InterNutter

Chapter Twenty-seven.
(The absence of a gentleman, A strange elation,The end of her lessons, and A permanent invitation to tea)

Sunday. Her day off. Iris dressed in her street wear and dressed her hair demurely enough for the streets of San Diego. It would have gone well, had she not run into the Colonel on her way out.

The babies instantly crowded around her, fascinated by how she'd changed. Rabbit lorded it over Three And Four, who had never seen Iris in anything but her uniform. The Spine merely lectured anyone who cared to listen about clothing and how it worked.

Colonel Walter eventually rescued her from their curious clutches and escorted her as far as the door. "Have a nice day, Miss Iris. And give your young gentleman my best regards."

Wait. What? He thought she was going to visit some swain? Who could possibly compete with his burning touch? She absently blurted, "But I haven't got a young gentleman. Or any gentleman at all."

"Oh," he said. He seemed pleasantly stunned. "Well. A very good day to you, Miss Iris."

Iris stepped out of the Walter estate with a vivid blush on her face and her heart pounding. She could not meekly wander where she whist, that Sunday. She kept finding herself skipping as if she were a child. Her face kept smiling. Giggles escaped her.

Men noticed, of course. Some followed for a block or two to see where she was going. Some greeted her cheerfully. A few even enquired about who her smiles were for.

Some passing navvies whistled at her, but she ignored them.

She was walking on air.

All the way to the little house that worked as a school. All the way through the warren of young ladies trying to find a better place in life. All the way to the little kitchen where Mrs Pembrooke was busy making tea. All the way to sunny smiles and recipe swapping and amiable chatting.

It was so nice to have companionship that was not also trapped with the Admiral in that mansion.

People in the local Catholic Church had tutted and murmured about all they knew of where she worked. They all assumed that she carried on in a wanton way. After the third sermon about the wages of sin, she stopped going.

She saw those churchgoers, now and again. Saw the way they cut her dead in the street... Heard the words they called her. There was no Christian charity in their hearts. She was better off without them or their flock. She got all the salvation she needed from a far more humble street preacher, who took her confession in the park.

"Time's running short," apologised Mrs Pembrooke. "Now that poor Miss Moreau has passed... There's immense pressure to increase your temptation ability."

Of course there was. "Miss Doctor Moreau," Iris corrected. "I've almost licked the accent. I just can't stop myself from saying 'sor', so I simply avoid it."

"Well and good enough, but I got word to teach you how to use makeup like a lady of quality."

Iris crossed herself and murmured a brief prayer. Painted like a harlot. What would the Admiral demand next? That they parade naked in front of the Colonel? "I trust these lessons will also include how to tempt a heartsick man who misses most other cues?"

"I'm a teacher, not a miracle worker. Best I can tell you is keep touching him fondly and feeding him tasty treats. The rest is up to him."

It was, as it turned out, her last lesson at the Pembrookes' little school. Not because she learned all she needed to, but because the Admiral refused to pay for any more.

Mrs Pembrooke still had her over for tea, thereafter. Every Sunday.

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Chapter Twenty-six
(Surprising domesticity, Lost genius, True love’s kissykiss, and A scientific fairytale)

Iris scampered back to the kitchen with the rest of the prime steaks. If Colonel Walter or the Admiral noticed, nothing was said. Mrs Cambridge seemed used to it, and laid a place at the table as if it was no trouble a all.

Many maids drew straws to serve the Admiral his courses, whilst Colonel Walter received his piping hot and fresh from the stove.

He seemed

Chapter Twenty-five.
(The funeral, Sudden learning, Absent friends, and Another disastrous dinner)

Yesterday afternoon had been a medicine to his soul. Just what he'd needed to face today. He shaved and groomed himself with every care. To bid a lovely stranger farewell.

Somber, black clothes. No decorations. No shining jewels. Just the raven-black ribbon on his top hat. The Admiral his father said that mourning dress made Peter look like a lamppost in search of a corner. That could not be helped.

Chapter Twenty-four.
(The happy mask of an angry man, A need for more than legacy, Taking a stand, and Going to feed the ducks)

Iris was glad she had finished the current document that the Colonel had dictated. The Admiral's booming greeting nearly scared her out of her skin.

Especially since it was a genial, "There you are, my dear boy," he cheered as if Colonel Walter was a favoured rich relative. "So nice to see this place coming to order. And

Chapter Twenty-three.
(Enforced health initiatives, The need of invention, An enlisted automaton, and Some very despicable lies)

Admiral Reginaldfield Chesterpot Walter was absolutely certain that Mrs Clambridge was using his infirmity against him. She was making him take in sunshine. And forcing him to have regular bedtimes. And sitting him to meals that his wife used to make him eat. He also knew for a fact that she had confiscated every ounce of snuff in the house because all of his hiding

Chapter Twenty-two.
(The need for fixing, What must be done, Utter chaos upstairs, and How well did you know her?)

Iris could see the exact moment when her words killed him. The joy bled out of him, starting with the twinkle in his eye. Then the light in his presence. Then the straightness in his stance.

"No," he whispered. "No, it's not fair. No. No. No... I worked so hard..." His hands started to shake. No. Not shake. Wriggle. Like he was