Never Land the First Fish

Epilogue: Part 1

Gills dashed hither and yon, taking care of a problem here, a difficulty there, just a small thing, but... It was but an hour before his first "spectacle" would begin: a reprise of the orchestrally accompanied Walk Amongst the Stars, featuring Emily Kilbrierry, the London Symphony Orchestra, and Lord Maddox, the Hero of Kabul, the same outdoor lecture series they had done together in New York to remarkable reviews.

Across the park, he saw Julia wave her arm to gain his attention, so he headed for her. Since they'd married, she'd made a place for herself in Gills' enterprise. She was in charge of the contentment of any and all of the performers, so if she had a problem, it would take priority. After only being stopped twice for other questions, he reached Julia's side.

"Yes, my love?"

"Emily is quite ill. She swears it will pass, but Maddox is suggesting she not appear this evening."

"Ill? What is wrong with her?"

"A bout of biliousness, I'm afraid."

"Biliousness? Can someone not give her some soda crackers?"

"Precisely what she suggested, but Lord Maddox, I'm afraid, has suddenly become something of a tyrant." Julia gave Gills a quick glance and he cottoned on.

"I see. I suppose you think perhaps I can talk Maddox back into his right mind."

"The thought occurred."

"Very well, I will try."

They reached the tent set aside for the featured performers, and Gills was surprised not to hear any yelling through the canvas walls. But Emily, he surmised, was a consummate professional, who would never make a scene where the newspapers might see or hear her, and Maddox wasn't the sort of man to raise his voice. All to the good, if Julia's account was true and he was acting so stupidly with his intended bride.

"Am I allowed to know?" Gills whispered to Julia as the got to the tent.

"Yes, I would have told you earlier, but you have been so busy the past few days."

"Knock knock," Gills said, by way of announcing themselves.

The flap of the tent flew open and Emily stood on the other side, face thunderous.

"He has gone somewhere else, lest I break with him. One of the maids is bringing me some soda crackers."

"So... er..." Gills began, "There is no problem with you performing after all?"

"The only person with a problem is the brainless nincompoop who thinks it his right to tell me what to do."

"Am I given to understand," Gills offered tentatively, "you are in expectation of a blessed event? Congratulations are in order?"

Emily narrowed her eyes at Julia, who simply said, "You never said I shouldn't tell my husband, and it was my job this evening to tell him anything that might put tonight's spectacle at risk. When Maddox began making noises of concern and you did not, I thought it wise to bring him fully into the picture."

"Yes, a 'blessed event' is in the offing, which does not entitle anyone to tell me what I can or cannot do in any case."

"Of course not," Gills agreed affably, with a speaking glance at Julia. "Sincere congratulations from both of us, and if you will excuse me, I must check to make certain your counterpart is still planning to undertake a discussion of the mythology of the constellations. Julia, if you could make certain Miss Kilbrierry has everything she needs?"

Gills hurried to the tent he shared with Julia, the headquarters of the event, certain he would find Mad depleting the medicinal brandy, waiting to talk Gills' ear off about his fiancé's irrational fear of weddings, when what Gills really needed was another four hours, instead of—he stopped to check his watch—forty-two minutes until showtime.

Emily and Maddox would be married in short order, before the Paris performance on their tour, where some of both families would converge. Until then, they could act like adults and put on the show they were paid for. And Gills could stop fretting about a Paris show that wasn't even imminent.