September Wind (21 page)

             
Beatrice took another sip of coffee, then placed her cup into the sink and turned to Emily. “Well… I guess that’s enough for now. Let’s go see your room.”

             
“
Oh, and Toni, don’t forget to have some refreshments sent up to her room.”

At the landing, they turned left and went up another flight of steps where it opened into a sprawling second story. Emily was amazed at how much larger the house was than she first thought. There was another staircase leading to what she figured was
the loft
. Whether it was instinct or what, she was glad they weren’t going up. They walked to the far end of the hallway where Beatrice stopped to open a door. She motioned Emily into a sizeable room. There was a window at the far end with shades drawn up and pink frilly curtains draped to the side.

Emily crossed the room, set her bag on a table, and looked out into the back yard that was even larger than the front yard. There were tall trees and shrubs that circled an enormous grassy area.

Beatrice rested an elbow against the doorframe. “Tomorrow morning I’ll take you shopping and get you some suitable clothes. But tonight I want you to stay in your room and relax, get to bed early. There’s several bathrooms down the hall to your left. Take your shower before the other girls start theirs. Everything you’ll need is up in the cupboards.”

             
She straightened, looking around the room. “So, let’s see, what else is there? Oh yes, and if you need anything, here’s a bell that rings down into the kitchen.” She pointed to a chain dangling next to the doorway. “Just give this a quick pull and whoever’s in charge will come up.”

             
She stepped into the hallway, turning back with her hand on the knob. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll meet you in the kitchen first thing in the morning.”

             
Alone now, Emily went to her bed and smoothed a hand over the lovely pink and white spread, and then moved about the room. Almost everything matched, including the pillows, curtains, flowerpots, candleholders, and a wastebasket. There was even a walk-in closet with a light and a full-length mirror on the door. Right now, she felt like a princess. It almost seemed too good to be true.

             
A large picture above her bed captured her attention, and she went over, tilting her head to the right, then to the left, trying to grasp what it was the artist had in mind. It was apparent many of the women were nude, although it was as if the painting had been thrown together.               There were a number of other smaller paintings scattered about the room that looked much the same.

She studied them with amusement, then went to dig her dirty clothes out of her bag and took them to the bathroom to wash.

              Back in her room, she hung her wet clothes in her closet to dry. She pulled off her shoes, took out the same book she’d been trying to read since she started her trip, and then lay across the bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sunlight filtered through the mesh curtains, dropping a stream of light along the floor, up over the bedcovers, and across Emily’s face. She stretched and yawned, and snuggled back in, reveling in the feel of the soft bed. And then it hit her exactly where she was. She peeked out of the covers at the clock that showed seven forty-five. There was a tray on the table with a bowl of soup and a slice of bread. Obviously Toni’s doing.

             
She sat up and looked down at her wrinkled skirt and blouse, remembering she was about to embark on a shopping trip for store-bought clothes. She took her book out of the rumpled covers, laid it on the nightstand, and slipped out of bed.

             
Excited for the day ahead, she took a quick bath and put on a clean blouse and skirt. On her way back to her room, she listened for any activity, but it all seemed strangely quiet. She fixed her hair, sweeping it up in a ponytail. Then she put on her lace-up shoes, picked up the tray and headed down to the kitchen.

             
An attractive young woman with shoulder-length chestnut hair, probably in her early twenties, sat at the table reading a newspaper. A cup of coffee sat off to the side. There was a basket of bread and jelly in the middle of the table. She looked up as Emily walked in.

             
“
Hi. You must be Emily,” she said, setting the paper aside. “I’m Desirae. Big shopping trip today, huh?”

Emily placed the tray on the counter. “Yep, I’m really excited.”

              “
Say, how long have you been doing this kind of work, anyway?”

             
Emily reached for a bag of puffed-wheat, glancing back. “Actually, I’ve been wondering myself exactly what I’ll do.” She grabbed a jug of milk from the refrigerator, poured some on her cereal, then set it back.  “Beatrice didn’t go into much detail, except that I’d be, let me see, serving guests... maybe guest service, like waitressing or something?”

             
“
Ha, how typical.”

             
“
What?”

             
“
Oh, just thinking out loud. Let me guess. You have no friends, no relatives nearby, and you were in desperate need of a job and a place to stay. Let me see… uhmm... a runaway maybe?”

             
That set Emily back for a moment. She took a seat, ate a couple spoons full of her cereal, and then smothered jelly on a piece of bread. Desirae was right on all counts, but to admit it would only mean more questions. One out of five would have to do. “You’re right about the job,” she said. She took a bite and wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth. “You know I’ve done a lot of cooking.” She really hoped she would be cooking.

             
Desirae giggled. “Cooking? Really? I doubt that’s what Bea…” She thought for a moment. “Well, it’s just that we’ve all learned to leave the cooking to the cook. You can’t get any better’n ole Toni.” She picked up large white mug, raised it in a salute then took a drink, leaving chocolate over her lips. “Mm, my favorite. Toni makes everything better.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Of course, there’s the kitchen in the lounge, but that’s another ballgame in there. Anyway, no need to go into that.” She sipped her chocolate beverage, set it aside, and then began folding up the newspaper. “I think the bottom line is that Beatrice is expecting you’ll fit right in just like all the rest of us have. Hey, I’m just curious. How’d you find out about this place anyway?”

             
“A lady named Maxine brought me over. I met her at
Mack’s House of Food
.”

“Oh, yeah, the waitress. Boy she’s one you don’t ever want to cross.” She tossed the newspaper into a basket on the floor, and then took her cup to the sink. “By the way. Don’t worry about the dishes. Toni insists that it’s her job.”

              “
Where is Toni anyway?”

             
Desirae scooped icing off a roll, licked her finger, then leaned back. “A doctor’s appointment. She just left before you came in.”

             
“
Oh? What’s wrong with her?”

             
“
A couple bunions and an ingrown toenail,” Beatrice said as she walked in. She filled her coffee cup, and then turned to Desirae. “By the way, Toni informed me that you’re tagging along on our shopping trip.”

             
“
If you don’t mind, I thought I’d just look around a bit while Emily’s getting fitted. I’ve got that opera next month, you know. So when’re you planning to head out?”

             
“
Soon as you guys get yourselves fed and dressed.”

An hour later, the women walked into
Poff’s Boutique
. The only time Emily had been in a clothing store was once a year when she went wide-eyed and yearning into
Sears and Roebuck
to buy a pair of shoes and underwear. To be able to buy all these store-bought clothes was something she’d only imagined.

She’d already had her doubts
, but she finally had to admit, as they picked out her fancy dresses, that she wouldn’t be cooking or serving food. Yet, she couldn’t convince herself to bring it up until they had finished shopping and were heading to a nearby restaurant for lunch.

             
“
I suppose with these fancy outfits I won’t be serving food... maybe drinks instead?”

             
“
You’re on the right track,” Beatrice said. “Just you wait, young lady. Once you get all decked out and walk into the lounge, your eyes’ll pop right out of your head.”

             
Emily turned to Beatrice, curious, alarmed, and a little excited, all at the same time.

             
As they approached the restaurant, a distinguished looking man walked out and held the door for them. “Hello, ladies.”

             
“
Hi, Jack,” Beatrice said, all smiles. “How’re you doing?”

             
“
Just grand, just grand,” he said. He placed a newspaper under his arm and headed up the sidewalk.

Inside, a waitress escorted the women to a table in back.

              After they ordered turkey sandwiches, Beatrice’s with a glass of white wine, Desirae turned to Emily. “You know, those outfits you got today really are gorgeous on you.”

             
“
Thanks. Too bad you didn’t find the dress you were looking for.”

             
“
Yeah, I know, darn. But I’ve got some time yet.”

             
“
So... uhm, you’re going to an opera you say? That sounds exciting.”

             
“
My first, so yeah, it’s exciting. Raymond, the guy that’s taking me, he’s gonna culture me.”

             
Beatrice laughed. “Do you even know what the opera’s about? I’ll bet you can’t even tell us the name.”

             
“
Oh gee, it’s some Italian job. A romance, I’m told. Uhm, what was it now, hmm?”

             
“
La traviata,
” Beatrice snapped, “meaning ‘The Woman Gone Astray’. It’s a classic tragedy.”

             
“Still, a romance to some,” Desirae
said sourly.

“
Maybe, but no less a tragedy. Did you know that it’s based on the novel
Camille (Lady of the Camellias)?
Greta Garbo played Marguerite back in 1936.”

“So, don’t ruin it for me, Bea.”

Beatrice lifted her glass. “Take my advice, Desirae, and read the book,” She sipped her wine and set the glass down. “You’ll get more out of it if you do, because the opera’s in Italian.”

             
“
I knew that.”

             
“
Oh, sure you did.” Beatrice chuckled. “Sure you did.”

             
“
You’re just jealous Raymond didn’t ask you.”

             
“
I’ll have you know, young lady, that I’ve already seen the opera. And in fact, I gave Raymond permission to ask you. So, there you are, Miss know-it-all.”

* * * *

A few minutes after five, Emily looked up from the bed and lowered her book as she heard a squeak-squeak, squeak-squeak come up the hallway and stop at her door. Toni gave a warning knock and walked in with a tray. “Here’s tuna on rye and a slice of cake I baked this afternoon.” She set the tray on the table then headed back to the door. “Didn’t know if you liked milk or coffee, so I brought both.”

             
Emily sat up, putting her book aside. “Oh, thanks. It looks good. So, how’re your feet?”

             
Toni looked at her new thick-soled shoes. “Nothing that a decent pair of shoes won’t fix.” She walked out the door, then poked her head back in.

             
“
Just to let you know, Beatrice insists I do a couple days of catering for the new girls. It’s all just a ploy of enticement, to be honest. Anyway, the leg work only lasts another day or two.” She closed the door and left, her shoes squeaking along the hallway.

             
At six, Emily stepped from her bedroom just as a man came from the loft and headed downstairs. A young woman with bleached-blonde hair, dressed in a long white robe, came down right after him, counting out a stack of bills. She was heading to her room when she saw Emily. “Oh! You’re new.”

             
“
Yes, it’s my second day. I’m Emily.”

             
“
I’m Angellee,” the girl said. She folded the money into her bathrobe pocket, reached for the doorknob then looked back across the hallway. “If that’s concern on your face, don’t worry. This is far better than any place I’ve ever worked.”

             
Emily hadn’t been as concerned as she was curious, but now she was equally concerned as curious. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” She watched Angellee go inside, and then went to take a shower.

             
She turned the faucet on high and stood beneath the rushing water delighting in the warmth winding its way down to her toes, trying to keep her mind off what she just saw. This being the first shower she had ever taken, it was an exhilarating experience in itself, but the thrill was soon coupled with a shocking realization that came with a memory of a book she read some years earlier. She was certain the memory had a lot to do with what she had just witnessed, the man coming down the stairs, Angellee’s comments, and the image of her counting out money. It was almost bizarre the way the scene played in her head, piecing together like the designs in a kaleidoscope.

             
The book was one of her grandmother’s about a colorful woman named Sadie who ran a brothel in the midst of the Gold Rush. It had been as if her grandmother had forgotten to rid her library of that particular book because there had been no other of its kind. At the age of fourteen, she had been intrigued at first. But as she read on, she couldn’t help but associate the story with her encounters with Claude. She had put the book down a couple of times in disgust, only to pick it up again when her curiosity got the better of her. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the name of the book. It was what was inside the covers that had rattled, infatuated, and mesmerized her. For weeks after she finished reading it, she had deliberated and reasoned, and finally convinced herself there was no validity to the story, that it was all an invention of the author’s imagination. Whether that particular novel was true or not, she knew she was living in the midst of one of those establishments that very minute. Now all she had to do was leave.

             
She stepped from the shower, grabbed a towel, and vigorously dried herself, wondering what she was going to do. Beatrice said she wouldn’t make it on her own for more than a week or two, if that, and Maxine said that she would never find Samuel. She knew the police were looking for her, and by now were probably aware that she had taken the train out west. It seemed there was no other choice but to stay, at least until she made a little money. She cringed at the idea, and then put on a bathrobe and went back to her room to dress for the evening.

             
At eight-thirty, she stepped from her bedroom and descended the stairway in a sleeveless black dress that suddenly seemed cut far too low for her comfort. The bodice fit snuggly around her waist, hugging her curves as it flowed to mid-calf.

             
She had decided to wear her own necklace. It went well with a gold bracelet Beatrice bought for her. Since her grandmother had not been one to wear makeup, she had never worn any herself. Now she was almost irritated by the red waxy solution covering her lips, and felt awkward in the heels that made her even taller. Even more uncomfortable was the corset that held up her nylons. Yet, when she had put on the last touch of rouge and stood back for a look in the full-length mirror, she thought for the first time that she was quite pretty.