Chapter 46 Geraldine
Geraldine
The evening was not a success—it had to be said.
The moon was bright and almost full overhead as the vehicle purred along under Calvin’s expert guidance.
They had placed an inebriated Vivian in the back seat with the help of a pair of waiters from the club.
As soon as the vehicle had gotten underway, she had promptly fallen into a deep sleep, the distinctly unladylike snores emanating from her completely obliterating the sound of road noise as the tires ground against the pavement.
Marjorie had heroically offered to sit in the back and keep an eye on her should she awaken.
No one spoke, for there was not much to say.
The more Geraldine thought of it, the more she kicked herself for having agreed to the outing.
Marjorie certainly had not had the experience she had hoped to have; she just kept repeating over and over her concern that her husband would hear of it.
As for Calvin, he had taken the whole thing stoically.
While Geraldine was quite certain he had found the situation embarrassing in the extreme, Calvin had continued to perform like a champion servant, stiff upper lip and all.
She was certain the incident would end up in at least the local newspaper.
She had no idea how long it would take to come to the public’s attention, but she was certain it would happen soon.
Vivian Shaw was known for creating drama on movie sets, and there should have been no reason to expect her to do otherwise in her personal life.
Rumors had abounded for ages about Vivian’s drinking, but Geraldine preferred not to pay attention to common gossip.
After all, some of the things said about her both in the press and behind closed doors were not things she would want others to believe either.
Although, considering the way things had turned out, she had to give a lot more credence to the rumors than she would have before that evening.
She wondered once again if Vivian had been at the resort in an attempt to dry out.
From the way that Vivian had been knocking back drinks like someone thirsting to death who had happened upon a desert oasis, Geraldine suspected that was indeed the truth of the matter.
If only she had known, she never would have agreed to put Marjorie in such jeopardy.
She had simply thought it would be a lark to accompany Marjorie on a bit of an adventure.
The poor thing had gone entirely pale as she tried to hold her head high and exit the building with the cheers of the other patrons ringing in her ears.
The band striking up a popular drinking number hadn’t helped matters either.
She was lost in her thoughts, her eyes slightly unfocused, when she felt Calvin stomp heavily on the brakes.
She glanced through the windshield and could not quite comprehend what she was seeing.
Before she could make sense of any of it, Calvin had leaped from behind the wheel and run out into the road.
There, in the beam of the car headlights, she could see him removing his jacket and draping it over the shoulders of a bedraggled-looking young woman.
To her shock, she realized that she was looking at Cynthia.
She pushed open her door and hurtled out of the vehicle despite her protesting knees.
“What on earth has happened to you?” she asked as she came alongside the pair.
Cynthia’s hair was almost entirely released from its bobby pins and, like the rest of her, was soaking wet. She smelled of lake water and was not wearing any shoes. From the look on her face, she was suffering from shock.
“Will you just take me home?” Cynthia said softly between the chattering of her teeth.
Calvin hugged her to his side, then bent and scooped her into his arms.
“Do you mean back to the Maine Chance?” Geraldine asked.
Cynthia nodded, but it looked as though it took enormous effort to do so. “I just want to go to bed.”
Geraldine could hear Calvin murmuring to the poor girl as he carried her to the car and placed her in the front seat.
Somehow Cynthia managed to slide into the center, and Calvin and Geraldine returned to their positions, flanking her.
Geraldine wrapped an arm over Cynthia’s shoulders and pulled her in close.
She could feel the girl shivering, but whether it was from cold or from strong emotion, she could not say.
Calvin glanced over again and again as he barreled along the road, eager to get back to the resort without delay.
The swampy smell of the lake filled the vehicle, and Geraldine was certain something deeply troubling had occurred.
Cynthia was not the sort to simply jump into the lake in a pretty frock on a whim.
From what she had said about her family, she had not been raised with such wealth that the cost of a dress would be of no consequence to her.
Calvin slowed to a stop along the access road near where he had picked them up several hours before.
Once again, he peered over the top of Cynthia’s head as if asking Geraldine what should be done.
She had no idea other than to be certain Cynthia should not be left alone.
She widened her eyes as if to say she had no notion of how to proceed.
Calvin bobbed his head and exited the vehicle, indicating Geraldine should join him.
Cynthia remained in the front seat as if she could not quite summon the energy to exit it without assistance. Geraldine glanced to the back seat, where Marjorie looked stricken. She reached forward and patted Cynthia on the shoulder, causing the girl to jump.
“I think the best thing to do would be to take her to Iris,” Calvin said in a low voice.
“That seems an entirely sensible idea. You don’t think it will cost her job, though, do you?” Geraldine asked.
“Of course not. None of this is Cynthia’s fault.” He looked back at the car, fury clouding his usually genial face. “I had better not hear otherwise.”
Geraldine was not sure about that. In her experience, women were held to an entirely different standard than men about the way they comported themselves even on their own time.
That said, it was obvious that she needed tending to, and her employer was surely functioning as a mother figure during Cynthia’s time at the farm.
“You go ahead and take her to Iris. Marjorie and I will get Vivian settled in her own room,” Geraldine said.
Calvin darted a glance at the back seat of the car and then looked back at her. “Are you sure you can manage her? It took two waiters to wrestle her out of the club.”
“If we can’t manage her, we’ll leave her in the car. She should be safe enough there as she sleeps it off. The back seat is spacious, and it’s a mild evening,” Geraldine said.
She decided leaving her would be the best idea of all.
If they tried to lead her inside, she might rouse the whole household.
Geraldine could just imagine the glowering glances they would all end up receiving from the upright society matrons who thought little enough of Hollywood types to begin with.
She certainly wouldn’t want to put Marjorie in a bad position with them.
The poor woman didn’t need her husband to have any more cause to criticize her.
Calvin nodded and leaned into the car, offering his hands to Cynthia.
She moved slowly, the sound of her wet clothing squeaking across the leather seat.
Geraldine wondered fleetingly if it would leave a watermark that could not be removed from the handsome leather upholstery.
She hoped that Calvin would not end up suffering for their outing.
Once again, she kicked herself for having agreed to attend such an event.
She watched as Calvin wrapped an arm around Cynthia once more and helped propel her towards the staff house.
She waited until they were out of sight before motioning for Marjorie to join her outside of the vehicle.
She closed the door quietly behind her like someone who was used to shutting a nursery door in such a way as to not wake a sleeping child.
“Calvin has taken Cynthia off to be tended to by the housekeeper.”
“What do you think happened to that poor girl?” Marjorie asked.
“I think she was out for the evening and it went very badly.”
“‘Badly’ how? The poor creature was sopping wet and so scared she jumped when I touched her shoulder,” Marjorie said.
Geraldine looked her friend over. Could she really be so unsophisticated and unworldly as to have no idea what kind of “badly” she was implying?
She had fended off advances from a wide variety of boys her own age and men by far her senior from the time she was eleven or twelve years old.
Could things really be so very different now?
Somehow Geraldine doubted it. Still, if Marjorie was one of the lucky few who had no concept of such abuses, she wasn’t eager to disillusion her.
“Perhaps it was a boating accident,” she said.
A look of understanding passed over Marjorie’s bewildered face. “Yes, I suppose that does explain it. I am always very careful with the children whenever we’re near the water.”
“That’s very sensible, I’m sure. Now, I think you and I ought to leave Vivian to sleep it off in the back seat. There can come no good in dragging her kicking and screaming through the resort. She’ll get as good a night’s rest there as she will in her own bed.”
Geraldine glanced back towards the vehicle. The sounds of Vivian’s snores could be heard through the closed windows.