Chapter 19: No Reference

Kendrick's POV

On Monday I put on my one good suit and went to look for work.

The first house was a big stone place on the river road.

The housekeeper there took my reference letter at the door and read it standing up.

"Twelve years at Aldercott," she said. "That's a long time."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Mrs. Aldercott's secretary telephoned an hour ago."

She folded the letter and handed it back to me.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ferrow. We won't be needing anyone."

The second house said the same thing, and the third.

The manager of the Hudson Club kept me in the hall for four minutes.

He told me the position had been filled that morning, and he didn't meet my eye.

I walked back to the village with my letter in my breast pocket.

Constance Aldercott had never raised her voice in her life.

She didn't need to.

She had picked up a telephone, and a valley that had known me for twelve years had stopped knowing me.

I stood across from the hardware store and looked up at my window.

It would have been easy to be angry, and I found I was only tired.

My phone rang in my pocket.

It was a hotel in Newport, Rhode Island, whose manager had never heard of Constance Aldercott.

"A friend says you're the best steward on the Hudson," he said.

"Head of house, a staff of nine. Can you start on the first?"

"The first of next month?"

"Yes."

"That's nine days."

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