Ход королевы
Chapter 12
SheshouldcallMcAndrews,Mrs.Wheatley’solddoctor,andmakeanappointmentforsometimearoundnoon.Ifshecouldmakeittohisoffice.Thiswasmorethanahangover;shewasill.
Butdownstairs,afterherbath,shewassteadierandgotdowntwoeggswithnodifficulty.Thethoughtofpickingupthephoneandcallingsomeoneseemeddistantnow.Therewasabarrierbetweenherselfandwhateverworldthephonewouldattachherto;shecouldnotpenetratethebarrier.Shewouldbeallright.Shewoulddrinkless,taperoff.MaybeshewouldfeellikecallingMcAndrewsafteradrink.Shepouredherselfaglassofchablisandbegansippingit,andithealedherlikethemagicmedicineitwas.
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Thenextmorningwhileshewaseatingbreakfastthephonerangandshepickeditupwithoutthinking.SomeonenamedEdSpencerwasattheotherend;ittookamomenttorememberthathewasthelocaltournamentdirector.“It’sabouttomorrow,”hesaid.
“Tomorrow?”
“Thetournament.Wewonderedifyoucouldcomeanhourearly.TheLouisvillepaperissendingaphotographerandwethinkWLEXwillhavesomebody.Couldyoucomeinatnine?”
Herheartsank.HewastalkingabouttheKentuckyStateChampionship,shehadcompletelyforgottenit.Shewassupposedtodefendhertitle.ShewassupposedtogotoHenryClayHighSchooltomorrowmorningandbeginatwo-daytournamentasdefendingchampion.Herheadwasthrobbingandherhandthatheldhercoffeecupwasunsteady.“Idon’tknow,”shesaid.“Canyoucallbackinanhour?”
“Sure,MissHarmon.”
“Thankyou.I’lltellyouinanhour.
