I shook hands next with Mrs. Stark, which caused the gentleman to look rather bemused. My mother-in-law was wearing a discreetly patterned navy-blue floral frock, her hair as neat as always and her hat as becoming, and Mr. Stark was in his usual well-tailored suit.
What wasIwearing? Well may you ask. I was in what the Sears, Roebuck catalog had called a “playsuit”: red-checked shorts and a matching sleeveless blouse that tucked into the shorts. The shorts were rather short, and my legs were bare and my feet in sandals, but itwasalmost ninety degrees outside, and nearly as hot in the apartment. I’d been nearly ready to run through the sprinklers myself. Wouldn’tthathave scandalized my in-laws!
“Marguerite?” That was Joe. “Turn on the water.”
“Excuse me,” I said to the others, then ran to the tap and turned it all the way before coming back prepared to ask, “Is that right?”
I couldn’t say it, because there was a great shout and a sound of splashing, and Joe yelling, “Turn it off!Off!”
More running, and I was cranking at the tap again.
Joe and Fred emerged from the cellar like two creatures from the deep. Their clothing was drenched with something absolutely terrible, and they smelled like a barnyard. A mostuncleanbarnyard.
Mr. Stark said, “My son, Joe. Joe, Mr. Penderleigh.”
Wait. FromChristie’s?
Joe grinned from a rather smeared face and wiped his hands on the towel I offered before handing it to Fred. “Hello. I’d shake hands, but maybe not. This is Fred Bartholomew. He’s helping me with this blocked drain.”
“Helping you not fix this blocked drain,” Fred said. “I don’tknow what’s in there, but it’s a doozy. Once more into the breach, you think? We never had to do stuff like this in the Air Corps. You infantrymen are supposed to be the ones in the muck.”
Mr. Stark said, “Marguerite, perhaps you could?—”
Mr. Penderleigh said, “What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?”
“Theproblem,”Fred said, “is that we’ve got no idea how to get whatever-it-is out of wherever-it-is. Ten bucks says it’s the kid in 1B. Flushing the whole roll down? Flushing the cat down? Who can say? The kid’s a terror.”
Mr. Penderleigh had removed his suit coat. He handed it to me and said, “If you would, Mrs. Stark,” then removed his tie and gave me that as well before rolling up his shirtsleeves. “Let’s have a recce. Do you have a plumber’s snake, by chance?”
“Yep,” Joe said, running a hand across his sweating brow, with rather disastrous results. “First time using it, though. Everybody in the house is clogged, the whole place smells like a sewer, and wouldn’t you know it, the landlord’s away. If you know what you’re doing, I sure would appreciate the advice. Fred, I’m going to get you to hold that lantern. Half the problem is that we can’t see what we’re doing.”
Mr. Penderleigh headed back down the steps with them and disappeared into the darkness. Mrs. Stark said, “Would you like to get changed, dear, while they sort this out?”
“I have the duty to turn the water on and off,” I said. “This is very necessary.”
“I’ll do that,” Mr. Stark said. “You go on. Lena, you run her over to the bank.”
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Stark said.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Mr. Penderleigh has changed our appointment time,” Mr. Stark said. “Didn’t I say?”
Mrs. Stark was possibly disappointed to discover that the flat was mostly merely smelly, although the dishes sat unwashed on the counter. “Because the sink wouldn’t drain,” I said.
“You go on, dear,” she said. “Change your clothes.”
I headed toward the bedroom, then turned back to say, “If you need to use the toilet, I’m afraid that also is not possible. Or itis,but, you know, the water isn’t as clear as one could wish it, for the toilet doesn’t flush.” Not what I wanted to tell my so-critical mother-in-law, but wouldn’t it be worse if shetriedto flush? Yes, absolutely.
I came out five minutes later more suitably clad. “I’m ready,” I said. “But rather?—”
Mrs. Stark turned. Oh. She’d made a pile of the filthy wet towels from the morning’s disasters. “When we’re finished with all this,” she said, “and Joe’s added his clothes to it, we’ll take everything to the launderette in the car.”
“Oh, that would beveryhelpful,” I said. “Thank you. It really is too bad, you know, for a German woman to have her home in such a state, and for others to see it is even worse. My father used to tease my mother for being such a carefulHausfrau,but this was how we were raised.”
“My mother was the same,” Mrs. Stark said. “The things she would say about the neighbors who didn’t scrub their steps!”
“But yes!” I said with delight, holding the apartment door for her. “I’ve taken to scrubbing ours, and the hallway as well, for the landlord doesn’t seem to see the need for this, and I really would be most ashamed to have our guests see it in such dirt, especially when one is trying to have a festive atmosphere, with flowers and candles and so forth, and rolling up the carpet, as you said. We’ve done this many timesnow, and I must thank you for the idea, for everybody enjoys it very much.”
