Читать книгу Miss Lamp - Christopher Ewart - Страница 7

§

Service with a Smile.

For the seventh time since 6:42 a.m., Miss Lamp reminds herself that she loves the law and that grilled cheese goes quite well with warm tomato soup. She grins and picks at the fat manila envelope marked DELANO.

A crisp knock at the door brings a push of manila out of sight. ‘Yes?’

‘Room service, ma’am. Um, I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any Campbell’s Tomato Soup. But there’s a Safeway down the street and I’d be happy to get some for you – it’ll be five minutes or so. I’m really sorry because I know you asked for Campbell’s Tomato Soup specifically and, well, we’re all out, ma’am.’

Miss Lamp nibbles at a hangnail. His voice sounds young. Fresh. ‘Oh. I’m not sure then.’

Room Service Boy knocks again, less crisply.

‘Room service, ma’am … Um … do you still want the grilled cheese? Golden brown, wasn’t it? I can go to Safeway, ma’am, I don’t mind. It’s my job.’ Room Service Boy prides himself on customer satisfaction.

Miss Lamp clenches the nail between her teeth and pulls. Halfway to a crescent moon. ‘Ow! Jesus!’ The flesh underneath turns purple and red in a hurry.

‘Ma’am? Are you okay?’ He shuffles his feet closer to the door. The hallway smells of mothballs and tea. ‘Ma’am, do you still want the grilled cheese? Golden brown, cut to corners.’ Room Service Boy counts to himself. ‘In four, with a pickle on the side?’

Miss Lamp removes a throbbing finger from her mouth. It tastes like a pretty penny. ‘No. Not now. Maybe later when you have the right soup.’

Miss Lamp requires the right kind of soup.

The envelope returns to its place while Room Service Boy responds with a humble ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ Her voice gives him goosebumps. As he scuffs back down the hall, he sniffs at the armpits of his purple uniform.