The Christmas Eve Letter: A Time Travel Novel (12 page)

Albert Harringshaw had listened to the doctor with mild amusement.  He was well aware that the doctor’s dramatic and outraged performance was given solely for him, so that Albert, his benefactor, would witness the doctor’s steely dedication and conscientiousness.  Thus being satisfied and impressed, Albert would keep paying the doctor’s invoices.

Eve knew that Helen would prefer that she stay tucked away in her room, away from any possible contact with Albert.  Eve was certain that Helen was concocting some plan to get Eve out of that house and forever out of Helen’s and Albert’s lives.

On Sunday, when Millie told Albert that Eve still wasn’t seeing visitors, he composed a note to Eve and instructed Millie to deliver it immediately.  When Eve read it, she sighed and shook her head.

Dear Miss Kennedy:

I cannot hide my disappointment at not being able to visit with you either Saturday or Sunday.  I am hopeful that my communication finds you in improved spirits, with your health virtually restored.  I look forward to our next meeting with pleasure and anticipation.  Meanwhile, if you have need of, or wish for, anything whatsoever, please contact me, as I am your most dedicated and humble servant.

—Albert Harringshaw

Eve folded the page and tossed it into the fire.  She watched it curl, crinkle and burst into flame.  She could only hope that Helen had not seen Albert’s note.  His brazen flirtation with Eve added yet another layer of anxiety that she didn’t need or want.

On Sunday evening, Millie reported that Albert and Helen had gone to dinner at Delmonico’s and then they were off to the theatre. 

Eve did not understand how Albert could be engaged to one woman, probably a wealthy woman of his own class, and be out running around with another.  Weren’t there social conventions in 1885?

When Millie arrived with Eve’s dinner that night, Eve took the opportunity to ask her about it.  Eve was sitting at the oak desk, documenting her thoughts and feelings, and bullet-pointing possible action plans.  Millie delivered the dinner tray on the side table and started for the door.

“Millie, I am slowly recalling facts about my life, and I am certain now that I have only recently arrived in New York.  I suspect I am a small town girl who doesn’t know much about this city.  I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

Millie paused at the door, about to reach for the doorknob.  “I suppose so, Miss Kennedy.”

“Millie, how can Albert Harringshaw be seen in public with Miss Price when he’s engaged to a woman of his own class?”

Millie turned to face Eve.  She shrugged.  “He’s very rich, Miss Kennedy.  Rich men can do what they like.  Most of the papers don’t report it.  I guess Mr. Harringshaw pays them off.  At least that’s what I hear.”

“I wonder how Miss Price and Mr. Harringshaw met,” Eve said.

Millie lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.  “The cook, Mrs. O’Brian, said Mr. Harringshaw met Miss Price when she was performing at the Fifth Avenue Theatre.  She was very popular.  A lot of rich men used to wait for her at the stage door.”

“Miss Price is an actress?”

“She was.  Mr. Harringshaw demanded she leave the theatre after he bought her this house.  Mrs. O’Brian said that Miss Price insisted he purchase it for her or she wouldn’t leave the theatre.  So she picked out this house and he bought it for her.  He pays for everything.”

“And do you know anything about Albert’s brother, John?”

Millie shook her head.  “Just what I told you.  He’s engaged to Elizabeth Ashley Loring
. 
Her family is very rich too.  Their engagement was in all the papers.”

“When did they announce their engagement?”

“The first of February, just before the great blizzard.”

“Blizzard?”

“Yes,” Millie said, nodding.  “You must remember the February blizzard.  Unless you weren’t in the city then.  If you were, you’d never forget it.  The telephone lines all came down and the wind was so frigid that horses froze to death, and children, too.  Many children who lived on the streets died from the cold.”

Eve sat still, her eyes probing Millie’s animated face.  “Yes…I think I remember.”  She paused.  “You said John Allister Harringshaw came here once.  Did you actually see him?”

She nodded.  “Yes.  John Allister and Albert were in the parlor arguing.  I was just inside the door to the service entrance.  I was going to bring them tea and sandwiches, but when I heard them arguing, I waited.  The door was open just enough for me to see them standing near the fireplace.”

“What does John Allister look like?” Eve asked, eagerly.

Millie’s eyes filled with a dreamy haze.  “He’s tall and very handsome, much more handsome in person than the sketches of him in the newspapers.  But he’s quite different from Mr. Albert.  He’s quite severe and restrained in his manner.  He refused to meet or talk to Miss Price.  I heard him tell Mr. Albert that he was a philanderer and should break off his relationship with Miss Price immediately and marry Miss Anne Hopkins.  He said that Mr. Albert was scandalizing society and soiling the reputation of the Harringshaw family.”

“What did Albert say?”  Eve asked.

“Mr. Albert laughed and told his brother he was a hypocrite.  He said he knew about the poor girl John Allister was secretly seeing.  He told his brother not to try to push into his personal affairs, when his own were soiled and tarnished and disrespectful to society and to the Harringshaw family.  Albert said that if John Allister ever approached him again on the subject of Miss Price, he’d live to regret it.  Albert said he’d expose John’s poor little wench to the entire world.”

Eve straightened, her eyes round with interest.  “Did Albert say who the poor girl was, Millie?  Did he say her name?”

“No, Miss Kennedy.”

“What did John Allister say?”

“He did not say anything.  I could see he was quite enraged, but he did not speak.  He got very quiet.  Then he left the house abruptly, without another word, and he has not been back, as far as I know.”

“How long ago was this, Millie?”

“About two months ago.”

Eve went into thought.  “August?”

“Yes.  Around the middle of August.  It was a very hot night.”

Eve looked down at the floor, her mind racing.  On the desk was the suede purse filled with cash that Helen had given her. 

“Millie… is sixty dollars a lot of money in the city?”

Millie pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes falling on the purse.  “Oh, yes, Miss.”

“How much is that?  I mean, can I buy a lot with sixty dollars?”

Millie looked at Eve, struggling to understand.

“I know it’s a strange question, but it’s very important.”

“You can buy a lot of things with sixty dollars, Miss Kennedy.”

Eve went for another approach.  “How much do most working people in the city earn in a week?”

Millie shoved her hands into her blue apron pocket.  “Well, my brother’s a carpenter.  He makes sixteen dollars.”

“For forty hours a week?”

“Oh, no, Miss.  He works at least sixty hours a week.”

Eve ran a hand through her hair.  “Wow.  We
have
come a long way,” she said, forgetting herself for a moment. 

Millie squinted a perplexed look. 

“That’s a lot of hours, Millie.  How many hours do you work a day?”

“At least twelve, six days a week.  Sometimes more.”

“That’s more than 70 hours a week.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Eve shut her eyes and massaged her forehead. 

“Will that be all, Miss Kennedy?”

Eve opened her eyes, an idea forming.  “When is your day off, Millie?”

“Monday.”

“Millie… I was wondering.  Could you show me around?  I mean, show me around the city?  I do not feel confident going out by myself and I have some errands to run.  I could use a companion and a tour guide—someone who knows the city.  I’ll pay you of course... say five dollars.”

Millie’s face lit up.  “Five dollars!  That is a lot of money, Miss.”

“Will you be my tour guide on Monday, Millie?”

Millie beamed.  “Yes, Miss Kennedy.  Yes.”

Eve looked toward the closet, where the two dresses hung.  Eve had examined them earlier and she didn’t have a clue how to wear the things or what exactly she’d wear under them, or how she was supposed to look in them.

“Millie, can you show me how to dress like a real city lady?”

Millie stared at her with curious fascination, and then she lowered her gaze.  “Miss Kennedy, I do not wish to be impertinent, but where did you get those clothes you were wearing the night you first arrived?”

Eve scratched the end of her nose.  “From a place that’s far away from here.  Very far away.”

“But how did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

Millie suppressed a giggle.  “I’ve never seen shoes like the ones you had on.”

Eve deflected the conversation.  “Will you show me how to dress, Millie?”

Millie twisted her hands, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm.

Millie threw herself into it, presenting Eve with all the garments she’d need.  First there were the drawers and the chemise and the corset, then the petticoat, the corset cover, the bustle, the underskirt, the skirt, the bodice and the beaded capelet.

Millie took the dress from the closet and held it up.  It was an elegant brown wool bustle dress, with a velvet trim that came with matching round-toed boots.  With great pride, Millie presented each garment and then meticulously assisted Eve as she put them on, including the dreaded corset.

Surprisingly, the boots and the dress were a satisfactory fit, except that the corset restricted Eve’s breathing.  With all the undergarments and the pleats, the hem and the length of the thing, she felt like a dressed up turkey.

Next came the makeup. 

“Just lightly powder your face,” Millie said, applying the powder.  “Miss Price likes rosy cheeks, lipstick and eye shadow in moderation.  She used to apply a lot more makeup, but Mr. Harringshaw asked her to use less after she left the stage.”

Then Millie worked with Eve’s hair.  Since Eve’s hair was shoulder length, Millie pulled it back and then parted it in the center, creating two long, curly fringes that hung on either side of her face.

When she’d finished, Eve stood up and stepped hesitantly before the full-length mirror, looking at herself critically, and then standing back two steps.  Little by little she adjusted the dress to her hips, wriggling a bit to fit the corset and adjust the shoulders.  Eve turned first left, and then right, feeling the gravity of the bulky dress, like it was an anchor.   She swung it about, listening to it rustle, first ambiguous, then self-conscious and finally, pleased.  The transformation was remarkable, and she turned to view a stranger: a smartly dressed woman from another time and place, staring back at her with the hint of a proud grin.

“You look so beautiful,” Millie said, taking her in.  “The dress fits you perfectly.”

Eve shook her head.  “I look like a big chicken.”

Millie laughed.  “I’ve never heard such a thing, Miss.  Please do not think me disrespectful, Miss Kennedy, but you look much improved in these clothes. The clothes you wore when you arrived were plain, and somewhat immodest.”

Eve turned toward her.  “Thank you for all your help, Millie.  What would I have done without you?”

Millie blushed and averted her eyes.

“Where shall we meet tomorrow?” Eve asked.

“At the Washington Monument at Union Square?  Do you know where that is?”

Eve smiled, warmly.  “Yes, Millie.  I do.  I’ll see you there at 9am.”

After Millie left, Eve strode to her desk and managed to ease down, feeling the fight of the bustle and corset.  She definitely felt different in Victorian dress, more formal and certainly more constrained. 

Eve plotted her next move.  From her telephone conversation with her father—that now seemed a lifetime ago—she’d learned that, in 1884, Evelyn Sharland had been employed as a telegraph operator at the Western Union Telegraph Company, at 195 Broadway.  One year later, she might still be working there.

It was time to meet Evelyn.  Eve hadn’t yet figured out what she’d say to her when they were face to face, but she’d think of something before tomorrow.

CHAPTER 11

At 8:20 on Monday morning, October 27
^th
, Eve left her room and descended the stairs, fully dressed in the bustle dress, an ankle length navy coat with a cape attached, gloves, a bonnet with straw and feathers, and a parasol.  Seeing her from the partially opened parlor doors, Helen slipped out and met Eve at the bottom of the stairs.  

Helen looked her over coolly, with unintentional admiration for Eve’s style and poise.

“Well, Miss Kennedy.  You are on your way out, I presume?”

“Yes, Miss Price.  I am.”

“Have you completely recovered your memory and your health?”

Again, Eve chose her words carefully.  “I am better, thank you.  I thought a walk would improve my overall constitution, especially since the day is so bright.”

“Yes, it most certainly is a bright day, with plenty of sunshine.  Will you meet someone, Miss Kennedy?”

Helen was a nosey one, Eve thought.  “Perhaps I will be fortunate in that regard, Miss Price.”

The vagueness of her answer stirred Helen’s annoyance and suspicion.  “Indeed.  I wonder who the fortunate person might be.”

Eve smiled, warmly.  “One never knows, Miss Price.  In my case, I am simply wishing for a peaceful walk and some restorative fresh air.”

“Ah, yes.  I think fresh air will do you a world of good, Miss Kennedy.”

Out of the corner of Eve’s eye, through the partially opened parlor door, she saw the back of a man.  He was well-built, with good shoulders, wearing a dark woolen suit.  His hair was black and curly, but she couldn’t see his face.

Silence hung in the room, while Eve speculated and Helen calculated. 

“I should be going,” Eve finally said.

Helen stepped back and Eve started for the front door, its ornate cut glass window covered by a fine French lace, tinted now by glowing morning sunlight.