The next day passed calmly. Rose arrived in the early morning. She proved to be a stout, cheerful, middle-aged woman with a slight Irish brogue, and when Melda introduced herself, she said, “Well, and isn’t it about time there were a couple of sensible women around the place to take care of Mrs. Beaton and
The Duppy Part Two Mrs. Beaton came into the kitchen. “I thought I heard you, Simon,” she said to her husband, and kissed him on the cheek. “Why are you home so early?” Mr. Beaton frowned. “For God’s sake, Emily, I told you last night that I’m going to the economic symposium in Jackson Hole.
The Duppy Part One “Wanda is a bit of a handful,” Mrs. Beaton warned Melda when she hired her. “We try not to spoil her, but she’s at that difficult age, you understand, just coming into her teens.” Melda did not understand. In Jamaica she’d been the fourth child out of six, and she’d been