"Where are the snows of yesterday" - Villon
6:45pm
Worcester Pettigrew slipped a large gold 'hunter' watch out of his waistcoat pocket and flipped the lid.
"We are rather early, I fancy, Mr Pettigrew" pointed out a rather fey looking young man sitting at his side at the big, impressively massive mahogany table, behind which the Kalispell town council habitually ensconced themselves at their gatherings. Maybe there was some subconscious justification in that; the table as a sort of fortress against the stings and arrows of outrageous malice that the population at large always felt for the council, of whomever it comprised, and whatever decisions it made.
Everything was always 'the council's fault'!
Wus Pettigrew didn't even look at the blond-maned, bespectacled Forde Patterson Forde Jnr., who had been roped in to the job of amanuensis of the Secretary of the Council: a position that the rotund Louisiana man had appropriated to himself, citing his previous service on similar bodies and his much vaunted knowledge of procedural protocol. The Chairman was, of course, the Mayor, and the position of Treasurer had gone to Miss Steelgrave, the supposition being that the lady was so obscenely rich that she was the least likely to try and embezzle the funds of the fast growing town.
"In my book, Mr Patterson Forde, to arrive 'just in time' for an august occasion such as this, is tantamount to arriving unpardonably late!" the draper announced to the empty meeting hall in front of him.
He sorted the papers before him.
It was exactly two weeks after the bloody confrontation that had left Kalispell Main Street littered with dead bodies, and one of the matters on the agenda tonight was a piece of draft legislation, a would-be ordinance, a knee-jerk reaction to recent events in Worcester's opinion, to the unfortunate events of the 8th, which Pettigrew intended to smother in the crib, as it were.
"Miss Steelgrave was a little late at the last meeting, I fear, yes, rather late!" Patterson Forde pointed out.
"Ahh, Ladies are allowed to be late, it is their prerogative!" the man who lived off the whims and fancies of ladies allowed. It was about the only thing that he would allow that particular young woman. Really! Buying her frocks from Helena!
A door creaked open.
A second member of the council had arrived.
@[Everybody]
Leah Steelgrave moved across the boardwalk in a rustle of petticoats and crinoline under the black and white gown of soft silk, the bodice in white with red trim on either side of and black buttons, off-setting the lower dress section that was in red silk, with a red and white fringed wool shawl. Topping off her ensemble, a small feathered hat. It was, after all an occasion to dress for, and aside from always maintaining her lady-like look, important moments called for the finest clothing in her trunk.
She entered early, as she normally was for any meeting or gathering only to find Worchester Pettigrew and another gentleman she was not familiar with.
"Mister Pettigrew, how nice to see you. I had thought there would be others here already, so I am not late at all." She said, "And this young man? I don't believe we've met." She would wait to be introduced as was the custom.
"Where are the snows of yesterday" - Villon
"Mister Pettigrew, how nice to see you. I had thought there would be others here already, so I am not late at all."
The portly draper stood, of course, on the entry of a lady, but his manner was not particularly welcoming and his reply of "No, in fact you are 8 and a half minutes early, Miss Steelgrave", as he examined his watch, made him sound rather disappointed at the young lady's punctuality.
"And this young man? I don't believe we've met." She would wait to be introduced as was the custom.
"This is Mr Forde Pattison Forde, replacing Mr Wigfall as our note taker. Mr Wigfall is , of course, still hors de combat from the recent attack on his person..." Wus explained as he looked down rather testily at the still-seated blond haired, bespectacled young man "Ahem, Mr Patterson Forde, you appear Sir, to have forgotten your manners, Sir!" He even gave the lad's chair a little kick.
This roused Forde from his reverie, for he had been sitting transfixed by the vision of Miss Steelgrave. Not only did he stand, but hurried around the desk and approached the young woman rubbing his chin in thoughtful appreciation.
"Oh yes, my apologies but I am mesmerised, quite mesmerised, Mr Pettigrew: what an exquisite frock! Oh, Miss Steelgrave, you... are... magnificent!! Ah, the chapeau! So very à la mode, the gloves, a perfect match! Oh, this is a masterpiece, and Mademoiselle wears it so élégamment..."
He fussed about her and then offered his hand to help her to her seat.
"It's no better than any dress I could have created!" Pettigrew muttered sulkily "... don't know why people think they have to go to Helena...
Flip et al.
"Now, Mister Pettigrew, I realize that I have not been to have my measurements taken, but as you might suppose, I've been quite busy with the hospital and all that it has entailed to this point." She replied, and she had it in her mind to have a dress, if not two or three, made, it was just the overload of attention needed with the hospital. But they were back on track and that was the good news, other than her mother's return to Kalispell. And that was something that required a good deal of her time as well.
"What I can say now is that I should be in a position to spare a day to come in for measurements," Leah added with a smile, "And how are the girls making out? You are keeping them busy I hope."
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
"Now, Mister Pettigrew, I realize that I have not been to have my measurements taken, but as you might suppose, I've been quite busy with the hospital and all that it has entailed to this point." She replied.
"Oh! Er, ahem.." Pettigrew spluttered. He hadn't meant her to hear that.
The rather fey Mister Forde Pattison Forde came to his rescue with an excited gasp of "Oh, how delightful for you Mister Pettigrew! How jealous I am, stuck in father's dreadful tailor shop all day measuring man after man for same dreary old suit. How I would love to get stuck into the female form once in a while. But I suppose your Miss Wigfall or Miss Kaufmann take care of all your ladies."
"What I can say now is that I should be in a position to spare a day to come in for measurements," Leah added with a smile, "And how are the girls making out? You are keeping them busy I hope."
"Well, er, yes, fine, fine..." Pettigrew shrugged. He rather enjoyed his secret enmity for Miss Steelgrave, and was proportionately disgruntled at being forced into pleasant social intercourse with the girl.
Once again, the bespectacled junior tailor filled the void. He lay a gentle, confidential hand upon Leah's arm.
"Ooh, Mister Pettigrew gushes about Miss Kaufmann's talents, simply gushes! He says that she will achieve great things one day. And as for Miss Wigfall... ahhhhh. I should perhaps say nothing... I have been told that she and your Father, Miss, have had something of a little tiff of late, and I am wary of intruding upon private family matters" he added, delicately.
"She's good with a sewing machine." Pettigrew grunted.
"Unfortunately for me, several of my dresses will need repair work, and some, well, I'm afraid they have seen better days and are destined for the trash heap. So, my good sir, I can tell you that you, and not any shop in Helena, or anywhere else will be getting my business will be getting my business." She promised.
"Oh, and Doctors Danforth and Boone will be looking for new suits as well, and you sir, will be getting all of that business." She went on, "We will need to look our best, with meetings we will be having with suppliers as well as prospective employees, so you can see that we will rely on you and your staff to look our best."
All of that would be true, they all needed to look the part for the meetings, and for interviews, other than the forthcoming Doctor Laurant, unless she would also need new ensembles after she arrived in Kalispell..
A town is only as good as the timbers that form its buildings.
Christoph entered the municipal building 3 and a half minutes after Leah Steelgrave. Surveying everyone who was already in the room, he nodded as he removed his hat. "Good evening, all." He bowed to Leah as he found a seat at the large table where the young Patterson Forde was already seated.
He had hurriedly made an appointment for a new suit fitting with the Patterson Fordes when they first opened up shop, and so already knew the young man (although he wasn't sure which of the twins he was looking at). He was afraid his waist measurement had grown since the last time he'd had a new suit, but had been relieved to find the changes were minimal.
"Mr. Pettigrew. Miss Steelgrave." He greeted each one and settled into his chair with a sigh. "I don't relish the task ahead of us this evening." No doubt there would be many different views on this proposed ordinance, and it would be difficult for each member of the council to reconcile his or her convictions with those of everyone else.
It's not a question of who's right. It's a question of what's right.
Matt stepped in the room shortly after Alders had sat down. He had wanted to delay his arrival to give Speed and Pike the time they needed to get ready for the meeting. He also wanted to avoid any discussion about the proposed gun ordinance since he, in the event of tie, had the deciding vote. Besides it wouldn't look good if his vote was swayed by either side with any small talk beforehand.
Looking around the room he couldn't see either of the two lawmen or Harriet Mercer, the only town council member not present. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too much longer as the meeting was scheduled to start at seven o'clock. If they didn't arrive in time, he would have to use some delaying tactics.
Walking up to the large table, he greeted all who were present before taking his seat.
Oh dear, we're all of a flutter!
While Pettigrew was somewhat grumpy and testy, even before the meeting had begun, young Mister Patterson-Forde, even though he was, at the end of the day, only there to write things down, was the very soul of conviviality and chattered away in a manner that filled a rather awkward void - a gulf of interests and attitudes that separated the august personages that made up the Committee.
"Oh, Daddy will be chuffed when he hears about all of this new business that is coming his way!" he twittered "Oh Mr Alders, Mayor Wentworth, don't you both look splendid tonight in your suits! Of course, the fashion now is for a rather fancier vest, but I personally think the more dour colors add a touch of gravitas so very suitable for an occasion such as this. Now..." he messed about with his papers and agenda "I think I have everything ready, but where is your Miss Mercer?" he asked eagerly.
"Hmph! Probably won't even come!" Pettigrew huffed.
Patterson-Forde shook his head "Oh tut tut tut, Mr Pettigrew, cheer up, do! Come, let us rather choose Optimism and say to ourselves: Miss Mercer SHALL come!!"
@[Stromwolfe]
Leah looked around as Mister Alders and Mayor Wentworth entered the room. "Good evening, gentlemen." She greeted. "As nice an evening as we've had for a meeting." Even with a nice day in the low fifties, the daylight stretching out into the evening, and, no rain.
"I think I have everything ready, but where is your Miss Mercer?" he asked eagerly.
"Hmph! Probably won't even come!" Pettigrew huffed.
Patterson-Forde shook his head "Oh tut tut tut, Mr Pettigrew, cheer up, do! Come, let us rather choose Optimism and say to ourselves: Miss Mercer SHALL come!!"
Stormwolf, Bailey, JulieS, Javia
"Of course, she'll be here if she is in town. She is after all a busy woman with her law practice and helping at the Lost Lake Ranch." Leah assured the grumpy Mister Pettigrew.