Chapter Eight

Elizabeth had long fought against her nature. She had trained herself to swallow her instincts, to wait many seconds before acting, and to take as many deep breaths as possible. It was not only how she survived, but how she was able to help. Spend enough time in self-loathing and you can achieve anything.

Seeing Mary, though, Elizabeth couldn't control herself. She began to lunge across the room and, due to a deep inhale at the last second, was able to turn her lethal attack into a hard slap in the face.

Mary just laughed.

"Oh Elizabeth. Still so angry, even now?"

Elizabeth was too busy seething with rage to respond. She was quietly counting and taking deep breaths and, for a brief moment, remembering the way her son used to smile. It helped.

"I'm sorry. That was rash of me."
"Not need to apologize, love. It's nice to see you show some emotion, for once. Nice to see you have some, what do they say? Moxie."

Mary laughed at this, and Elizabeth felt that if she could blush she would be deep red. Women like Mary had always rubbed Elizabeth the wrong way, always been contrary to how she was, with gossip and parties and...conniving. And with Mary had done--possibly was still doing...and yet, Elizabeth still felt like a tormented schoolgirl.

"You know why I'm here," Elizabeth managed to get out.
"I do indeed. I heard it on the radio. A tragedy, of course. But it's not surprising given the life she lead. The only strange thing is that she didn't die in a bomb attack or by a Nazi bullet. She would have liked that better. It would have been more noble."

"Is that why she did it?" thought Elizabeth. "To deny her of a noble death."

"Look," said Mary "There's no need for us to pretend we're old friends. You're here because you think I had a hand in this and I know I can't convince you otherwise, at least not right now. So how about I fetch you a cup of tea and we talk?"

Tea. The thought made Elizabeth nausea and from the smirk on Mary's face--the cruelty behind the most benign gestures--she knew that didn't hide it well.

"So you're saying you're not responsible?"
"Heavens, no! I think I have better things to think about these days. More lofty aspirations."
"But we both saw--we both saw her. And him. It would be...understandable, Mary." She didn't add "It would be only human."

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. No idea at all."

Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip and sighed. This was going badly. She had started too aggressive and the conversation was shot to hell.

"I think I better go, Mary. I have someone who will be worried about me."
"Oh? So soon back in town and you have someone? You won't stay for just a cup of tea? Some old friends to catch up?"
"No, I think it's best that I go. I don't want to keep you all morning, not with all your lofty aspirations to deal with."

The last bit was too snide. Elizabeth regretted saying it immediately, but if the damage was done, Mary's face showed no sign of it.

"Well, you must stop by again--let's say tomorrow, for dinner? You can bring this new someone."
"I...I really don't want to impose."
"Nonsense, Betsy, it would be a gift."

Elizabeth cringed at the nickname, but knew when she was bested.

"Alright then, dinner tomorrow."
"Excellent. I shall expect you at 7pm sharp."

After a few more pleasantries, Elizabeth was opening the door when Mary, leading her out gave her parting shot.

"Oh, and Betsy, I can't begin tell you how sorry I am for the loss of your son. he was such a sweet little boy and I miss him terribly. When I heard the news....dreadful, the war was. Dreadful."

With that, and her smirk, she closed the door.

"What a god damned insufferable cow" Elizabeth screamed inside her head. "What I wouldn't do to rip her throat and dry her out completely." And dreaming of violence and revenge--and dreading tomorrow--she walked back to Bishops in the shadows.