The Diary Of Pamela D. - Page 12/114

Pamela luxuriated in the tub for almost an hour. Bath salts! Bubble bath! Hot water that was really hot, not lukewarm because the owner was too cheap to turn the boiler up. It turned out that she and Mrs. Dewhurst were sharing the same bed but the woman was busy at the desk, staying up late. Pamela went to bed and lay awake for a long time, enjoying the silence, the lack of traffic noise, of public disturbances, of smashing beer bottles tossed carelessly from car windows. The bed was so big, and soft . . .

Her thoughts turned again to Mrs. Dewhurst. Who was this woman? Why was she being so kind? What could she possibly see in a girl like Pamela, someone with no money, no class, no real education or experience . . . with no family or friends, with no one of quality in her life whom she could present as an equal, or even as a friend? How was the woman able to make up her mind so quickly? Was it that she, Pamela, was that unsophisticated and therefore transparent?

And what of this business with Mrs. Dewhurst's son . . . what was his name . . . Leo? No, it was . . . Theo, that was it. Theo, short for Theodore. What sort of man was he? How old was he? And what did Mrs. Dewhurst mean by distraction? Assistance she well understood, but distraction? What was that supposed to mean? Was she supposed to keep him entertained, or-

A sudden thought gave her a stab of anxiety. Surely they didn't expect her to . . . to be his mistress or something?

She shook her head. 'I'm being stupid. It's just the way Mrs. Dewhurst talks. She uses words differently than we do. She probably just wants me around to give him the opportunity of having someone in the house he can talk to. After all, she told me that everyone else in the house is really old. But why would a rich guy talk to a servant, or a domicile, or whatever it is that Mrs. Dewhurst calls it?

She tried to form an image in her mind of what Mrs. Dewhurst's house must look like. Was it a big house with lots of yard? Did it have balconies? Were there neighbours close by? Or was it secluded, out somewhere, in some remote place, all by itself? 'It must be big if it has servants,' she reasoned. And the nearby town, what was it like? Was it just a gas station with a convenience store and a few other businesses, a small place where outsiders weren't welcome, except for the money they spent, or- but no, she couldn't imagine anything other than that she had experienced.