The World of Henry Orient Page #6

- May I speak to Valerie, please?

- Valerie's not here.

- Are you sure?

- Just a minute.

Mrs Boyd's looking for Valerie.

Any idea where she might be?

I'll bet she's run away.

No, we haven't heard

from her this morning.

You know, Mrs Gilbert, if Valerie is there,

it would be a mistake to cover up for her.

I've told you, she's not here, Mrs Boyd.

- I'll bet she comes here.

- I hope so.

But she'll have to call her mother

at once, you know.

Sure.

- I mean it, the minute she gets here.

- I understand.

What a dreadful woman.

I'm sure she's there

and that woman is lying about it.

I'm afraid I don't think

you handled the situation very well, Is.

- You didn't see the book.

- No, but...

Don't all young girls begin

to dream about romance at that age?

- If she confined it to dreaming.

- That's ridiculous.

You mean trapping Joe Daniels

into a date is only dreaming?

I think the less said

about Joe Daniels the better.

What's that supposed to mean?

If we don't hear anything by noon,

I'm gonna call the police.

This is something new, such concern

for a child you don't even think is yours.

No, that's not what I said, Is.

I said once I wished I could be sure.

But that doesn't matter any more.

That's just an unimportant technicality.

I'm gonna get dressed.

Hello.

- Joe.

- Oh, good morning. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Have you seen or heard from Valerie?

- Are you kidding?

- She's gone, completely disappeared.

She's hardly likely

to come knocking at my door.

She did before, didn't she?

I'm sorry I ever told you that story.

I was just trying to be funny.

I'll bet.

If you'd just use your mind,

you'd realise Val loathes me.

She even called me a lousy pianist. You

should have seen the look she gave me.

I'll have to call you back

because Frank just came in.

# No cloud above

# No earth below

# A universe of sky and snow

Hail and Merry Christmas,

whoever you may be!

Mr Orient?

I am and God bless you

for making the point so charmingly.

And who, may I ask, are you?

This is Mrs Franklin Boyd.

Mrs Franklin Boyd, you are the possessor

of one of the most angelic voices

it has yet been my pleasure to listen to.

Speak on for me, will you?

I am Valerie's mother. I know she's there.

May I speak to her, please?

Er...

Mr Orient, I told you

I wanted to speak with my daughter.

If you don't put her on the phone,

I shall call the police.

Before you do something

you will later regret,

may I first tell you that your daughter

does not happen to be here.

Do you happen to know

how old my daughter is, Mr Orient? 14.

- Mrs Boyd...

- That's all the police will need to know.

Mrs Boyd...

Mr Orient?

Mr Orient?

Hello, Mrs Boyd? Mrs Boyd?

- Hello?

- Mr Orient?

- Mrs Boyd?

- We were cut off.

Mrs Boyd, tell me something.

Does your daughter

ever dress like a Chinaman?

Mrs Boyd?

Mr Orient.

Won't you join me?

- Would you perhaps care for a drink?

- No, thanks.

- Some coffee?

- Thank you, no.

Niente, grazie.

- Still no word.

- No?

But I would not worry. They all come back

as soon as the money runs out.

I've heard of you, of course, but I haven't

had the pleasure of hearing you play.

Well, since I'm not Liberace,

I would be surprised if you had.

You know...

You puzzle me, Mrs Boyd.

In what way?

Remember I mentioned

your voice on the telephone?

Yes.

- And you told me you didn't sing.

- I don't.

I see. Have you ever been on the stage?

No.

Strange, because I have

a very good ear for voices.

Nine times out of ten it tells me...

well, almost everything.

After hearing yours,

even over the telephone,

I could have entered a room

that was full of women

and I could have walked

directly up to you.

That is remarkable.

- But I would have been wrong.

- Why?

Because I would have

walked up to a dark woman.

Dark and sultry, like one of... like one of

Sargent's Edwardian beauties.

And that... is what puzzles me.

Would you mind

if we talked about my daughter first?

You see, you are not by Sargent.

Oh, no. You are by Renoir. Oh, yes.

Definitement Renoir.

Have you ever seen

his Girl in April in the Frick?

- I'm sorry. I...

- Beautiful. All rose and gold.

Golden hair, golden sunshine.

A golden girl smiling in a rose garden.

You're a nymph with a sultry voice.

If you're not in a hurry...

I'd love to have a cup of coffee.

Would you?

Garon, due caff, per favore.

- Merry Christmas.

- Merry Christmas.

- Night, David.

- Night. Thank you again.

Don't forget the school benefit meeting

a week from Tuesday.

- All right.

- Night.

Why don't you call again

and see if they've heard anything?

OK.

I can't imagine where she'd be

if she didn't come here.

She's probably riding

around the subway, poor kid.

Melton Hotel?

May I speak to Mrs Boyd in 3729?

Some Christmas for her, I'll say.

- Hello?

- Mrs Boyd, this is Marian Gilbert.

- Have you heard anything?

- No. That's what I was calling you about.

No, but I've called the police

and the Missing Persons Bureau.

I'm sure she's all right.

You might also be interested in the fact

that I had a word with Mr Orient.

You called Mr Orient?

We won't have to worry

about him any more.

- What did you say to him?

- I can't discuss it now.

I'm awaiting a call from Mrs Hambler.

Good night, dear.

I don't care if she is her mother.

It was a crummy thing to do.

Poor Val.

She really loves him very much.

I know. I went through exactly

the same thing with John Barrymore.

- Who?

- What did you say?

I said who's he,

this guy you went through it with?

You mean you don't know

who John Barrymore was?

No.

- You've never even heard his name?

- No.

Excuse me. It's later than I think.

Isn't there anything we can do for her?

They don't love her.

Nobody loves her but us.

They stick her in schools and

with doctors. Anything to get rid of her.

It'll ruin her. It'll kill her

if she's gotta go on like this.

- I know, darling.

- Couldn't we ask Mr Boyd?

- Of course not.

- But if they don't want her...

You don't know that, not really.

Families have different relationships.

It wouldn't matter, anyway. No matter

what they do or how they feel about her,

they're still her parents,

and children belong to their parents.

- Who fixed that?

- Don't look at me.

But this much we can do. We'll give her

our love as much as we possibly can

and try and make her feel

that our home is also hers.

- If we can do more, then we will.

- Thanks, Mom.

And for the stockings

and the money and everything.

Except for Val,

it's been a wonderful Christmas.

Good night, darling.

And don't worry too much about Val.

One thing about unwanted children - they

soon learn to take care of themselves.

Good night, Mom.

- It's OK. It's me.

- Did you bring anything? I'm starving.

Holy cow!

If you'd let me tell Mom,

you could have cranberry sauce too.

No matter how nice they are,

they all belong to the same club.

The minute it's about a daughter,

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