It was getting to be late afternoon as Gilly made her way back to the inn. She had left earlier to see to her family’s needs, and now that the pressing ones were taken care of she felt freer to go back. The boys will just have to make do with leftovers, she thought to herself. Surprisingly, Carl had not balked at her returning to the Green Dragon as she had imagined he would. “Just so as you don’t starve your children or bring home any bad influences,” he had put it. This was in jest of course. Carl was an excellent cook and frequently referred to his wife as “virtuous”. It a quite effective way of keeping her in line that he had discovered early on in their marriage.
She however, had always considered her interaction in the larger course of events outside Bywater as somewhat of an important feature in her life. It had made her see the Shire in a different light and she had valued it all the more for that. But now as the diminutive Mrs. Banks made her way back to the inn, she was vaguely wondering if her husband’s remark was a reflection on her parents or perhaps her own upbringing. She put the thought out of her mind. Why spoil the day brooding. And it was a beautiful day, although hot. The night’s rain had washed the air and freed the hedges and grasses along the road of their dusty coats. The world was looking clean and new.
Yes, why spoil the day, Gilly reminded herself as thoughts of Benia parents began crowding her mind. It seemed strange how one could assume someone to be living only to find they had died so many years ago. Such unfortunate deaths as well. She hoped that Benia being half-caste might escape the drama of her parent’s lives. The thought that she might discover her friend to have died a terrible death years after the fact produced a painful tinge in the hobbit’s heart together with a visible shutter. All that she has left of her mother is a ring, Gilly mused. Poor Benia, with a seemingly rootless existence and so little mathom to lend her an anchor in the storm! How sad.
As Gilly walked up the road approaching the Green Dragon she met Halfred Whitfoot carrying his empty satchel and mopping his forehead.
“Hello Mr. Whitfoot! You’ve a fine day for mail deliveries, haven’t you?”
“Sbit too hot for me!” he replied, slurring every so slightly. “Miss Gilly” he began again
“There, there’s a letter…at the inn. Carl says in the morning, leave it here.”
“Are you quite alright Mr. Whitfoot? You look as though you’re not well. Would you like me to find you something to drink? This heat can take it out of you, you know.”
“No, no, jus' fine Mrs. Banks… really fine! Good day Mrs. Banks.”
Gilly stared after him for a few minutes, trying to decide if he needed assistance. Convincing herself that he probably knew best, she walked on.
The sun being at it’s hottest, activity in the yard had slowed for the time being. As she approached the inn Gilly noticed a man checking on a horse. She thought this to be the same man she had seen watching Benia yesterday and felt troubled by it. He’s too quiet to be up to any good but he hasn’t shown any signs of being bad, she puzzled.
She hurried inside to find Benia.
[ May 31, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
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