The Woman Who Fell From Grace by David Handler Page A

proud, classical.” I also couldn’t help thinking if she had a horse to kick, she’d do it less to people.
    “I never go near them. I was thrown by one as a girl. Rather badly — I broke my collarbone.”
    “I’d have thought you’d climb right back up.”
    “People often say that to me, mistakenly. It’s not that I am afraid. Fear doesn’t enter into it.”
    “What does?”
    “A horse failed me, Hoagy. Failure is a habit. I don’t believe in giving in to it.” She started up the motor and revved it. “I’m terribly upset about Fern. Such a loyal, dependable friend. Irreplaceable, as well. I’ve spent the entire afternoon on the phone with a host of agencies trying to find someone who can take over for her. They’ve checked Southampton, Palm Beach, Pasadena. No one seems available anywhere right now. I can’t imagine why.” She let out a long sigh. Then she turned the tiniest bit schoolgirlish on me. “Actually, that’s not true. I can . I don’t know how to lie to you. I wonder why. Perhaps because you’re not afraid of me.”
    “Why should I be afraid of you?”
    “The truth,” she confessed, “is that I am not considered a desirable employer. I am too hard on people.”
    A car came zipping up the drive from the gate. Charlotte in her red LeMans. She stopped beside us and rolled down her window and handed me the zippered canvas portfolio with Alma’s diary in it. Before I could thank her she’d floored it and was off for the house.
    “Interesting woman,” I observed. “I understand her father —”
    “Franklin Neene was a weakling,” Mavis snapped.
    “Still, you must have felt pretty awful about what happened.”
    “Why should I? I didn’t tell him to climb into his car and shut the garage door: I didn’t tell him to give up. That was his decision. His cowardice . Only a coward quits on life.”
    “It’s true, you know.”
    She gave me her frozen smile. “I’m glad we see things —”
    “You are too hard on people.”
    Her eyes flashed at me. “I can’t help being who I am. I’ve tried to be easygoing, accommodating. Someone who has lots of friends to laugh with, confide in. Someone who isn’t so … isolated … ” She looked away uncomfortably. “It’s not in my nature. A person must be true to his or her nature. I simply cannot tolerate weakness. There’s no place for it in my life — with one notable exception, of course. We all have our flaws. Richard happens to be mine. I’m afraid we can’t all be lucky in love.”
    “Careful. You’ll spoil what few illusions I have left.”
    “Maybe the reason you’re not afraid of me,” she suggested, “is that you don’t give a damn.”
    “Maybe the reason I’m not afraid of you is that I do .”
    She narrowed her eyes at me challengingly. “You puzzle me, Hoagy. I’d like to get to the bottom of you.”
    “Careful, I’m semispoken for.”
    “I meant,” she said sharply, “I’d like to figure out what makes you tick.”
    “Feel free. And let me know if you do — it would be nice to know myself after all these years.
    The sky was becoming dark and threatening now, the air raw. Rain wasn’t far off.
    Mavis looked up at the clouds and shivered. “I never learned how to cook. At Mother’s insistence — she feared I’d be made a slave to some man. Thank goodness Charlotte volunteered to make little Gordie dinner tonight.”
    “Will she tuck him into bed, too?”
    “Gordie is a very, very lucky boy,” she pointed out.
    “I’m sure he reminds himself of that on a daily basis.” I tugged at my ear. “I happen to know a gifted, mature woman who has managed several prominent British estates. Hasn’t got a weak bone in her body. Also happens to be quite discreet.” As well as a born ferret for inside information, and just what I needed right now. “If my friend Pamela’s available, you couldn’t do any better.”
    Mavis pursed her lips. “I know Richard would adore having a fellow countrywoman. …