, "drawing is it?"

The assistant shook her head, "Sir, if you please, it's not my place to say." and quickly made her way back down the hall.

Jon turned back to the room, and Susan was looking at him, with one eyebrow arched and a face that was equal parts amusement and impatience. "Mr. Knäcke, do come in."

All eyes were on him. It was just a classroom, complete with crayon self portraits and the obligatory classroom pets and a slight smell of wax and excited incontinence. But it was also, in a very real way, Susan's domain. He could actually feel it. And understood why the assistant had not come in, and why Madam Frout was slightly nervous about her as well. He imagined walking into a dragon's own lair would feel somewhat like this.

She smiled at him, or at least she showed her teeth at him. "Mr. Knäcke, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Ah… yes… I was wondering if you had a few minutes to spare. I had some… questions to ask." He was aware of more than a dozen eyes boring into his back. It couldn't be normal, how quiet they were. "I had understood you were on a break."

"Yes. The class is just engaged in some free learning." She looked over his shoulder and sighed. Yes Vincent?"

"Ooo oooo Miss Susan can I tell him about the story I'm reading?"

Susan closed her eyes for a moment. "As much as I'm sure he would appreciate hearing about 'Five Years in the Klatchian Desert', I do not believe we have time for a summary at this moment Vincent."

She stood up, and the children didn't move, but he could feel their attention standing, as it were, to attention. Wow.

"Now, I am going to discuss some matters with Mr. Knäcke. While I am gone…Gordon, you will be in charge until I return." Jon thought the boy in question would explode with importance.

Susan led the way out the hall and past Madam Frout's office. He was sure he saw the door opened a crack. The assistant studiously ignored them both. Outside, they walked silently a half block.

"So," Susan said. "I expect you have some questions, and perhaps some answers of your own though they may not be the right ones."

Right to the point. "Yes."

A few more steps.

"And those would be?"

Where to start? The more personal or the more immediate?

"Mr. Knäcke." She had stopped and was favoring him with a look that she probably used on her students when they couldn't decide whether they knew the answer or not. "I do have a class to get back to. If it wasn't for the fact that I suspect some of what you are going through, I would have sent you off and had you come back after hours. I am not going to work both halves of the conversation, you understand, so please. Do start."

No one could resist the pressure of that look. "Miss Susan, wha… who is Myria? Really?"

Susan almost looked impressed. "You almost allowed yourself to say it. I would applaud you, but I'm really not in the mood." He deflated a little further. "Oh don't start that, I'm not in my most sympathetic right now and it's not your fault, so don't take it personally." She paused. "You started with the difficult question, which gives me some hope for you." She lost some of her sternness. "And it really is a hard question to answer. I'm not just being vague to be vague."

She turned and they walked a few more steps.

"Myria is… one of a kind. And I am not being soppy or silly. I mean it."

He stopped. "So you are saying she isn't –" Susan held up her hand, interrupting him, and turned to face him again.

"I'm choosing to believe that because you are here, you've made up your mind already. You understand that. I'm not a people person, but I consider myself a good judge of character." She paused again. "So if you are planning to run screaming down the street, by all means get it over with now."

"You are not exactly filling me with confidence that I'm going to like the answers."

"It's not my job to fill you with confidence, and I don't believe in telling fairy tales." her tone matter of fact. She looked over his shoulder at someone across the street. "My what a coincidence! There's Myria right now."

He turned quickly looking for her, then turned back confused. "What was that?"

"Do you know, you actually started to smile as you turned? Your entire demeanor went from nervous and unsure to pleased in a half second. I believe that says quite clearly where your head is, don't you?"

Jon tensed. "That was not… nice at all."

Susan was not smiling. "Mr. Knäcke, as I said, I am not a people person. And right now, for reasons that are none of your business, I am definitely not in the mood to delve into the details of your relationship with Lady Myria LeJean. You will forgive me if I chose to assure myself this way instead of spending the next half hour trying to drag it out of you." And wanting to throw up the whole time… Susan was being bitchy, and she knew it, and she cared, sort of, but it was hard to feel sorry for Myria right now.

"Now, back to your question. Myria is more or less as she appears to be. You don't have to worry about her changing into anything strange." I hope. "She is a Lady, most definedly. And she is human, more or less."

He peered at her. "And what is the 'more or less'?"

"Exactly that. In some ways she is more than human. And in others she is quite lacking."

He was nodding despite himself. "Ok, yes. That does describe her well. She is fragile too, more than I imagined. I've had to be very careful and… flexible regarding things."

"I trust you have been keeping an open mind."

"How could I not?" And he proceeded to describe the situation with the mostly empty house, and the wild swings in emotion, and the night terrors."

"Ah yes, she had mentioned that to me as well. And I think she had one when we were… traveling yesterday."

"Yes, that is one of the problems. She is absolutely out of her mind at the idea of sleeping in a room by herself. And I can't see a way to – "

"Mr. Knäcke, are you going to tell me something that will upset me? Because I will not react well."

He was shocked. "Miss Susan I have behaved like a gentleman… " he reconsidered, "within reason. That is why I am concerned." He reddened, enough of this… Susan dropped this in his lap, he was damned if he was going lose potential help because he tiptoed around it. "I've seen what she's like. It's like hell itself has been after her when she wakes at night. She needs someone to be in the room, to calm her. That's all." Susan nodded. "And there are issues with that, as you know. There's not enough room at the bakery, and I can't be seen spending nights at Kings Way. It would… you know better than I do. What would happen?

Susan was thoughtful. "Hmm. Yes it would not be pretty. Society ladies can be a rather nasty lot when they feel the norms are not being kept up, and that would be a juicy tidbit." She turned it around in her head, and frowned. "No, it would be worse than that. They would ostracize her as having money but no breeding." That seemed to make her angry.

"So do you have any ideas? I don't know enough about how bad this can get to know what will work and what won't. I don't know how long she will be like this either."

"Well, the question is, do you care? She could stop being 'Lady LeJean'. Frankly I suspect she would be happy being something simpler."

"No. No, I don't believe that. She is not as, flexible, as you may think. It would require her becoming a different kind of person and I don't think that would be good for her right now. It's not easy being a tradesman, for example with the more posh looking down their noses at you. No offense meant."

She raised an eyebrow. "None taken. And it's not easy being a society lady either. It has its own pressures for someone who cares what people think of them. But you may be right. So. How do we allow you to be her, chaperone as it were, without a chaperone and without scandalizing the entire neighborhood?"

In the end, it came down to several options. The first, which was almost immediately discarded, was to have him 'hired' as a servant at the house. While this would explain his presence at all hours, he found the idea distasteful. And they both agreed that Myria would be hard-pressed to keep up the appropriate appearances in public.

The second, which they considered more seriously was to have him move in as a simple guest. This might have worked had he been from farther away, but considering his home and business was less than a half hour walk away, it would lead to the obvious conclusions. The "Lady" was having an open tryst with a tradesman. Oh the horror.

Finally they settled on the idea of a 'prestigious live-in chef'. On the positive side, she really did need to hire at least a few servants both from a security and an appearances standpoint. She could not have your typical chambermaid, they would be too close and see too much. But they could have some servants during the day to clean and maintain the grounds. That would help.

And he would not technically be a 'servant' or at least it could be explained that way. And his live-in status could be explained as the Lady's eccentricities* for late-night dining and freshly-made dishes. And as long as his pay was commensurate with his supposed status as 'prestigious', some familiarity in public could also be explained away.

There were of course a few problems with this. The biggest was, Jon was not a chef, he was a baker. An excellent baker, with a reputation for creativity and excellence among his clientele, but a baker is not a chef. After some argument back and forth, they decided they would just chalk this up to the lady's special dietary needs.

"You know, I'm actually starting to enjoy this. It's quite the little challenge isn't it?"

Jon shook his head. "It's not as fun looking at it from the inside, but don't mind me. Without your experience, I would be lost here."

So, there might be rumors, probably would be rumors, but it wouldn't be blatant. Strangely, people would probably forgive a presumed tryst, if there was plausible deniability. Not only forgive it, some would nod their heads knowingly and in approval. The most amusing part of all this was, despite appearances, there would in fact be nothing untoward going on.

Susan looked uncomfortable for the first time in the conversation. "I do need to make sure you understand something. And I don't want to know anything about your… relationship. Are we clear? So I just need you to listen and accept. Under no circumstances are you to allow Myria to… do anything inappropriate for an unmarried woman." She looked even more uncomfortable, seemed to reach a decision. "You've seen what happens when she experiences…" Argh. "intense… experiences." She shook her head. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He nodded. "I do. I would not do anything that would harm her, and I believe I understand the risks, though I still don't understand why."

"Later. Later we can talk again." She took a breath. "So back to less mortal matters, we seem to have settled the question of living accommodations, at least for now. Our dear Lady Myria LeJean will be the only society lady to have a very prestigious and professional live-in che.. oh very well, baker, one of the best on Small Gods. Which, incidentally will take some pressure off your bakery's finances." He had not considered that, but it fit nicely as well. "I consider that nicely wrapped up. Shall we go back? I'm sure my class is missing my firm hand on the tiller by now."

"Ah, well there is one more issue." And you didn't really answer my questions about Myria's past, but save that for another time.

"Oh?"

He lowered his voice. "How do I change a gold bar into A-M dollars?"

She stopped abruptly, then grabbed him by the sleeve and practically dragged him back to the school. Entering the classroom, the children were still engrossed in their activities, though there were doubtless greasy fingerprints around the lock to "the cupboard". Children are children after all.

"Class, I have a special treat for you, you will all take 15 minutes and play out in the courtyard." This did not have the desired effect.

"But I wanted to finish my book Miss Susan." "Do we have to?" "Is it because of the visitor?" "Are we being punished?" "Miss Susan, I have a report of who got up when you were out." That last one drew some dirty looks, but there you go.

"Take your book with you Vincent. Yes you do Penelope. None of your concern Jason. Not yet you aren't Melanie. Please leave the report on my desk and ALL CHILDREN WILL GO TO PLAY NOW."

Ten seconds to clear the room. He'd had to fight the urge to follow them out.

She rounded on him. She hated using the voice in the classroom. It felt like cheating. And now she was unhappy with him because of it.

"Close the door."

"Look I –" The look she gave him was… uncanny. He was at the door and back with it swinging to before he realized what he was doing.

"Have you gone completely mental? You don't even mention money with that many zeros in this city."

"I know! I mean I know but I don't know. Look, I have no idea what I'm doing here. That's why I'm asking you, so please stop yelling!"

In point of fact neither of them were yelling. Oh the tone was there, but the volume levels were somewhere in the range of "mushrooms screaming". If you've never heard people screaming in a whisper, it's quite amusing to watch. It made their throats hurt but some things just need doing.

"Why do you need to do this? Doesn't she have…ohhhh…" Of course she didn't. The Auditors wouldn't make money, because that was a human thing to do. They would go to the logical extreme. Humans needed money, but money was just a representation of value. And what was more valuable than gold? So of course, they would just create gold.

He explained about the furnishings at Kings Way, and Susan actually placed her face in her hands. Unbelievable. Of course Myria would not have seen the point in furnishing rooms she didn't use. Another problem to manage, but it could be done with money.

"Hold on, how much of... the item, does she have?"

He used his hands to frame out the size of the bar, which was currently screaming "steal me steal me" in the safe back at the bakery. Susan shook her head. She had never really needed a lot of money, and like most denizens of Ankh-Morpork these days, she just kept it locked up at home. With the guilds working they way they did, as long as you were paid up with the Thieves Guild, you didn't have to worry much about being robbed in your home. The Guild had the tendency to recover funds taken improperly and return them to you… after they had washed the remains of the late thief off them.

But there were limits. Several tens of thousands of AM dollars worth of pure gold was somewhere in the stratosphere above that limit. For that kind of gold, a sizable chunk of the city's population would risk the Thieves Guild's ire, including many members of the guild themselves.

"Jon I don't know the first thing about handling that amount of… that item. But, I suspect some of my students' parents will."

"So you think you can help."

"I can try, but it won't be today. I assume there are ways, but frankly the wealthy here don't move things like that as far as I've ever seen, they just seem to sit on it and it multiplies." It was a mystery she'd found uninteresting, since most of her needs and desires… well normality is not something you buy, and it certainly doesn't come with more money.

"Thank you. Miss Susan, you've been a good friend to Myria."

"Yes, I suppose I have. It may become a habit I could live with. Just try not to get all gooey on me."

He didn't laugh, because she didn't seem to be joking. Susan, he thought, you are more like Myria than you let on, aren't you?

She turned and actually glared at him. "I know what you are thinking, and you can stop it right now. I like you, but I don't need to be analyzed."

Outside, he reflected how he'd managed to confuse apologies and thanks into a meaningless mush, somehow ended up with a loan of one hundred A-M dollars, and hailed a cab back to the bakery.

Later that evening, as Susan stewed over how annoying relationships were (especially when other people were getting them) she had a nasty thought. How had Myria paid for the house at Kings Way? And her stay at that hotel? How would an Auditor think?

"Damn, it's probably too late…"

*Eccentricities are like quirks, but for the wealthy.