THE FLAPPER'S FAN

Chapter 16 - Come into the Parlour

I stumbled down the road in shock.  What was it about me that I wasn't enough for the men I fell for?  Was it just my own bad judgement, was I attracted to men that on on some level I knew would betray me?  I saw Joe driving his cab toward me, probably heading to pick up Nick.  He pulled over and leapt out.

"Are you alright luv?" he asked with concern, taking me by the shoulders.  I shook my head.

"Could you take me somewhere?  Quickly?"

He looked confused then made up his mind.

"Hop in then."

I huddled in the back and as we started to move I saw Nick running down the front steps of Grace's house.  I leaned forward.

"Joe, can we turn around, I'd like to head for St George's hospital."  I would go and visit Charlie, she would know what to do.  "And don't tell Nick where I've gone."

It wasn't too far to the boarding house, which I found easily once the hospital was in sight.  Joe climbed out and opened the door for me, then gave me a withering glance as I pulled out my purse.  "I don't know what happened, Miss, but I can tell ye that whatever you think Mister Nick has done, he would never do anything to hurt you, not on purpose."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said stiffly.  "Just promise you won't tell him."

He looked at me sadly, and I felt terrible for asking him to lie, or withhold information, from a friend and respected employer.  He nodded and I hesitated.  "And Joe, is it possible for you to arrange for Mrs Brewer to pack my bag to bring to me?"  He pursed his lips but nodded again, and I threw my arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek.  He grew quite red and muttered something beneath his breath as he jumped back into the cab, watching me as I walked up the steps and pressed the buzzer before pulling away. 

The house was well-kept with not a cobweb in sight, the door was painted white within a black frame and beside it a plaque proclaimed it as Mrs Henderson's Boarding House for Young Ladies.  A typed sign below on the glass side window bid only nurses and employed women below thirty years of age should apply, and another below that informed there were no current vacancies.  I saw the lace curtains in the glass panel twitch and then the door was opened by the formidable landlady herself.  She was tall and thin with unnaturally black hair scraped back into a tight ballerina bun.  Her eyes were widely spaced either side of a nose sharp enough to cut butter and her lips were a scarlet slash below it, pressed tightly together as she peered down at me suspiciously.  When I asked for Charlie Baker the woman I now assumed was Mrs Henderson informed me in a clipped voice that Charlotte was on the afternoon shift and should be home by 7pm.  I thanked her and she closed the door firmly, but with nowhere else to go I took up a place at the foot of the steps.  Young ladies came and went, all giving me a smile or a curious look.  Eventually Mrs Henderson reappeared.  She took the steps in an efficient manner and stood before me, looking me up and down with no change in expression, her hands clasped before her.

"You may come into the parlour and wait for Nurse Baker.  I can't have you loitering outside my establishment."

Her innuendo was fairly blatant and I blushed but hurried after her into the small room to the right of the front door.  It was Victorian in style with various pieces of mismatched but well kept and possibly expensive furniture and a beautiful cast iron fireplace with intricate tile detail and a well polished wooden mantle upon which sat a number of photographs, including an austere couple, the man with an impressive moustache and the woman an equally impressive bosom, standing either side of a seated young woman I was astonished to realise was a younger, smiling version of Mrs Henderson, and another photograph of a dashing young man in naval uniform, whom I assumed to be Mr Henderson.

"Thank you so much," I gushed, taking a seat in a small overstuffed chair.  The room had the feeling of being unused, and yet it was meticulously clean and smelt of polish.  Mrs Henderson sniffed.  "I will bring you a cup of tea," she announced, without asking my preference.  A few minutes later she returned with a tray, holding a small pot of tea, a tea cup and saucer, a tiny jug of milk, equally tiny sugar bowl and a small plate holding an even smaller slice of cake.  She placed the tray on a small side table and left without another word.

My stomach roiled at the sight of it all, but perhaps the tea would settle it, I thought, as I poured the the dark liquid through the strainer into the cup and added sugar and milk.  I sipped it and found it did help fortify me somewhat, and the process of making it took my mind off my problems, for a moment or two at least. The image of Nick and Grace was emblazoned on my brain, every time I closed my eyes even just to blink I saw the tableau that had been presented to me, and each time, it tore my heart just a little more in half.   I had taken a couple of nibbles of the cake without incident when the door opened to admit Charlie and another young nurse, both chatting excitedly about their day as they removed their capes and hats.  The landlady greeted them and advised Charlie of my arrival.  She looked thrilled to see me, although curious.

"Eddie!"  She gave me a hug, and I felt the tears threaten.  I gave her a watery smile and she appeared startled and then concerned.  "Is everything alright?"

I struggled to speak and then asked in a husky voice, "Charlie, is it possible to stay here with you tonight?"

She gave a sideways glance to the hallway where I was sure Mrs Henderson was still lurking, then leaned to whisper.  "It's not usually permitted, but I'll explain your living arrangements have changed, and maybe we'll get lucky."  She looked around again and then whispered, "Has he turned you out?"  I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.  She knew better than to ask any more and I waited while she searched out the older woman.  They re-entered the parlour together.  The landlady's posture was still stiff but her eyes looked softer, although it could have been my imagination.

"I have informed Nurse Baker that you may stay in her room tonight, just this one time."  She shook her finger sternly at us both, then turned to leave.  Her voice came from the hallway.  "Breakfast is at seven."

"Come on!" Charlie said, grasping my hand and hurrying me up the two flights of stairs to her room.  It was larger than I expected, one of three on that level, plus a bathroom which she quickly showed me on our way.  It was shared by all the girls on this floor and was almost as big as a bedroom with a huge claw-footed tub.  Her room held a single bed made neatly and a divan style couch which was covered in clothes.

"Oh, let me put these away," she said, scooping them up.  "This is where you can sleep."  I watched as she hung the dresses up in the wardrobe and folded the pyjamas into the drawers.  "I have spare bedding in the trundle drawer."  She pulled out a large drawer from beneath the bed and pulled out sheets, a pillow and blankets.  As we made the bed together, I told her what had happened.  She was silent for a moment.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Eddie, not at all, but from what Harry and you have told me, it doesn't sound like Nick at all!  Are you sure you didn't misunderstand what you saw?"

The flash of Grace's beaming face lifted to Nick's as he held her with one arm and pushed a hair behind her ear, their faces so close....

"No, there is no other explanation for what I saw."  I stated.  "And believe me, I would much rather there was."

She looked at me with a serious expression.  "This is not your fault, Eddie.  I know you're thinking of your husband and what happened, and now Nick, but they are not the same, and we don't know what is going to happen yet..."

"Nothing is going to happen, Charlie, absolutely nothing!  If there is one thing I learned from my marriage, it is not to put up with that sort of thing ever again!  I'm not going to make excuses, or think up good reasons why it would happen, because there is no good reason as far as I'm concerned."  My legs wobbled and I sat down on the divan.  She sat beside me and took my hand in hers.

"Whatever you say Eddie, is fine with me.  I'm here for you, no matter what you decide."  She put her arms around me and patted my back gently.  That was all it took, that loving sympathy, for the tears to begin.  And they did not stop for quite a while.