Rosalind and Susie Take a Room
I'm a little obsessed with Kay Kendall. This extract from one of my stories imagines her 'Genevieve" character - Rosalind - renting out a new room for herself and Susie the dog.
Justine placed the advertising card on a Friday lunchtime and by Saturday afternoon, Rosalind and Susie were panting on the doorstep. Justine opened the door to the two delicious females in fur coats. They had obviously traversed the pavements at some speed.
"I say, it isn't gone is it and would you be an angel and allow me to move Susie in too?"
Justine looked down at Susie, a large, hot looking hound. Although her tongue hanging pant gave the appearance of merry laughter, her brown eyes looked up at Justine with what she came to think of as an Oliver Twist expression. It was irresistible. From room-rattling loneliness to a paying guest and a pet in one day was dizzying. But it was time to Carpe Diem.
"No, no it's not gone. In fact you're the first to enquire. Would you like to come in and see the room?"
"Oh you darling! Yes, I would like to see the room but I'm positively sure it will suit."
The three of them clattered down the stairs, heel and claw. Justine thought of a conductors batton claiming attention for the next movement. Rosalind glanced about her, Susie made for the closet and settled down on the cool floor.
"Susie approves and so do I! I'll go and get my belongings and move in tonight."
Justine felt a little railroaded, but not displeased at the swift conclusion. "Oh! That is quick...I mean it's wonderful...but don't you need to give notice to your current landlord?"
"Oh no, we all need to be out as quickly as possible. We're being redeveloped, you see. They're knocking us down imminently."
"Ah, I see, yes. There's a lot of it about."
"Yes, apparently we're making way for something modern but functional."
"Oh dear Lord."
"Quite. Frightful, isn't it? I say, may I have the key now? I've quite a lot of paraphernalia to move. My dear friend Ambrose is going to help - you'll like Ambrose he's such a dear. And you don't mind if Susie waits here do you? She'll be perfectly well behaved, she doesn't need anything although I'm sure she'd deeply appreciate a bowl of water." By the time Rosalind had finished speaking she was back upstairs and at the front door.
Justine fished about in the drawer of the hall consol table for the key. "By the way, which instrument do you play?"
Rosalind stopped, mouth half open, puzzlement flitting briefly across her brow. "Oh yes! It's a requirement, isn't it...may I ask why?"
Justine explained as briefly as she could - she had grasped that Rosalind would not endure a lengthy monologue - about her music fanatic aunt's legacy.
"Ah, queer aunts, absolutely adore them. I play the trumpet, when the opportunity presents itself." Justine had her down more as a pianist for some reason. Candelabra and diamanté cuffs.
Rosalind was by now through the front door and halfway down the steps to the street. "I shall be back with all my belongings in a matter of hours. And my advance rent too - until then, you have Susie as your willing hostage. Don't let her run you around!"
She hailed a taxi and was gone.
Justine closed the door and leaned against the final curve of the stair rail for a moment, waiting for the ringing in her ears to subside. Even then, her heart throbbed unusually. Somehow, Rosalind had charmed a key from her without any down payment of rent. This could be some sort of elaborate way of breaking in. Rosalind could be a gangster's moll - after she did look quite glamorous. The dog had been left as security. Perhaps she was trained to attack the poor sap looking after her when Rosalind and her gang returned after dark. Having worked out their elaborate plan, she realised there was nothing in the house to steal. Rosalind had only seen the room that she was going to take, and there was certainly nothing there to tempt the thief. Justine herself was quite obviously not one for jewels and the like. All the same. She decided to call the police if Rosalind had not returned by nightfall. Around 8pm at present. Enough time for her to collect a pile of luggage and bring it back.
Justine tiptoed downstairs to have a look at the dog Susie. Susie remained where she had been left, flopped on the closet floor. When Justine stood in the doorway, the dog pulled herself onto her paws and looked steadily into her eyes, panting away like an old engine chugging up an incline.
"Hello...Susie?"
Susie licked her saggy chops and whimpered a little.
"I think you probably want a drink of water, don't you? It is a little warm today."
Susie whimpered again, gave a slight swish of her tail.
"Extraordinary. I think you do. And you know what I'm saying."
Justine had never owned a dog - had never been in one place long enough. Her knowledge of them extended to drinks of water and bones. It had never occured to her that they might have personalities, intelligence. She looked at Susie, her brain calculating the dawning of something new. The dog licked her lips again, a tail swish fainter than before.
"Come on then." Justine climbed back up to the ground floor, followed diligently by clacking claws. She led the way into the kitchen and opened the cupboard that contained the larger bowls and roasting tins. "I suppose the thing can't be too deep? Although that tongue of yours is quite lengthy..." She found something that looked suitable, a crazily cracked white dish which she filled almost to the brim. The water spilled and splashed out onto the kitchen floor but Susie didn't mind the mess. She worked rhythmically through the lot. Justine was mesmerised, waiting until she lifted her head from the dish with droplets hanging messily from her jowls. Her pink tongue swooped around her muzzle, then she sat with a look at Justine of long suffering patience.
"I suppose that means that you want something to eat now?"
Again the whimper and the tail swish of assent.
"I don't know what I have that you'd like...a little corned beef perhaps?" The corned beef was going to be Justine's Sunday lunch. It was too late to go and buy anything else now. "I know, a tiny bit of corned beef and a small chunk of cheese. Do dogs like cheese? I don't suppose it would satisfy you either. But I really have nothing else to give you. Oh dear. I wish Rosalind would hurry up."
Susie gave no indication of her opinion, she contined to look, with those eyes.
Justine emptied the dregs of water and crumbled the food offerings into the dish. Susie's tail swished with more enthusiasm and her eyes developed a look of being totally in love with the hands that prepared these offerings. Once placed on the floor, the dish was emptied within seconds. Susie turned from the cleanly licked crockery, stands of spittle hanging from her jowls that swung with her as she walked back towards the staircase. She tacked cautiously down to the basement again. Justine, remaining at the top of the stairs, heard a distant thud as the dog settled back into position - presumably one that she had been found in earlier.
In the event, Rosalind returned not long after this episode in an even more dramatic fashion than her previous arrival. A curious, elderly looking car pulled in at the kerb, all bright paintwork and brass that reflected the early evening sun. Rosalind climbed out and began to remove hand luggage while her driver, a slightly plump and cheery fellow, hopped out and began to remove cases from the back seat. Justine, who had been hovvering by the front window playing gramophone records to try and disguise her unease at the whole situation, went out to help.
"Here I am again!" Rosalind beamed at her. "It took longer than I expected, I'm so sorry, I hope Susie behaved. Ambrose! Meet my new landlady! I am awfully sorry but I can't remember your name...?"
"It's Justine McCarthy." She found that she spoke almost apologetically.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Mac!" Ambrose dropped a suitcase onto the pavement, which bulged like a primed bomb. "How do you like the car, eh?" He stood back and looked lovingly on to his machine.
"Oh Ambrose!" Rosalind interjected as she lifted a vanity case in one hand and a hat box with the other. "Justine's not interested in your old jalopy! Let's get these things inside."
Between the three of them, they emptied the car and gathered Rosalind's belongings into the hallway of the house. Susie, having been woken up by the commotion, ambled back up the stairs to administer what seemed to be the official welcome to the house.
"Oh darling Susie there you are! You've made yourself very at home, haven't you? Who's a good old girl then!"
"I gave her a big drink of water from an old bowl. And then she seemed hungry so I gave her a little corned beef and cheese. I hope that's alright?"
"But of course! Susie and I adore scratch suppers don't we my darling?"
Ambrose dropped the final box onto the floor. "But not tonight! Let's get the paraphernalia into the room and get away for a decent meal and some dancing." There was a small beat before he invited Justine to join them, but Justine's music ear heard it too well.
"No really, thank you all the same. I'm not enthusiastic about dancing. I'll stay with Susie and get to know her better."
"Ah well! There goes my chance to be a rose between two thorns eh?"
They began to shift the luggage down the stairs to Rosalind 's new room.
"Is this your trumpet case, Rosalind? You did say that you played the trumpet didn't you?"
"Ha! Does Rosalind play the trumpet? I'll say she does! You should her seen her in Brighton the other week! What a woman! I guarantee that will be the one image that everyone who sees her will keep forever."
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