While the fair brought joy and vitality to most of Snodland's residents —especially those who, like the parish priest, managed to fill their pockets at the expense of others— there were people who weren't having so much fun. Even if more than seventy-two hours had passed since the event ended and all the tents, stalls and banners that were intended to decorate the place had already been removed from the gardens.
People like Moore, the worst-tempered gardener in that part of the country, who had been trying to clean up the mess for two days.
Or well, cleaning the grounds was a saying. After all, Jonathan Moore had two companions, despite the fact that he treated them as subordinates, to whom he had full authority to give orders, as a veteran that he was. So the teamwork went like this: Moore complained about how hard life of the common worker was, that people were uneducated disgusting for throwing their waste in the field without caring about anything or anyone. Working as little as possible and passing Kenneth and Oscar, respectively, detailed orders about the tasks they had to perform.
It was a real pain to hear Moore fidgeting over all this, and even more so to have to listen to his instructions, speaking not kindly, about the obvious. So the young people could work and he could avoid having to lend a hand.
Oscar had taken the initiative to do as much as he could on his own, without waiting for encouragement to do so. Doing things like this, at least he could get rid of that annoying buzz, as was the voice of Moore, which had been racking his head since Sunday.
And if only Moore was the problem… But no! Other people were still mourning the events at the fair. Someone he couldn't get rid of even by shutting himself in his room and tucking his head under the pillow, in order to silence the chatter.
"My poor little birds…" Kenneth wailed again, as he failed to sweep a few leaves onto the pile he and Oscar were already stacking. “What has become of them?”
"I'm sure they'll be better off anywhere than in your cages," Oscar whispered, fed up, even though he had no intention of arguing.
“Don´t tell me that! I got the smallest birds that I could, the ones that the neighbors might like to have in their houses and feed them, and show them to the visitors, and keep them warm inside a home and… and… It's not fair! Do you know how many I managed to sell? Zero!”
"I didn't think your salesmanship skills were so bad."
In fact, as much as Kenneth talked, Oscar had the impression that if he were to cajole people into selling their soul to the devil, he would succeed. Not because he offered the best prices or because the mode of his speech prompted buying. No. It was because he was so persistent that anyone would buy his merchandise just to make him shut up and leave them alone.
"I'm not a bad salesman!" Kenneth had protested, stopping his rake for a moment, to glare at his partner. “What happens is I got bad luck! Half the animals escaped, and the guests weren't really into buying living things. Which on the other hand, is normal. It´s normal because you´re going to have fun and eat at a fair, where are you going to take a little bird in the meantime? Those creatures require some reassurance. Ah! But you won´t believe what happened to me, I was about to collect my things and everything when that darling of yours, Madeleine Cornell, appeared and angry as she was, kicked my table, causing me to drop the cages that remained. All my little birds flew away!”
Kenneth looked like he was about to cry, but Oscar didn't feel a trace of sorrow. The fact that Madeleine unintentionally released these animals was certainly the only good thing she had done on Saturday.
"But you don't have the cages anymore," Oscar declared without pausing his work as well, as if asking the other where he had left them if he no longer had occupants for them and they weren't in his room either.
"Uh... I mean, after Madeleine left, Ferguson showed up and bought them all. You know who I'm telling you, right? He´s quite popular in the old part of Snodland. Well, seems that he is already been forbidden to enter various taverns cause he always insists on visiting them with three or four of his daughters. And of course, the innkeepers are not stupid, although he has them well educated, they think that one day they´ll bite someone.”
“Makes sense.”
For although Ferguson referred to them as "daughters", in truth those beings were not even human: They were weasels.
This was a madman —another one of many— who, in the absence of a family of his kind, kept a horde of weasels in his house. The figure decreased between seven and eleven, every time someone asked him. Although it was known he had them well trained, and it is that they had never caused damage or injured anyone, many people were still reluctant to socialize with him because whenever he was seen walking through the streets he had on him, wrapped around his neck or inside his coat, one of those animals.
They had kindly asked him to put them in cages when he took them outside, but he must not have complied with such a request until he was denied entry to his favorite establishments in the village.
"But poor animals, they will create a trauma in there! And no, before you say it, because I already see you coming, it´s not the same as with my birds. Look at the size of them, in my cage at least they had some room to plan. The weasels, on the other hand...”
"You're back with the nonsense," Moore growled; the only reason Kenneth stopped abruptly was because he had come up and hit him on the head with his cap, before putting it back on. “Why won't Kilduff bring me dogs instead of these freaks? Those would be infinitely more useful!”
"Don't say that, you love us! The thing is, you´re too shy to admit it, and that's fine, they say people with big hearts don't usually openly admit that kind of...”
Kenneth stopped again, this time he even leaned down and closed his eyes for a second, reflexively. For Moore had taken off his cap again and was threatening to give him another thrust. An order could be read in his eyes: ‘Go back to work’ and in his aura it was read that he wasn´t in the mood for smart retorts. So Kenneth was left with no choice but to take the tool from him and continue clearing the gardens.
Seeing the most troublesome of the boys had got back to work, Moore took the opportunity to address Oscar:
"I don't know if you've heard, but the master has returned."
Everyone in that house knew Patrick Seymour had abruptly left his own event on Saturday afternoon. And he hadn't shown up at his house for the remainder of the weekend. What's more, it wasn't until that morning — and let it be known that it was Tuesday —that the guy had returned.
"I´ve heard it, yes."
"Well, I don't know what he wants, but he asked to speak to you… Right now!" Moore pointed to the other end of the gardens, next to the big house, for Patrick was there looking in his direction. “Can you tell me what the heck you've done?”
"Have I done something?"
It was after five in the afternoon and, as far as he knew, Patrick had arrived around noon. If he was angry with him or the matter to be discussed was serious, he wouldn´t have waited so many hours to call him.
Moore didn´t know what to answer to that question, although he did warn him to behave properly before the young man and not to complain about the treatment he received. Well, if anyone had to complain about that, it was the head gardener himself.
But Oscar was right in his assumptions; To say that Patrick was angry would be misjudging. The protagonist wasn´t angry, but disappointed. Which he could verify at the precise moment in which he opened his mouth to say:
"Osvald, this is a disgrace of the worst kind," he began, as always forgetting the names of his employees. “I've fallen in love with the wrong person, now I realize it! That Theresa… She doesn't deserve me at all!”
"Doesn't she?" Oscar tried to keep his satisfied smile from being too noticeable.
If anyone didn't deserve Patrick, of course it was Theresa.
“It´s shameful! And I thought she was the sweetest and most educated of her sisters, but nothing to do with it! Look, this morning I found a letter from her in the mail and you aren´t going to believe the atrocities that were written in it” Patrick had to wait a moment for his employee to ask about it but, as this did not happen, he proceeded to continue. “That girl called me old pervert to my face! Well, not to my face, but the letter was meant for me, so as if it were. She claimed I don't know what nonsense that I should look at slightly older women, as if I were an old man! And that she had no interest in socializing with individuals of my ilk. What the hell was he referring to by that?”
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“I´ve no idea.”
"It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, she was probably delusional. Either way, I've already learned my lesson! It was a mistake, from the beginning, to think that such a young lady would be worthy of walking with me. It´s evident that she is not, nor will she ever be, up to the task. It´s because of this, Osvald, that I have made the firm decision I will never again enter into relations with any of the Cornell's.”
"Oh, I think it's a good decision if it's true that they've been so disrespectful to you," Oscar pointed out.
He did not believe that Theresa had insulted him in her letter, far from it, but the protagonist was one of those who took every rejection as a personal offense. So letting the guy decide to put land in the middle was the best he could do.
"It is, isn't it? Although of course, they are my neighbors, it´s not like I can pretend they aren´t there. Oh, and I don't really dislike Mr. Cornell. I just thought: ‘It would be better if I don't go near his daughters if they´re all like Theresa.’”
"I think you are safe in that regard, sir."
“Good to know. I´ll try to keep contact to a minimum, as there´s no other choice. But the last thing I want in this life is to have to lower myself again, to make sure one of the Cornells notices me.”
“I applaud that decision. Preserving dignity is important.”
"It is also for this that I have called you; the main reason I decided to hire you was because I wanted you to help me get closer to Theresa. However, now the situation has been reversed, I no longer have any need for that.”
Seeing where the shots were going, Oscar was quick to say:
"But sir, are you not satisfied with my service?"
"No, it's not that," replied the other with a gesture, as if that conversation didn't even deserve his attention because it was so trivial; no doubt he hadn't been keeping an eye on Oscar's work in those weeks. I was indifferent if someone new came or if they left, but now that it is confirmed you are not useful to me, why be spending on your salary? Moore can do the job you've been doing up to now, so… As of now, you're fired.”
Patrick rejecting Madeleine had a pass, but how was he going to fire him just like that? He hadn't managed to stand out, as planned, but he hadn't made any mistakes, either! And how was it to save his salary? The protagonist spent more on a night out than he did on three months' salary!
“Fired, you say. And there´s no way to change your mind?”
"I'm afraid not, but don't worry." I understand you´re well liked in the town. I'm sure you´ll find a new job in no time.”
"Yeah, and I suppose I can't even wait for financial compensation for having fired me without warning or at least a letter of recommendation."
"I'm terribly sorry, really. But I leave acts of altruism for dates when they collect for the poor and, regarding the letter of recommendation, I really would. I have no problem with it. But you were here so little time…! I don't think it's fair for me writing it, not having a chance to test your skills.”
With no room for negotiation, and given that he was already fired, Oscar was going to take the opportunity to tell Patrick everything he thought about him. And, this time, he would do it regardless sounding offensive. Couldn't he keep working there? Alright!, he didn't need it! Perhaps later he´d regret that outburst, but in that instant it was as if the water had overflowed from the glass, finally exhausting his patience.
Perhaps it was a sign from heaven that, before he could utter a foul phrase, a maiden came to interrupt them.
She, after apologizing for meddling, came to tell Patrick that he had a visitor. This visit was not as unexpected as it might seem, since the protagonist had been left with a note advising that one of those days she would stop by. Now who could be blamed if Patrick was not yet in Lilac Hall at the time of receiving said note?
"Who's coming to bother at this hour?"
"It's Madeleine Cornell."
“She… Send her to hell, but with subtlety”
"Wait," Oscar stopped him, getting the maid to stop her tracks as well, changing her plans instantly, "I think it would be better if you received her." As Patrick was looking at him between confusion and annoyance, wondering how he dared to give him orders, he explained. “I didn't want to tell you about this before, as Madeleine wished it was all a secret, but… Do you remember that envelope you received the other day? Well, it was Madeleine Cornell who put it there. Her intention was to please you, because she thought that lately you looked somewhat discouraged. She didn't say anything because she's that humble.”
"I-is that true? Was it her doing?”
“If I have sinned in recent days, it has been to ignore your feelings for Theresa to help Madeleine with her purposes. Well, I was the one who suggested to give you some gift, without specifying what, to encourage you to choose her.”
"So you knew about Theresa?"
"I only suspected it. But Madeleine seemed much more willing to me, not to mention, "Oscar lowered his voice here, "it's wrong for me to say, but she's Mr. Cornell's favorite. It´s quite likely that the entirety of his inheritance goes to her. Not to mention that she is smart and beautiful, what more could one ask for?”
"And generous too, not everyone would be willing to give such a sum to a neighbor."
"But what neighbor? I'm sure Madeleine must think more of you by now! Why would she have come here today if not? It´s obvious she heard that you left the fair in a hurry and wanted to come and check if you´re all right!”
"That must have been it, I've been going after the wrong Cornell all this time! Ah, Osvald, let me tell you, you´re hired again.”
Oscar sighed in relief at this, then saw Patrick rush to meet Madeleine.
Anyway, things hadn't gone so bad. The protagonists had come together — if that could be called coming together — only twenty chapters late. And who was going to tell Oscar that Madeleine would end up saving his day? Good thing that Sunday afternoon he had stopped by her house briefly to give a couple of instructions! And it was he who asked her to appear at Lilac Hall in a couple of days, to confess that it was her who gave that envelope with money on purpose.
Now that the main plot was starting to work in the right direction, it was time for the secondary characters to think about their own future.
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