Having been the coachman for the Rosebude family for almost two decades, Harry Dickandjane had seen many things. He’d seen famous people, movers and shakers, politicians and big wigs.
But he’d never seen anything that had melted the barrier of secrecy until today.
He’d been summoned by Moxie Rosebude (Pickle, she liked to be called) in the early hours of the day. He had driven her to a downtown location and had been told to wait. He had waited for some time, but Harry didn’t mind too much. They were paying him regardless of what he did with his time and they paid him well.
When Moxie has returned, mascara streaked down her face making her look like some sort of demented raccoon. When she got into the back, Harry could swear that he saw something like a small grey cloud following her inside.
He needed to cut back on the caffeine, he decided. He’d been working too many house. He tried to keep his voice professional and business like when he addressed her. The tortured look on her face seemed to call for it.
Harry knew, as did all servants and chauffeurs and security guards, that when you took on the job of caring for some people in some way, you took on some of their skeletons. It was just the nature of the job.
This looked like one mother of a seketon. “Where to now, Miss?”
Another rule of the Chauffeur Code: Miss, never Ma’am, Sir, never Mister. It was just the way of things, he thought again.
“Just drive for a little while, Harry. If you don’t mind.”
Harry knew that Moxie always had her head in the clouds, surrounded by numbers and formulas and bits of code. She was always so put together. It was why it was disturbing to see her this way now.
“Are you okay, Miss Pickle?”
Moxie laughed. “You make me sound like a potato chip brand.”
“That might not be a bad thing to be.” Harry said. “Millions of overweight people in the world, you’d be feeding a need. It’s a good money maker.”
“How did someone like you get so smart, Harry?”
Had it been anyone else, Harry would have taken offence. But Moxie, while distracted, didn’t have a mean bone in her body. “Best job in the world for listening.” He said. “I listen a lot.”
“It’s just like that show on television.”
“What show Miss?”
“Upstairs Downstairs…actually I think its been off the air for some time now, but I saw a few episodes and they were quite good. Very much like our house, isn’t it?”
“Yes Miss, except we’re not British.”
Moxie laughed again. “True, Harry. Very true.”
They drove in silence for a moment longer before Moxie spoke. “Have you ever been in love, Harry?”
He thought about it for a moment before answering. He doubted she would want to hear how much he loved her, how he waited to see her each day. “I can’t say that I have ever had the pleasure.” He said instead.
“Well, don’t.” She said. “It’s such a waste of time.”
“What do you mean, Miss?”
“Well, what happened to the days where people got to know each other through fucking?” She hocked and Harry saw her blowing her nose and repairing her face in a small compact mirror. “I mean, regardless of who you’re with, if you’re attracted to another person, shouldn’t you just act on it?”
Harry was getting very hot in the front cab of the limo. He rolled down the window. “I can’t say Miss.”
“Surely, you’re attracted to someone, Harry?” Moxie said. “You’re a handsome man in the prime of your life. Isn’t there one woman who tickles your fancy?”
Harry thought about it. “Yes, there is.” He said.
“Then you should tell her you love her, instead of hiding behind what your family wants or what others expect of you. You should just be honest with your feelings, Harry, otherwise, how will the other person ever know?”
“Oh.” Harry said. He had never thought of it that way. “Oh, I see.”
“Do I know the lucky lady?” She asked.
Harry thought about it some more. “Yes, you could say that.”
“Then who is she, Harry?” Moxie leaned forward so that she could talk softer to him. “Maybe I could put in a good word?”
“Oh, I don’t think it would matter, Miss. I’ve been in love with you for years now.” Shit, he thought. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out just like that.
He rolled the car to a stop and prepared to confront the silence that emanated from the back of the limousine.
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