“I suppose it might be soon. Mrs. Heath does things on the spur of the moment.”
Vicki found this a troubling prospect. If Lucy went abroad and stayed a long time, she might never be reunited with her grandparents. Even if she remained abroad a short time the separation was risky; the Bryants were elderly people, Mr. Bryant had a heart ailment. However, on this point Lucy was stubborn. Vicki saw that she felt really committed to her job with Mrs. Heath.
“Lucy, do you ever,” Vicki said tentatively, “wonder about your employer? Don’t you ever have any doubts about her and her plans?”
“How did you guess that?” Lucy exclaimed. Then she seemed confused. “I shouldn’t really have said that. Mrs. Heath is kind to me, and this is a pleasant job. But to tell you the truth, some things do strike me as strange. Especially now that I have a chance to talk about it—I mean, now that you make me think about it.”
“What things?”
Lucy gave a sigh of relief. “All right, I’ll tell you, though maybe I’m being disloyal.”
Ever since they had come to Pine Top, Lucy said, Mrs. Heath had not actually written anything, though the book was their reason for being here. Mrs. Heath had not given Lucy any dictation beyond a few letters, mail orders, to San Francisco stores. As for the mail, what there was of it, Mrs. Heath handled it herself and never let Lucy touch outgoing or incoming letters.
“But surely you could mail a letter if you wanted to,” Vicki said. “When you go down to Pine Top or drive into the nearest sizable town.”
“But we haven’t left these premises since we first got here,” Lucy said. “We’ve stayed right here for—let’s see—a month now.”
“What! Why, for goodness’ sake?”