Rambaud's restaurant so we can show off our new knowledge of wine and food, and then we're off to the ballet. On Sunday, we're going to lunch and then immediately to the Museum of Modern Art for most of the afternoon. We return here for another special dinner and start of another week. I thought I'd have Sunday afternoon off at least!" she cried, her arms up in frustration.
She shook her head.
"I guess it got me so upset. I forgot what I had brought down and went upstairs to get ready for my dance class. I was up there twenty minutes before I realized what I had left in the dining room, but when I rushed down to get it, it was gone! I asked Mrs. Churchwell if she had seen the pages, but she said she hadn't."
"You mean when you and the others cleared off the table, you didn't realize it was there? No one did? I can't believe that. One of the boys must have it. Did you ask Howard?"
"Actually, he and Cinnamon left before Ice. Steven. and I did. I know Steven didn't have it. I must have kicked them under the table or something, but they're gone. Where could they be?
Could someone have just thrown it all in the garbage?" I shook my head.
"I don't know. What does Cinnamon think?"
"She worries that Ms. Fairchild might have found it or someone else did and gave it to her. She thinks she would give them to Madame Senetsky." she moaned.
I didn't want to say it. but I thought that was very likely. I tried to ease her concern.
"Why would she do that?"
"Why? We're living in a prison." she wailed. "Spied upon in every which way and I don't mean just Peeping Toms. I can't even get an hour to see my boyfriend. I'm terrified about asking Madame Senetsky to let me have any time off."
She shook her head, sucked in her breath, and hurried on to her class.
I looked after her, thinking about what she had said. Cinnamon suspected the silhouetted person on the fire escape was Ms. Fairchild. Could Rose be right? Could it be we were all being watched? How bizarre. I thought.
The remainder of the day was uneventful. I still half suspected Howard had swiped the pages, but if he knew anything, he didn't reveal it. Rose remained depressed and anxious. We tried to cheer her up, but her boyfriend had called and expressed how disappointed he was, too.
"Y'all know what happens when you can't see them, don't you?" Rose asked. No one wanted to answer, even though everyone knew what she meant. "They find someone else who is able to see them. I can't blame them. either."
"I'm sure you'll have free time next weekend," I said. Neither Cinnamon nor Ice looked optimistic about it. 'He'll wait. He'll wait if he really cares for you.
"I described the same situation to Chandler and he understands," I went on. "It's a bigger trip for him coming in from Boston. and he wants to be sure he can spend a lot of time with me before he comes."
"Well, good for you," Rose said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I didn't mean..."
She turned and walked quickly out of my room with her arms folded, her head down.
"Rose..."
"Leave her go," Cinnamon said.
"But I didn't mean to make it sound like my boyfriend is better than hers."
"The way she is right now. she's goin' to jump down anyone's throat "
I told her what Rose had said concerning our being in a prison, being under glass.
"Maybe you're not so wrong suspecting Ms. Fairchild," I said.
"Suspecting her of what?" Ice asked. and Cinnamon told her. She grimaced and shook her head.
"It all seems so spooky." I said.
"That's not spooky. That's downright sick. And what about the ascot?" Ice asked. "How does it figure into this?"
Cinnamon shook her head,
"As I told Honey. I can't explain it." She thought a moment and then nodded. "There's only one thing to do."