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Summer is ending, and with it Jasmine Cottage’s rental period. Anathema’s bags are packed; Newt will be driving her to the airport; and Mrs. Henderson has, inevitably, come to see her off.
That last is causing a slight holdup. “So,” Mrs. Henderson inquires probingly, “how did you like Tadfield?”
“I had a nice vacation,” Anathema says (imprecisely, if not inaccurately).
“Oh?” Mrs. Henderson prods.
“Yeah.” Anathema glances out the window, seeing the glint of a blue Wasabi. “My ride’s here.”
Mrs. Henderson looks disappointed, but takes it in stride. “Will you be back next summer?”
“I don’t know.” Abruptly, Anathema laughs. “I don’t know! Isn’t that neat?”
Mrs. Henderson sighs. Americans; they really are strange. (As if getting all those dozens of newspapers left any doubt.)
“Thanks so much for all your… help, Mrs. Henderson,” Anathema adds. “Bye.”
Well, at least this American has manners. Taken aback, but gratified to be appreciated, Mrs. Henderson watches Anathema leave.
~ ~ ~
“It’s so funny,” Anathema tells Newt, as Dick Turpin approaches a bend in the road. “I don’t know my future.”
Newt nods sympathetically. “It’s not that bad,” he offers, “once you get used to it.”
“Oh, no.” Anathema smiles. “Not bad at all.”