Something odd happened this evening. When the door bell rang shortly after six, I went to answer it because none of the men were home. And there on the verandah stood Madame Fugue from 17d. Oh, dear! What is her proper name?
“How nice to see you,” I said, compromising.
“Nice to see you too, dahling,” she cooed.
“Would you like to come in? Have a coffee?”
She said no, she had to get back next door before business got too brisk, but she was, um, wondering, um, if, um, we had any, um, plans for the vacant rooms? “Some of my girls are interested,” she concluded.
How peculiar! Jim and Bob arrived on the Harley Davidson at that moment, and joined me as I was explaining to Madame that the Public Trustee was in control of things, and we hadn’t heard yet when they were planning to rent out the vacant premises.
“Fuckin’ old women!” she said, and departed, leaving a strong aroma of Patou’s Joy behind her.
“Business must be good,” I said to Jim. “I believe that stuff costs more than diamonds or truffles.”
“Well, she was wearing plenty of diamonds, too, unless you think her earrings and pendant are hunks of bottle,” said Jim.
“It isn’t fair, is it?” asked Bob a little wistfully. “Good girls like you and camp girls like me are lucky if we get a two-bob box of Black Magic chocolates.”
I grabbed at the door knob in shock. “Bob! Do you mean to say that Jim gives you a whole box of Black Magic choccies?”
Bob leered to show her Dracula canines. “Jim loves me.”
“Well, I’m seriously thinking of asking Madame Fugue for a few tips on how to get started in the game,” I said. “The game’s one way to earn a decent—oops, indecent—living at home! It would also provide Flo with heaps of uncles.”
Jim was frowning, but not at the banter. “You know, Harry, that was a very odd thing for the Madame to do. She has to know that it isn’t in our power to rent rooms. I wonder what she was really after?”
“I haven’t a clue,” I said.
Bob suddenly whooped with laughter. “I wonder what the Child Welfare would say if they knew about 17b and 17d? Ooooooo-aa!”
But they know about 17b and 17d, of course they know. Jim was right, however, Madame Fugue’s appearance was peculiar. What could she have been fishing for? Though I suspect that Child Welfare wasn’t as shocked by the brothels next door as Miss Arf-Arf was on her second visit when she saw the winged phallus embroidered on the inside thigh of Jim’s jeans. Whereas she was hugely impressed by Lady Richard, on Jim’s arm. Alone among us, Lady Richard has gone into traditional formal mourning for Mrs. Delvecchio Schwartz. Still in black, though shortly, he announced, he would be able to wear lilacs and greys. Even, if the occasion warrants it, white.