Free The Blunderer by Patricia Highsmith

the hospital.
    â€œHello, Mr. Stackhouse. This is Ellie Briess. Are you all over the flu?”
    â€œOh yes—thanks.”
    â€œDoes your wife like bulbs?”
    â€œBulbs?”
    â€œTulip bulbs. I’ve got two dozen of them. I just had dinner with a supervisor over at Harridge, and she insisted that I take them, but I’ve no place to plant them. They’re very special bulbs. I thought you might be able to use them.”
    â€œOh—thanks for thinking of us.”
    â€œI can drop them by now, if you’re going to be home for the next twenty minutes.”
    â€œAll right. Do that,” Walter said clumsily.
    He felt very strange as he turned from the telephone. He remembered Clara’s accusations. He imagined her numbed lips moving as she said it again. Like a prophecy from the dying.
    A few minutes later, Ellie Briess was at the door. She had a cardboard carton in her hands. “Here they are. If you’re busy, I won’t come in.”
    â€œI’m not busy. Do come in.” He held the door for her. “Would you care for some coffee?”
    â€œYes. Thank you.” She took a folded paper from her handbag and laid it on the coffee table. “Here’s the instructions for the bulbs.”
    Walter looked at her. She looked older and more sophisticated, and he realized suddenly she was wearing a chic black dress and high-heeled black suede pumps that made her taller and slimmer. “Do you get the Harridge job?” he asked.
    â€œYes. Today: That’s who I was having dinner with—my future boss.”
    â€œI hope he’s nice.”
    â€œIt’s a woman. She’s nice. She was insistent about those bulbs.”
    â€œMy congratulations on the job,” Walter said.
    â€œThanks.” She smiled her broad smile at him. “I think I’ll be happy there.”
    She looked happy. It shone from her face. He wanted to look at her, but he looked at the floor.
    Claudia came in with the tray of coffee and the orange cake she had baked especially for him.
    â€œYou know Miss Briess from the party, don’t you Claudia? Ellie, this is Claudia.”
    They exchanged greetings and Walter noticed Claudia’s pleasure in being introduced. He didn’t always introduce Claudia to people. Clara didn’t like it.
    â€œIsn’t your wife here?” Ellie asked.
    â€œNo, she isn’t.” Walter poured the coffee carefully. It was a rich black, stronger than Claudia would have made it if Clara had been here.
    He got the brandy bottle and two inhalers. Then he sat down and was conscious for an uncomfortable minute that he had nothing to say to the girl. And he was conscious of a sexual attraction for her that shamed him. Or was it sexual? He wanted to lay his head in her lap, on the thighs that curved a little under the black dress.
    â€œYour wife works very hard, doesn’t she?” Ellie asked.
    â€œYes. She loves to work hard or not at all.” Walter glanced at Ellie’s eyes. The beautiful outgoing warmth in her eyes was still there, had not changed as her hair and her clothes had changed tonight. Walter hesitated, then said, “Just now she’s sick with a touch of the flu. Well, more than a touch. She’s in the hospital.”
    â€œOh, I’m very sorry,” Ellie said.
    Walter felt very near a cracking point, but he did not know what he would do if he cracked—faint, seize Ellie in his arms, or run out of the house forever. “Would you like some music?” he asked.
    â€œNo, thanks. You wouldn’t.” Ellie was sitting on the edge of the sofa. “I’ll finish my brandy and go.”
    Walter watched helplessly as she got her bag and gloves, took a last pull on her cigarette and put it out. He followed her to the door.
    â€œThanks for the delicious coffee,” she said.
    â€œI hope you come back again. Where do you live?” He wanted to know where to reach