Beatrice: An Alarming Tale of British Murder and Woe by Tedd Hawks (the reading list book .TXT) 📕

death,” here he paused again for dramatic effect, “in death we perhapsshall be reunioned under the love of grace and forgiveness.”

“I—” Corinthiana started to speak, but Pip dramatically threw uphis index finger to silence his stepmother; for the first time in her longlife, the Hawsfeffer matriarch was being out-drama'd. The rest of the Winterbournesand Hawsfeffers waited with breathless anticipation, expecting more of theexplanation for their estranged half-sibling/half-uncle’s appearance at thishour.

Pip relished the attention. Although his nose was raised skyward,he looked down intermittently to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “Myfondest memories,” he started again, lowering his voice to add emphasis, “are,of course, of my mother singing to me as I fell asleep. Every night she wouldsing the old song of ‘Duck Man of the Old Hat.’ As she warbled of the figure’storture and kidnapping propensities, I would smile, and my mother would ask meto search under her own hat for notes of love and affirmation. It was this, ofcourse, that led my father to burn her hats after I had left for France,consumed with the idea that hats, specifically notes in hats, were the rootcause of mon homosexualité.”

Robert Edward, who had been wearing a top hat, felt itself-consciously.

Pip cleared his throat in a loud, grandiose manner. His eyes,previously directed skyward out of pomposity, drifted downward. As he took in thegathered party, his blue eyes flitted between faces without much interest. “Memories,”he continued, his eyes on May, “of course, the best of times, seeping throughmy mind’s eye like a warm soup served in the Champs-Élysées. It was this balmthat drew me here. I was shocked to receive such a letter, le silencefrom my home resounding over the past decades. But as I opened the note andthought about my mother, this house, my father, I knew I must come home, ifonly to lay to rest the pain and loathing I have had for it over the decades.The rancor has grown out of a salted earth, with it the roses of my mother’slove, twined in brambles of my father’s judgments, rippled through withwildflowers that represent friendships, also birds are on the tree, which havesymbols I have yet to give them.”

“I’m sorry…” Kordelia rose from the couch and approached her uncle.“That line seems very familiar, ‘…seeping through my mind’s eye like a warmsoup…’ Uncle, have you read Mère, Bélier, Mort, Chapeau?”

As she drew closer to Pip, the elder gentleman’s nostrils flared.“My dear…Is that your breath?”

Kordelia nodded. “Halitosis—it loses me quite a few points.”

Pip nodded, feigning understanding. With renewed vigor, he resumedspeaking, taking a step back and raising his arms theatrically. This causedhim, inadvertently, to throw the teacup Martha had given him, against the wall.“It’s out then, strange fille éthérée avec mauvaise haleine!” he exclaimed. He moved his hand to hisforehead for additional dramatic effect. “Yes, I am the famous author whopenned that work under my French nomde plume, Jacques Eiffel-Montmartre.It was I who insisted on four crepe scenes instead of three. Let this be alesson to all who are told that you have too many crepe scenes—there are nevertoo many! I do hope you read the original and not the German-language version,which has the ridiculously adapted ending with the Mob. Anyway, you must alwaysbelieve in your crepe scenes and not mobs. Believe in your dreams. You muststrive like the falcon over the winds of the Irish coast and believe. Believein yourself as if you are the only one who can say what you indeed speak thatwhich you mean.”

This phrasing caused confusion (foreveryone but August, who appeared to appreciate Pip’s tendency to stringtogether nonsensical chains of words); however, Pip did not notice thequestioning looks of his audience as he drove to the conclusion of his speech.

“We are family here. I have comehundreds of miles to say aurevoir, and so, I hope that you too, can also,herewith, meet me where I stand as the man who is who he was. Let us forget ourpast and meet on a common ground, littered with the rhododendrons of our ownforgivenesses.”

He stopped and bowed slightly. For a momentthere was only a confused silence, disrupted by Kordelia, who began clapping enthusiastically.The hall rang with the sound of her applause and little else, until after afull minute, she became self-conscious and stopped. Corinthiana shuffledforward in her usual, slow dramatic gait, looking back uncertainly at the restof the family. She had hoped someone else would offer an olive branch, but thesheer number of themes in Pip’s arrival speech rendered most of the partydumbfounded. Since she had written the letter that invited the sodomite, shetook the responsibility and offered a greeting.

“Well,” she said slowly, “it is very niceyooou were aaable tooo come. In truuuth, I waaas reticent tooo beeegin theeefuneraaary events without yooou.” The old woman stiffly reached out and patted Pip’sshoulder. “Maaarthaaa, caaan yooou taaake his coat, pleeease?”

Martha stomped back into the room andtook his bright pink coat. Pip, once rid of his garish outerwear, adjusted hiswig and assessed the room once again with a mixture of disdain andindifference.

Thunder rattled the windows, punctuatingthe emergence of Crockett, who had been hiding in the shadows. He marched intothe room, his arms full. In one hand he held a rapier from the basement; in theother arm, he carried what appeared to be a pile of old clothes. Confidently,he threw the objects down as he took his place in the center of the room.

The appearance of the young man caused aripple of anxiety, mostly due to his feral demeanor. His eyes were wild, hisbreath coming in quick, manic spurts. Everyone in the room felt ill at ease,including Brontë, who wanted to approach her dear friend but was also uncomfortabledue to his rabid state.

“I know…” he panted. “I know who it is!In Pip’s speech...It’s the clue about Lucinda’s note. Her…”

            “Pip.”Detective Pimento interrupted him loudly. He marched authoritatively into thecenter of the gathered party, taking his place next to Crockett. His eyestwinkled, almost as manically as the young man’s. “We know, Crockett. You thinkthat somehow the man who came thousands of miles and only just arrived isresponsible for