The Librarian

Episode 17

Harriet never reached her room before Amanda caught up with her.

"Oh, Harriet, I'm so sorry. Your special day and all. Are you alright, can I do anything?"

She unlocked her door and stepped inside, unable to dissuade Amanda from joining her.

"It wasn't my special day, Amanda. I wanted no part of it, and now I don't have to. I just want to lie down and rest so . . ."

"Can I get you some tea or soup or something?"

Harriet sagged inside, knowing her next few words would change their relationship dramatically.

"Amanda, I just want to be alone so please leave - now."

The look turned from hurt to a frosty glare, and without a word, Amanda turned and left - slamming the door. Harriet gave a sad sigh and removed her bonnet and set it on the dressing table. Everything had been a tragedy since she left home and she wondered if somehow she was now a curse, a bad penny that brought grief to anything she touched.

Another knock at the door and she snatched it open, ready to display her fury.

"Miss Folio, do you have a minute?"

"Miss Walsh! Yes, how can I help you? Uh- come in."

Enid explained about the telegraph from county and the one she was drafting to reply, would include the reckless driving displayed by the driver. She also wanted to say that Harriet was regretful at not being able to meet the Governor and looked forward to his speedy recovery.

"I didn't want to put words in your mouth," Enid said.

"That's perfectly fine Miss Walsh, and if it is my permission you want then you have it."

"Thank you, Miss Folio. Dreadful start to all this business." She muttered as she left.

Harriet closed and locked the door then removed her dress and hung it on the stand. She lay on the bed and closed her eyes, falling asleep, but it was a sleep of restless dreams, of Amanda's kiss, Aaron's smiling face and the look on Wenderby's face when she shot him.

****

"He's in a foul mood, but he agreed to the interview so you are on your own, my friend." Thomas jerked his head doubtfully.

"I'll just have to out bafflegab him I guess." Aaron winked and entered the Governor's room.

Governor Mayhew was in his bed propped up with several pillows behind and around his splinted leg. He wore a dark frown and watched Aaron as he approached the side of the bed.

"Governor Mayhew, I hope you're feeling better after that unfortunate accident."

"Don't get your hopes up." The voice was crusty and reeked of someone used to having their own way - always. "You're the reporter fella Wilkes told me about?"

Aaron Trenholme, sir. I'm the owner and editor of the Tuckerville newspaper."

Mayhew shifted on his pillows. "Owner huh. I hope you write about the damn hazard your town created with that stupid trench."

"Perhaps if your driver had exercised a little more caution entering an unfamiliar place. The trench serves to drain away the rainwater, leaving the road quite passable, allowing business to continue, including that of the local miners - which I might add, results in an uninterrupted flow of taxes."

"You gotta lot of sand, young fella." Mayhew considered him a moment. "You gonna tell me now that the trench was Avery Proctor's idea?"

"Mayor Proctor was fully behind the idea and even incentivised it, getting the miners to do the digging."