Slapping Her Out of Her Delusion novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Dinner for Twelve

On Tuesday my mother sent a card down to the boathouse, written in her own hand.

Dinner at eight. Mr. Aldercott's partners. Attend, or do not come Friday.

I went in the grey dress.

Twelve places were laid in the dining room under the good candles.

My father's chair at the head stood empty, with its black ribbon.

Gwen sat on my mother's right in a cream silk dress that had once been my mother's, and Preston sat beside her.

I had been put at the far corner, between a partner's wife who was deaf and a partner who was drunk.

Kendrick poured the wine.

He kept his eyes on the glasses and his back very straight, and he did not look at me once.

My mother, I noticed, watched him all through the soup.

She had said nothing to me about any video, which meant she had already seen it.

Over the fish, Gwen set down her fork and touched her napkin to her lips.

"I hope you'll all forgive me for saying this," she said. "I only think a house is judged by how it treats the people who serve it."

The partners murmured.

"My mother has served this family for twenty-four years," Gwen went on. "I've always thought the kindest thing in the world is to remember a servant's name, and say thank you."

"Hear, hear," said the drunk partner, and drank.

"Beautifully said, darling," my mother murmured.

I looked at Gwen's cheek.

The bruise I had given her was gone.

The under-maid came round with the sauce boat.

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