Especially by the rather dramatic method of poison in a public place.
Adelle was adept at interpreting expressions and she correctly guessed at Auntie Lil's. "You better tell her everything, Eva," she ordered her friend. "It's really not the time to hold back."
Eva looked miserable. "She just never liked me," she admitted finally. "If she had been nice to me, I would have been nice back."
"Of course she didn't like you," someone pointed out. "You were horrid to her."
"She always seemed to get better parts than me," Eva defended herself.
"That wasn't her fault," Adelle interjected.
"Better men, too," Eva added stubbornly. "It was as if God sent her to follow me around and snatch everything I wanted right from my hands just as it was within my grasp."
"Nonsense." The tiny old woman who had crossed Eva before spoke up again. "You just enjoyed suffering so much that every time Emily got something, you convinced yourself that you had wanted it, too. It was you that created those situations, not her. Honestly. Sometimes I think you would have done a better job than Julie Harris in The Lark. You've had enough practice being a martyr."
Eva sniffed unhappily. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I did try to be friends with her these last three years. And she'd have nothing to do with me. She liked to have her secrets and she'd never tell me what they were."
"Secrets?" Auntie Lil asked. "Like what?" She saw Fran glancing over the dining room with a proprietary air and quickly bent her face down low. It might be best to remain discreet, considering that being thrown out by Fran was not in her plans at the moment. In fact, she'd rather die than endure the humiliation. Provided it was a peaceful death, of course.
"I don't know what her secrets were," Eva was saying indignantly. "Like I said, she wouldn't tell me."
"What did she tell you exactly?" Auntie Lil asked patiently.
"She said that things around here were not as innocent as they seemed," Eva announced mysteriously. "She said this neighborhood was like quicksand. Smooth on the surface and unholy underneath."
Adelle flapped a hand. "Oh, please. Don't bring that up again."
"What up again?" Auntie Lil stared from one old lady to another.
"She means Fran and Father Stebbins," one actress finally answered. "Though I don't think there's a thing to it."
"Of course not." Adelle dismissed the idea with an elegant flap of her long hands. "Father Stebbins has far too much taste for the likes of her."
Auntie Lil glanced behind the counter. Fran was hovering near Father Stebbins, talking earnestly and getting little reaction from the preoccupied priest.
"I certainly hope you're right," Auntie Lil said.
"Of course I'm right," Adelle insisted. "I admit Father Stebbins is given to clichés, but breaking his vow of celibacy is not one of those clichés."
"She hinted at having younger friends," Eva added. Her brow was wrinkled in thought, an expression that turned her heavily lined eyebrows into twin questions laid on their sides. She really was trying to help Auntie Lil.
"Younger?" Auntie Lil said. "What gave you the impression they were younger?"
Eva shrugged. "She let it drop that she was bringing a younger man to see Cats, I think it was. She said something about hoping she could keep up." Eva glanced around the table, pleased at the effect her pronouncement had on the group. Mouths open wide, they gaped at her, trying to reconcile the image of an aloof Emily dating a younger man.
"Well, you could interpret that many ways," Auntie Lil said.
"That's what I mean," Eva agreed. "She was always hinting at things without ever really saying anything. Just because she knew it drove me crazy."
"It isn't much to go on," Auntie Lil told them. They looked ashamed and she stirred uneasily. "Look here," she added, hoping to brighten their moods. "Did any of you ever see her with anyone else?" They all shook their heads no. She opened her giant pocketbook and rummaged inside, producing the dime store strip of photos. "How about one of these boys?" she asked, passing the photo around the table.
They took turns scrutinizing it carefully, some of them holding the strip only inches from their eyes, but no one recognized either of the boys.
Auntie Lil sighed and packed the photos back inside her pocketbook. She saw that Fran had finished speaking to Father Stebbins and was eyeing the floor of the dining room as if intending to make a sweep through the tables. The image of Fran grabbing her