Hollywood and Wine
RM Pala
Published by RM Pala
Smashwords Edition
This is a work of fiction, and all names, characters, places, and incidence either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2011 R M Pala
All rights reserved
Copyrighted Material
This book is available in print.
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CHAPTER 1
Linda McLane tiptoed between high bookshelves in the ancient library, trying to make each step as light as she could. Every time the wooden floor creaked, she winced and glanced around. You’d think by now, she thought, I’d memorized which boards to avoid.
The librarian stood at the lending desk reading the newspaper.
“It’s all right, Linda,” she said. “We’re the only ones here.” She stretched to see where the girl was. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Linda sighed and ignoring the groaning boards, walked to the lending desk. She looked down at the newspaper as she leaned on the counter and ran her finger along the edge of the wood.
“My uncle took me out of school,” she began. “He found more cleaning jobs for me…” She paused and cleared her throat.
The librarian closed the newspaper and folded it.
“I’m sorry Linda, and so close to graduation, too. Is there anything I can do to help? I’d hate to see you stop learning, or worse unable to come here. You’re my best customer!”
Linda shook her head and kept her eyes on the paper. The librarian smiled and pushed it across the desk. “Would you like to read the newspaper? I’m finished with it.”
The girl looked up and nodded. As she reached for the paper, the cuff of her blazer slid back, revealing an ugly black and blue mark on her wrist. Linda tried to pull the sleeve back, but the librarian was quick and took hold of her hand.
“Again?” she whispered. “Linda, you can’t let him continue to do this. Isn’t there someone you can go to for help?” Linda pulled her hand back. She shook her head. Picking up the newspaper, she took it to a nearby table. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the librarian joined her at the table.
“Be sure to read the article about Prime Minister MacDonald’s health. They say he can barely be understood in Parliament these days.”
Linda spread the paper out. “Who do think will replace him if he has to resign?”
“Well,” said the librarian. “I think Neville Chamberlain has done a good job as Chancellor of the Exchequer, but I suspect Baldwin has the edge. Too bad we don’t have someone like President Roosevelt to give England a New Deal.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh my, I didn’t realize it was so late. It’s almost time to lock up. Would you like to take the paper home with you?”
Linda refolded the paper and left it on the table. She stopped for a moment when she reached the door.
“No thank you. They’d only use it to wrap rubbish.”
Across the village, Reverend Dubois braved the late October cold to post a letter. The soft gray shadows of hundred-year-old oaks pointed east as the sun, obscured by roiling clouds, made its way to the southwestern horizon. On reaching the post box, he pulled the letter out of his pocket and read the address one last time.
“Once you read this, Vera,” he muttered. “You will have to act. You dismissed my first appeal. It is time at last that you know the whole truth. Linda needs you...” Resolved, he pushed the letter into the box. Light snow had turned the shoulders of his coat white. Walking back to the rectory, his steps were slow and heavy. He stopped and looked up at the cross on the steeple of his church.
“Forgive me, old friend,” he thought. “I can think of no other way.”
“Ah, missus, come take your mail.” The postman looked up at the arch of thorns over the gate. Roe Smithers stood up from her digging and took her time crossing the garden as she removed off her gloves.
“I thought if you lived in the village proper, you got delivery to the house,” she said.
“I’ll deliver to your door when you cut down these thorn bushes.” He thrust the letters into her hands and reached into his bag for a package. “This is for Miss McLane.” As if noticing for the first time, he pointed at the patch of ground she was clearing. “Gardening in winter?”
She gave him a strained smile. “I don’t have time for gardening. Flowers are a chore I’ve no interest in. My grannie planted tulips years and years ago. Been trying to dig them all up. As for the thorns,” she said as she waved her hand over her head, “they keep out the riff-raff.” The postman frowned. He touched his cap and took off down the street.
Roe glanced at the package. Startled, she read the return address a second time. She turned toward the house and looked up at the second story window of Linda’s room. Tapping the package, she went into the house.
Linda was in the kitchen washing the dishes from lunch. She failed to notice her aunt staring at her from the doorway and started when she turned around and saw her. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she mumbled as she dried her hands on a dishtowel.
Roe lifted the mail and dropped it on the table. “You’ve got a package. From Hollywood.”
It was mid-November, two weeks before Linda’s seventeenth birthday. She felt a prickling of anticipation in her stomach as she tore open the paper with trembling hands; inside she found a letter, instructions, tickets, a few pound notes and a cheque for a large amount of money.
She read the letter several times before comprehending what she was asked to do; immediately pack up, move to California, and work for a movie star. Her hands still shook as she handed the letter to her Aunt Roe, who hovered close by.
Months earlier she had approached the vicar for help contacting her aunt, and she had just about given up hope that Vera Sinclair would answer his letter. The package’s appearance was sudden and unexpected. Linda’s throat went dry; she didn’t know what to say or do.
Roe nodded, a small smile playing around her lips. “Justin,” she called to her husband. “Linda is leaving us. Read this.”
Justin Smithers entered the kitchen chewing a sandwich and took the letter from his departing wife. Grease stained his undershirt and he let his suspenders hang from his waist. He stared after his wife, then rubbed his eyes and turned his attention to the letter. When he finished reading he tossed it on the table.
“When do you think you’re leaving?”
Linda felt her cheeks burn, frustrated at his presumption she did not have a choice. She retrieved the letter, folded it and placed it back in the package.
“I leave the day after my birthday, from Southampton to New York City,” she read from the instructions. “I take the train from New York City to Chicago and spend the night at a hotel. The next day, I board the train for the rest of the trip from Chicago to California.”
Justin grunted and took another bite of the sandwich. “How do ya think you’re gettin’ to the ship?”
Linda took a deep breath. She gripped the package and wrapped one arm around it. “There’s plenty of money. I’ll call a taxi.”
Justin snorted and sat down at the kitchen table. He chewed for a while and then stopped and looked up at her. “Money? How much did she send you?”
Linda hesitated. “I have to go to London, to a bank on Suffolk Road to deposit a cheque. Vera is very specific in the instructions about what I am to do and when.”
Justin rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Let me see the cheque,” he ordered.
Linda put it away in her pocket. “She says to keep this business as private as possible—from everyone.” She bit her lower lip and turned to leave.
“Maybe your leavin’ ain’t convenient for me.” He smiled, showing yellow, crooked teeth.
The girl froze.
“After all, it’s us who’s been supportin’ you all these years…been your guardians since you was orphaned.”
Linda took a step toward the staircase. “You don’t even pay for school,” she whispered. “You take the money I earn and use it for beer and gin and cigarettes.” She stared at the floor. “I’m going…don’t try to stop me.”
Justin slammed his hand down on the table and Linda jumped. She twisted around, ready to defend herself. He rose slowly and jabbed his finger at her.
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do!” he roared. Linda closed her eyes and turned her head, bracing for the inevitable slap. Justin started to laugh. “You should be whipped, but I’m feelin’ kind tonight. Go on,” he sat down and picked an apple from the bowl on the table. “Take your precious package and go. If I want it, I know where to look.”
Linda reached the stairway.
“Wait,” he ordered. She heard chair legs scrape the floor.
She swallowed and blinked back tears. She felt his breath on her neck and shuddered.
“While you’re here, you’ll keep cleaning houses, just like we agreed,” he said in a low voice.
Her knees shook, but she stood up straight and spun around, causing him to take a step back. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she said.
He raised his hand to strike her, but instead of crouching to protect herself, she stuck out her chin, waiting for his worst. He hesitated, and his arm dropped slowly.
“Two weeks,” he said, wagging his finger at her. “Two more weeks…”
He went to the cupboard and retrieved a bottle of gin. Taking a swig, he set it on the table, then sat down and took another shot. Tilting back, he stroked the stubble on his chin.
“You think it’s bad here? You think it’ll be great with the music hall queen? Let me tell you something. Old Gertie always was the bossy one. That’s her real name: Gertrude McLane. You’d think the name you was born with would be good enough. Vera Sinclair! Posh, ain’t it? The McLane’s always had ideas about bein’ better than the rest of us. I cured Roe of that, right enough.”
He made a fist and swung at an imaginary target in the air. “Didn’t know your pop at all, but they say that even he and your ma had some uppity airs about them. Once yer there, she’ll have you working twice as hard as here.”
Linda clenched her jaw. “By ‘they’ I presume you mean your good friends down at the pub.”
Justin glared at her and took a long, slow drink from the bottle. “Them lads are worth a lot more than any McLane,” he said, the unspoken threat loud and clear. “Especially you.”
Linda turned away and leaned against the sink. She glanced at the stairs, so close. “I’ll arrange my own transportation. I’ll get a taxi from Glenholt.”
Justin laughed. “A taxi? All the way to Southampton? Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Unless you have so much money you can waste it. Pay me and I’ll drive you. I can borrow Davey’s auto.”
She heard him leave the table again. He was behind her and leaned close to her ear. She could smell the cigarette smoke in his clothes and the gin on his breath. Her stomach turned over.
“It’s settled, then.”
She squeezed past him and made for the staircase without a backward look.
“No, really, I will take a taxi.” He grabbed her arm hard and she struggled to break free. Twisting away from him, she ran up the stairs. Once in her room, she shut the door and listened for Justin’s footsteps on the stairs. She stood back. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away as the silence stretched on.
Slipping off her sweater, she ran a finger down her arm. She had plenty of bruises to show for her run-ins with her uncle. The redness left by his grip promised another one. She looked around the room, and went to the dresser. The clothes were mostly second hand but serviceable. She tossed a few things on the bed, clothes she could pack for her trip.
Opening the door so it’s hinges wouldn’t squeak, she avoided loose floorboards and climbed into the attic. There was an old suitcase back in the corner. She was sure they wouldn’t care about it. She cleaned off the dust and cobwebs with a tattered cloth.
Linda left the bedroom door opened as she organized her few possessions. When she turned around, her aunt stood in the doorway, staring.
“I shoulda known that sister of mine would do something like this one day.”
Linda turned away, saying nothing, and continued her work. Roe grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Getting ready so soon? One would almost think you didn’t like it here. Watch what you pack. Only take what’s yours,” she warned.
Linda sighed, resigned to her aunt’s pettiness.
“Course, that’s not much. Maybe we should have a going away party for you. Once you’re in Hollywood living with Gertie, you won’t be coming back here. Not that anyone wants you back. Good riddance, I say.”
She leaned close to Linda and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I never wanted you here, and I am mighty glad to be rid of you. Would anyone come to a party for you? I doubt it. Since you’re not in school, that lot looks down on you for working with your hands. When was the last time any of them invited you to dinner? Used to be a couple of times a week. So, who would come? No one. You don’t have a friend in the world.”
Linda straightened. She took the letter from the package. “Pity I didn’t have family either, until this letter came.” She shoved the letter into her pocket, afraid that Roe might take it.
Instead, Roe began to laugh, a strange, high-pitched cackle that sounded something like relief, but her face still wore a look of utter scorn as she left the room.
Justin stood at the bottom of the staircase. As soon as Roe reached him, he grabbed her, hustled her into the kitchen and closed the door.
“Listen,” he hissed. “We’re going to let her go, but I’m thinking we can make some money from it, better’n what she can make working for us cleaning houses. Gertie will want to keep her once she’s there. We’ll just let her as long as she keeps sending us money every month. Gertie’s not going to want a scandal. She ain’t the girl’s guardian and if we don’t get what we want, we demand she sends her back to us. We control her for another year before she’s of age. Oh yeah,” he added. “We’ll be just fine…better’n fine.”
Roe shook her head. “Why can’t we be done with her,” she whispered. “She’s a damn burden, we don’t need her…”
Justin shook her until she covered her face with her hands. “You’ll do as you’re told, woman. Now get me my tea.”
CHAPTER 2
The next day, Roe sent Linda into town to pick up some groceries. The girl cut through an alley and walked down the narrow cobblestone street to the center of town. The bitter cold kept most citizens close to their home fires, and Linda walked empty streets alone.
The warm shop smelled of apples but it was a stack of oranges that caught her attention. She took one and sniffed; its fragrance made her mouth water.
“Where do these come from?”
The greengrocer stopped sweeping and leaned on the broom. “Those come from Spain. Expensive, but they’re full of juice. Very sweet.”
Linda handed him Roe’s list. She picked out a second orange. “The things on the list go on Roe’s bill, but I’ll buy these myself.”
She was choosing from a large display of cucumbers when Reverend Dubois spotted her and stopped to say hello.
“Linda! Good to see you. Mrs. Dubois sent me out to get fruit and candies for the Sunday school children.” He took her by the arm and steered her away from the other shoppers.
“I haven’t seen you in church in quite a while. How are you?”
She took a deep breath and could not restrain the smile spreading across her face.
“Today, everything is different. I have something to tell you. My aunt Vera has sent for me. I leave from Southampton the day after my birthday!”
She glanced around, then searched her purse for the letter and handed it to the vicar. She had decided to keep the contents of the package with her whenever she left the house. He read the letter and handed it back.
“That is splendid, my dear, I am very happy for you. Please come to see Mrs. Dubois and me before you leave.”
Linda reached for his hand. “I have you to thank for this,” she whispered. “Your letter must have convinced her.” She paused, frowning. “I worry that Justin may still try to stop me,” she said. “I won’t be eighteen until next year…”
Reverend Dubois shook his head. “He will fail. Vera has equal claim. If they went to court, the judge would weigh who was able to provide the best for you. Justin knows that. You need not worry.”
Despite his assurances, Linda did worry, especially about the money Vera sent in the package and kept secret the rest of the information about her plans. A couple of days after her trip to the greengrocer’s she wrapped a shawl around her head and over the shoulders of her wool coat, preparing to walk through the cold drizzle into town to catch the train to London. She needed to get to the bank.
She told her aunt she was going to see the vicar and that she would be gone for most of the day. Roe glared at her suspiciously.
“What business do you have with him that’ll keep you away for so long?”
“He knows I’m leaving soon and wants me to go over the Sunday school lesson plans I did for him last summer. Of course,” she added. “I could call him on the telephone and ask him to come here…”
Roe turned back to the soup she was cooking. “No, no, we don’t want him here. He and Justin will just get into it over something and cause a scene. See that you come straight home. I’ve got things for you to do.”
Linda paid for her round trip ticket at the tiny village train station with some of the money Vera sent her and waited on the frigid platform. The train arrived on time and the carriage was comfortably warm. She arrived at Victoria Station, crowded with passengers, and once on the street, went first to the passport office.
“It’ll arrive via the post in about a week,” said the clerk after Linda finished the paperwork.
Leaving the government office, she boarded a red double-decker bus for Knightsbridge. She wandered past shop windows along Brompton Road, admiring the few early Christmas decorations already on display. She went through Harrods department store, pausing to examine the wide variety of goods from all over the world.
She took a bus to Kensington. Even the dreadful state of the economy could not completely detract from the holiday spirit. Linda dropped some coins in a Salvation Army kettle as four musicians played carols.
For the first time in her life, she had more money than she could spend and with her sudden change in fortune, she was able to sample new experiences. She ate lunch in a tiny café run by a Polish couple who took great delight in introducing her to krupnik, a mushroom and barley vegetable soup, and strawberry pirogues.
Linda visited the Victoria and Albert Museum and made a few purchases at nearby shops. Then she hurried to the bank.
The interior smelled like paper, ink, and cardamom. It was as if she had stepped into a Victorian novel. A row of desks lined one side of the main room with its towering ceiling and clerks stood behind barred counters along the other side. People spoke in hushed tones and most of the bankers wore morning coats.
Linda stood in the middle of the room looking for someone to talk to. In an act of desperation, she stepped into the path of a rushing banker. They almost collided; at the last moment he stopped, fluttering hands raised to adjust his glasses.
“Good gracious, young woman,” he sputtered. “What are you doing here?”
Linda reached into her purse for the cheque. “My name is Linda McLane. I was sent here by my employer, Vera Sinclair, to create an account with this.”
The man’s wrinkled face changed from irritation to delight. “Why of course dear lady, we’ve been expecting you. Your aunt is one of our principle account holders. Come this way, please, we’ll set you up in a jiffy.”
The banker escorted Linda into an office. An elderly man sat at a desk under a dingy window, his pen scratching busily on a tablet of white paper. Paintings of foxhunters, sailing ships, and a landscape of the Lake Country decorated the walls. One entire side of the office was devoted to books. The dingy window behind the desk looked out on a tiny park.
Her escort indicated that she should sit in an overstuffed leather armchair.
“Ahem.”
The man at the desk stopped writing.
“This is Linda McLane, Miss Sinclair’s niece, here to open her account. I’ll just leave you then, call if you need me.” She heard the door click shut.
The man folded his hands. “Your aunt instructed me to provide you with an account and cash in American dollars. I understand your travel plans are set. Are they satisfactory?”
Linda suppressed a nervous giggle and coughed to cover her anxiety.
“I believe everything is in good order. She sent me a package that already contains money, in British currency. I don’t think I will need more. As to the arrangements, I think they are fine, but I must confess I have nothing to compare them to. I’ve never travelled before.”
“If you have the tickets, may I see them?”
Linda took the tickets out of her purse and passed them to him. He examined them and nodded with pleasure.
“These accommodations should be more than satisfactory. Your aunt was uncertain about your needs here in England and once you got to America. She wanted to be sure that you had enough for any circumstance. I will recommend an amount to be withdrawn and we have your cheques already printed. Do you have any questions?”
Linda thought for a moment then shook her head.
“No, you’ve been most helpful.”
“Do you have any concerns about travelling by yourself…alone?”
“No, not really.”
“Excellent. Your aunt will provide you with all the resources you need for the trip. This will be a splendid opportunity to stretch your wings, a challenge to test, if you will, your maturity, confidence, resourcefulness, and so forth. I must say, Miss McLane, I envy the adventure you are about to begin. Ah, Youth!”
He took the papers and few receipts from Linda and took great care as he went over them with her. By the time he finished, he was frowning.
“Miss McLane, you have been most conservative in your expenditures. Such care with money is commendable but please, feel free to purchase those items Miss Sinclair has instructed you to buy. There is plenty, so don’t scrimp.” He leaned forward with an air of confidentiality. “I don’t get to say that often these days.”
He rose from his chair, went to the door and held it open for her. He led the way to one of the tellers, gave him instructions, and turned to face Linda.
“The teller will explain to you how to keep your records correctly. Please take as much time as you need to feel comfortable. Do have a wonderful trip, and enjoy California.”
The young man behind the bars smiled in a way meant to reassure. He began counting out the money, then filled the wallet and showed her how to keep her records in the register.
“Is there anything else I can do for you miss?”
“I think that will be all.”
She took the wallet and cheques and left the bank feeling more secure than she could ever remember.
Storm clouds rolled in from the west and Linda had to hurry to get back to the station before the freezing rains came. When settled in the second class compartment, even as the rain changed to snow, Linda sat in a warm glow all the way home.
CHAPTER 3
Several days after her trip to London, Linda went to visit Mrs. Dubois at the rectory.
The vicar’s wife stood on the steps of the church sweeping leaves. She stopped when she heard Linda call.
She took off her gardening gloves and stuffed them in the pocket of her jacket. “How are you today? The vicar told me about your good news. I’m so happy for you.”
She waved at some volunteers delivering food for distribution to the poor, and then turned her full attention to Linda.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
Linda felt in her purse for the wallet of money.
“I have a favor to ask,” she said, keeping her voice low so no one else could overhear. “I have money for my trip; quite a bit of money, actually. Is it possible that you could keep it for me?” She pulled the wallet out of her purse and handed it to the vicar’s wife.
Mrs. Dubois tucked the wallet away in her coat pocket. “It will be safe here, I promise,” she said in a quiet voice. “I will let Reverend Dubois know where it is, in case you need it and I’m not here. Don’t worry,” she added. “You will soon be on your way and your life will change in so many ways. Keep that in mind whenever you feel alone or sad. Promise me you will.”
Linda nodded. “I will, and thank you.”
When she returned home, she scanned her room, and started setting things back in their proper places. Every day since the package came, she found her belongings disturbed. Some drawers were ajar and she checked the contents before pushing them in. She went to hang up her coat.
In the coat pocket was the money she earned that week. She took out the coins and spilled them onto the bed. She picked out two and sixpence, her weekly share, and held the coins in the palm of her hand. After a few seconds she smiled and tossed them back on the pile. A couple of blouses lay on the floor of her closet. She sighed as she picked them up and returned them to hangers.
The slamming of the front door signaled Justin’s arrival home after an afternoon at the pub. She heard Roe greet him with a complaint about spending so much money on drink and his sharp reply. Arguments usually began over money and ended with violence.
Linda gathered the money from the bed and crept out onto the landing.
“Can’t you wait until after dinner?” asked Roe, her voice pitched high signaling both her anger and her fear. “We can’t make the payments for gas and electricity as it is.”
“Shurup yer mouth and put my dinner on the table!” he answered.
Linda crept down the stairs until she could see into the kitchen. Roe was red in the face, stirring the vegetables in a pot on the stove. Justin glared at her.
“What’s takin’ so long?” he roared.
Roe grabbed the dishtowel and threw it in his face. He jumped to his feet and wrenched her elbow until she went to her knees.
“When are you gonna learn, my girl?” he said and he slapped her with the back of his hand. He threw her down and stood over her. She crawled away from him and sat up, rubbing her sore arm and used the counter to get to her feet.
Roe trembled as she added meat and gravy to the vegetables. She put a plate filled with steaming stew in front of her husband and sat down opposite him.
Justin shoveled forkfuls into his mouth. Linda watched from the stairs, the coins from her cleaning jobs clutched in her hand. She turned to retrace her steps when she dropped a shilling. It clattered on the wooden steps, hitting each one on its way to the bottom.
“What the…?” Justin leaned back in his chair, catching sight of the girl. “Come ‘ere!” he ordered.
Linda retrieved the shilling on her way in to the kitchen and remained standing. Roe stared at the table, her food left to get cold.
“I want to talk to you about this trip…”
“Don’t Justin, I warn you,” Roe snapped. “You’ll not do anything to stop her.”
He stopped chewing and stared at his wife with bleary eyes. “I didn’t ask your opinion. I didn’t ask your opinion about nothin’.”
Linda felt the oxygen go out of the room. Her hand holding the money began to sweat and she shifted from one foot to the other. The atmosphere was so tense she took a deep breath to keep her head from spinning and braced for a fight.
“Here’s all the money I earned this week,” she said as she set the pile of coins on the table in front of Justin. “I’m going to Southampton a day early,” she added as she went to the sink to clean up the pots from lunch. “I’ve not been before and it will give me a chance to see it before I leave.”
Her aunt said nothing, but her uncle grunted.
“I still say it’s a foolish expense to take a taxi. You can give me a couple of quid and I’ll drive you,” he said. “Then you wouldn’t have to pay for a night of lodging.”
He spread out the coins to count them and when he was finished, he stuffed them in his pocket, apparently satisfied the amount was correct.
Roe’s head jerked up to stare at him. She wore a look of weary despair.
“The girl says she wants a taxi. Don’t you get it?” she whimpered.
Justin sneered and drained the cup of tea. “What she wants ain’t relevant, now is it? Maybe she don’t need to go. After all, we’re the ones what raised her, spent money to get her an education. All’s Gertie’s done is send a little cash…”
Roe shook her head, her face grim, and gave him a warning look to be quiet.
“She sent money?” Linda asked, astonished. She stared at Justin. “You said she never contacted you about me. How long has she been sending money?”
Justin waved her off. “Never you mind. Seems to me it’s time we got some return on our investment. You can turn in those tickets and give the bank account to me and I’ll take care of it.”
Linda felt her heart in her throat. She leaned back against the sink for support; her worst fears—that Justin would find a way to keep her from leaving—seemed to be coming true. She turned away, hands on the sink for support, her knees threatening to buckle under the strain.
Roe got up and took her plate to the sink. “No, Justin, I want her out of here and I’ll hear no more about it.”
He rose slowly and took an unsteady but threatening step, his hand in a fist ready to cuff her. She turned in a flash, brandishing a knife from the drain board.
“Back off,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare raise your hand to me.” She looked at Linda, waving the knife for emphasis. “Girl, upstairs and finish packing. You’re out of here today.”
With tears rolling down her face, Linda raced past her seething uncle and ran upstairs.
It was late afternoon and beginning to get dark. Linda made reservations at an inn near the wharf in Southampton and finished packing. Roe and Justin left her alone in the house to go to the pub and when it was time, she left without a backward glance.
She went first to the rectory to retrieve her money.
“Here you go,” said Mrs. Dubois. “Wait just one minute, Reverend Dubois has something for you.”
Reverend Dubois walked into the warm kitchen with a stack of letters bound with a ribbon. He handed them to Linda. “These are letters I exchanged with your father. I want you to have them.” He gave her a hug. “Bless you, child. Your life will be so much better now.”
She stood out in the cold, waiting for the taxi, the old suitcase holding all her possessions on the snow next to her. She wrapped a long wool scarf around her head to cover her ears and long brown hair. Her bare hands ached and she blew on them and clapped, trying to keep warm. She could no longer feel her feet and her toes hurt. The air was thick with mist and the wind created whirligigs of snow that danced across the road. Just when she was sure she was going to freeze, she saw the lights of the black taxi off in the distance, white exhaust billowing up and floating skyward.
“My goodness, young lady, climb in before you freeze,” said the driver, a fat, pink-cheeked man with a ready smile who jumped out to help her into the back seat. He tipped his hat after she sat down and unfolded a blanket to put across her knees.
“I’ll just get your things and we’ll be on our way.” He wrapped his scarf around his neck and retrieved her luggage, which he put in the boot and then slid his large frame behind the wheel.
“Need more heat?” he asked.
“No thank you, it’s nice and warm in here,” she said, as she tried to thaw.
She loosened the scarf and let it drop into her lap. Her long brown hair fell loose down her back and shoulders, and her cheeks blazed bright pink, in contrast to her otherwise pale complexion.
The taxi driver stared at her in the rearview mirror for a moment, and then shook his head as if to clear it.
“Going to Southampton, is that correct miss?”
“Yes, thank you. I take the Victorious to New York day after tomorrow.”
“That is a very fine ship, miss; you’ll like it I’m sure.” He put the taxi in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Linda did not look back at the only home she had ever known as it disappeared into the mist. There was nothing there she would miss and nothing she wanted to remember.
When they arrived at the inn, the driver carried her bag inside and waited until the clerk was free to check her in. He touched his cap and left.
The clerk was a young man, barely old enough to be out of school. “Good evening, miss, do you have a reservation with us?” He slid the register across the counter.
Linda nodded and then stared at the book. She looked up at the clerk and smiled. “I called earlier. May I have a key?” she asked.
The young man frowned. “Certainly, miss, but you need to register.”
Linda ran her finger along the edge of the counter. “Yes, that’s what I’m doing. At least what I’m trying to do. I called to register.”
“Splendid,” he said. “But you called for a reservation. We’ll get you into the room just as soon as you register.” He pushed the book closer to her.
She looked sideways at him, and glanced around the room. A small line had formed behind her. “I really must insist that I be shown to my room…”
“Miss, I must insist that you sign the register!” He jabbed the book with his finger and offered her a pen.
Linda swallowed hard and reached for the pen. “Sorry,” she said under her breath. She signed her name and waited, trying to ignore the stares from the people she made wait.
The clerk turned the book to read the name. “Yes, Miss McLane, we have your room ready. Second seating for dinner is in one hour. The bellhop will show you to your room.”
The bellhop led the way up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to the last room on the left. The gold and red striped wallpaper looked new and large canvases depicting sea battles in huge, ornate gold frames adorned the walls.
He unlocked the door and deposited the bag near the bed. “New owners have renovated the whole place,” he said. “Done ‘er up right, I say. The bath is down the hall on the left and the dining room is downstairs to the right of the main staircase. Can I be of any other service, miss?” He handed her the key.
Linda shook her head and picked up the bag. “No thank you. I think I can manage from here.” She unlocked the bag.
The bellhop made no move to leave.
Linda stopped unpacking. “Is there something else?” she asked.
The bellhop looked embarrassed and coughed into his fist. He stuck out a gloved hand, palm up, and shrugged.
Linda sat on the bed and crossed her arms. “Look,” she said. “I’m new at this. Could you just tell me what you want?”
He closed his hand and stood at attention. “Normally, miss,” he said. “It is customary to tip someone who performs a personal service.”
Linda closed her eyes. “Of course,” she said as she stood up. She retrieved her wallet and removed a ten shilling note. She looked at it, turning it over, and looked at the bellhop.
He shook his head. “Too much. Much too much.”
She stuffed the note back into the wallet and reached into her pocket. She held up a three-penny coin.
He sighed and stared at his shoes. Rocking back on his heels, he tilted his head to one side. “That’s all right, miss. Perhaps I should leave…” he added as he went to the door.
“Wait,” she said. She searched her pocket again. Smiling, she pulled out a shilling. She handed it to him.
He touched his cap and grinned. “Maybe a tad generous, very nice.” He paused at the door. “Miss, if I may…”
Linda looked up. “Yes?”
“This,” he said, holding up the shilling. “Is a very nice tip. I think I owe you something extra for it. May I offer you some advice?” She nodded. “I hope it’s not too forward, but just as a matter of information, it is customary to tip for personal service, like hair dressers, maids, taxi drivers…”
Linda groaned and sat on the bed. “I didn’t tip the driver who brought me here.”
“…but not for pub service,” he continued. “Never you mind, miss. You’ll get the hang of it.” He touched his cap again and left the room.
Finally alone, she looked around. She opened the wallet again and marveled at the thick wad of bills, including several carefully folded five-pound notes. Some of the money was in American dollars of various denominations.
She opened her suitcase and made a quick inventory of her clothes. Picking up each piece of clothing, she ended up rejecting every one in turn. Nothing she had was even close to the kind of formalwear required on board ship. The sort of couturier she needed might not even exist in Southampton. She rubbed her forehead and slammed the suitcase closed.
Dressed in a gray cardigan sweater, a wool skirt, and sensible shoes, Linda prepared for dinner. She tied her long hair back and pinned it with a twist.
When she arrived downstairs, waiters had already seated most of the other guests. The dining room was quite small and the inn’s maître de seated Linda at a table with a middle-aged married couple and their teenage daughter.
“Good evening,” she said, nodding to her dinner companions. “My name is Linda McLane.”
“Reggie Tweeks and this is my wife, Eve, and our daughter…”
“I’m Melanie,” the girl said, interrupting her father. “We’re going on the Victorious to New York in a few days. What are you doing here?”
Her mother looked shocked. “Terribly sorry, miss, Melanie can be very forward.” Her mother frowned. “We can’t seem to break her of it, either,” she said, feigning annoyance. “You needn’t pay her any mind.”
Linda shook out the napkin and put it on her lap. “No, I don’t mind, really. I’m also going on the Victorious, but I’m on my way to California.”
Melanie’s eyes got big. “Wow,” she said. “All the way to California. What are you going to do there? Be a movie star, I bet.”
Linda laughed. “No, I’m going to be the private secretary to a wealthy woman, who is also my aunt.”
Melanie started eating the smoked fish put in front of her by the waiter. “Still say you’ve got the looks of a movie star,” she said.
Linda thanked the waiter when served. “May I ask you something?” she said to Eve.
“Certainly, my dear,” Eve answered, without looking up from her food.
“My aunt has given me enough funds to purchase some formal clothes and I haven’t had the chance to do so. Is there a couturier here that you could recommend?”
Melanie shot her mother a look and grinned. The older woman smiled.
“Would you like to join us tomorrow on a shopping spree? Melanie and I are in the market for some nice dresses for the ship. You would certainly be welcome to come with us.”
Linda nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
CHAPTER 4
Vera Sinclair’s note of instructions was quite specific.
“My dear, you will need a new wardrobe appropriate for southern California. It is always warm, often hot, and very dry. Everyone has a swimming pool, so you will need a swimsuit and bathing cap. Bring at least five evening gowns, and we will supplement formal clothes once you get here. You must have formal wear for the ship, as every dinner requires it.”
Linda was grateful that Eve and Melanie included her in their trip into town to do some shopping. She had several things to celebrate.
The day after her arrival in Southampton was her seventeenth birthday. It broke clear and cold, so rather than walk, the three decided to take a taxi downtown to the store. A saleslady greeted them and escorted them to a private room.
Several dresses had already been laid out for Eve and Melanie to try on. Eve had a full, matronly figure and Melanie was still at that awkward age—long, coltish legs and slender arms. The dresses picked out for them were designed to emphasize their best features.
“I’m so sorry madam,” the saleslady said to Eve. “We didn’t expect anyone else. If you’ll wait just a few moments, we will find something appropriate for the young lady.” She looked cross until Linda slipped off her coat, revealing a youthful, athletic build.
The woman circled Linda, scribbling notes on her sales pad.
“Do you exercise?”
“I swam for the school team.”
The saleslady crossed her arms, apparently satisfied.
“That explains the strong shoulders.” She signaled for one of the other clerks.
“See here, she’s wider than normal at the shoulder and longer in the leg…”
Linda shifted uneasily.
“Is there a problem?”
The saleslady did not answer her. She was deep in thought.
“And she’s taller than usual. Get me the two French gowns we received last week. Oh, and bring the blue one, the floor length with the lace bodice.”
She took Linda by the arm and led her to a large dressing room with a raised platform surrounded by three large mirrors.
“Take off everything down to your shift.” She turned to Eve. “We don’t often get women in the shop who can improve what they wear. I think we have some stunning gowns and quite frankly, until you brought her in, I despaired of ever finding a suitable customer for them.”
Eve and Melanie abandoned their new clothes and followed the saleslady and Linda into the dressing room. They planted themselves on a circular velvet sofa and began a running commentary on the various outfits the saleslady brought for Linda to try on. The blue gown fit perfectly, clinging to every curve, sleeveless with delicate blue lace that covered the entire front from waist to throat. While each dress was attractive, they were all rather conservative.
Melanie fidgeted with mounting impatience until she could stand it no longer.
“Don’t you have anything that shows some, you know, cleavage?” she demanded.
Linda blushed and would have run for cover but there was no place to hide.
Eve hushed her daughter. “Really Melanie, you are too much. But,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect. “You really must have things that, how shall I say it, show her off better?”
Linda felt embarrassed and uncomfortable, fidgeting with her hands and pushing back stray locks of hair. She started to step off the platform, but was stopped by the saleslady.
“Yes! Now, don’t move!” The woman hurried from the room.
Eve and Melanie chatted about which dresses they wanted for themselves and then turned to Linda.
“We like the blue one,” Eve began.
“And the cream one,” Melanie said, interrupting. “The pale pink with the lovely flowers is very nice,” she continued. “And what about the gray, it looks almost like silver?”
Linda looked at the dozen or more dresses scattered around the room. She shook her head in amazement. They were all so beautiful.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “It’s so overwhelming. I could never decide on my own.”
The saleslady returned with a long, red dress that shimmered in the light. It was dramatically different from anything they’d seen. Melanie gasped and covered her mouth. Eve nodded in approval.
Linda was shocked.
“I can’t possibly wear that anywhere but the privacy of my bedroom,” she protested.
“Nonsense, my dear,” said the saleslady. “With your coloring and figure, you may be the only woman in the south of England who can wear it. Agnes, bring me the red shoes that go with this dress.”
In moments, Linda was standing in front of the mirror, transformed. She brushed back her hair, which gleamed with gold and red highlights brought out by the bright lights of the dressing room. Her shoulders were bare, the same fair complexion as her face. The dress fell to the floor and hugged her waist and hips. Its most prominent feature was the plunging neckline.
Linda looked heavenward for guidance. She felt as if she was going to fall out of the dress any moment.
“Am I built well enough to stay decent?” she mumbled as she moved left and right to get a better look at the back and then ran her hand down the front.
The women continued to stare, and nodded in unison.
“We’ll take it,” said Eve.
“No, no,” said Linda, still focusing on her reflection in the mirror. “I’m giving myself this for my birthday. I just can’t believe that girl in the mirror is me.”
Melanie clapped her hands.
“It’s your birthday!” she exclaimed.
Linda nodded and smiled as she turned to look at the back of the dress.
“How old are you?” Melanie asked.
“I’m seventeen.”
“We need to celebrate! We can have a party at the hotel.” Melanie’s enthusiasm was contagious as she made a list of things to do.
Linda’s guard went up and she remained silent. Eve noted the change.
“Perhaps,” she said to Melanie as she watched Linda. “Perhaps Linda would rather not…”
Linda glanced down at the floor and then forced a smile.
“No, its nothing. I’ve never celebrated my birthday, that’s all, at least not in many years. The only party I can remember was with my parents before they died. I must have been three, certainly no more than that. It was long ago…”
Melanie was not to be denied. She turned to her mother.
“Momma, we just have to go shopping for Linda’s birthday!” Her mother looked to Linda for some sign of agreement.
All Linda could do was grin. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Would you like these delivered to your hotel or the ship, or will you take them with you?” asked the saleslady.
“Please have them sent to the hotel for packing,” Eve directed.
Eve and Melanie proved to be inexhaustible shoppers and Linda soon had everything she needed. She bought two steamer trunks to hold it all.
“Of course,” said Eve, when they returned to the inn. “There’s always New York if you need anything else.”
Linda shook her head.
“This should last me a decade or two,” she laughed.
Melanie folded clothes as Linda packed.
“Don’t you want to have one of the eligible young bachelors that always prowl ocean liners to fall in love with you?” she asked, not so innocently.
Linda shuddered. “No thank you, I have no interest in romantic entanglements. From what my aunt said in her letter, I have work piling up for me and I can hardly wait to get started. If there are any such young men on board, you can be sure I will only wear wool plaid skirts and cardigan sweaters.”
Eve and Melanie groaned.
“What’s this about wool?” asked Reggie, who entered from the hall. “And just who is making denigrating noises about it? Surely not my own family, who have benefited so much the product of sheep. Wool is one of my favorite subjects. Made my fortune in cashmere.”
“I think they’re trying to marry me off, or at least push me into a love affair against my will,” Linda laughed, and then blushed at her forward comment to a man she hardly knew. But she also had to admit, she felt comfortable with the Tweeks. “I threatened to use dull wool clothing as protection.”
Reggie folded his arms across his chest and straightened to his full six feet.
“My dear,” he began. “Wool has many uses, but protection from men is not one of them. Especially for someone like you.” Eve gave her husband a light slap on the arm and Melanie giggled.
The continuing comments about her looks left Linda feeling bewildered. She always felt awkward and wanting, especially when it came to how she dressed and how she did her hair.
Her dark brown hair was very full and long but to her it was difficult to manage. Most of the time, she simply tied it back in a ponytail. She hated getting it cut because the few times she went to the hairdressers they were rough with the inevitable tangles. It was better to let one of her friends trim it for her and it cost her nothing.
The day she looked in the mirror at the dress shop, wearing the red gown, her hair cascading over her shoulders, she thought she was looking at a stranger.
CHAPTER 5
The next day, Linda shared a cab with the Tweeks down to the dock where the Victorious was anchored.
“I want you to know,” she said. “I’m ever so grateful for your company. To be honest, I think I’d be lost right now without your help.”
“Happy to be of assistance,” Reggie replied. “Look forward to showing you round the ship in the coming days.”
When they boarded the Victorious, they went their separate ways as porters escorted them to their cabins. Linda had a suite one deck above the Tweeks on the port side.
“Linda, meet us in an hour in the bar,” bellowed Reggie. “That’ll give us time to settle in.”
Once her luggage arrived, she began unpacking, but before she got very far she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
A uniformed steward stepped into the room and stood at attention.
“Miss, may I send the maid to unpack your things?” he asked.
She hesitated and closed the trunk.
“I’m not sure I like the idea of a stranger going through my things and besides, there isn’t very much. I can manage, thank you.”
The young man became flustered and turned beet red. “Miss, please, it’s my job. Could I please be of service?”
Linda smiled and stopped unpacking. She crossed the room for her shawl. The steward looked very relieved and rushed forward before she could change her mind.
“Miss, do you need anything, water or tea perhaps?” he asked. He piled the cases on wooden racks and unlatched them. He turned and walked back to the door. Looking down the corridor, he signaled for one of the maids. In seconds, a young woman in a gray uniform appeared and began opening the bags and sorting their contents.
Linda wrapped the shawl around her shoulders. “No, I’m fine for now. I have plans to meet some friends. Your timing means I won’t be late. Thank you.”
The steward smiled broadly, looking very pleased. “Delighted to be of assistance, miss. I will be your room steward for the entire voyage. If you need anything, you can find me in the last room on the right, or you may ring for me by pushing this button behind the settee. It will be my pleasure to serve you during your voyage.”
Looking very serious, she nodded. “That is a great responsibility but one which you seem fully competent to discharge.” She swept out of the room, leaving the young man beaming.
“My dear girl, where have you been?” called Reggie as Linda entered the nearly empty ballroom bar.
She caught sight of the family and joined them at their table.
“I was becoming acquainted with my very own cabin steward; at least he would have me believe he is completely devoted to serving my every need.”
Melanie was sipping ginger beer. “We always have the same cabin and the same steward. He’s very nice and has ‘been with the company for over twenty years,’” she announced, lowering her voice to a growl and imitated what she probably heard many times before. “He already knows our needs. What’s yours like?”
“Well, he’s very young,” Linda said. “And seems to know his job quite well. He struck me as being responsible and capable. I’m sure he will do just fine.”
Eve leaned close to Linda and whispered. “What are you wearing tonight?”
Linda thought a moment. “I think the dark green velvet…”
Eve sat back and waved her hand dismissively.
“No, no, you can’t be serious. There will be dancing tonight, and you must wear something that will show you off, not cover you up.”
Linda felt her cheeks getting hot again.
“That’s alright, actually, I can’t dance,” she said, feeling embarrassed and awkward.
Eve looked at Reggie and tilted her head in Linda’s direction. He put down his whiskey and held out his hand.
“It’s not that you can’t dance, my dear, it’s that you don’t dance…not yet at least.”
Linda began to protest, but Reggie would have none of it. He slipped off her shawl and handed it to Eve. Melanie turned around in her chair to watch as Reggie led Linda onto the dance floor.
“Now first, you need to know where your feet go. And do not worry; I already know where my feet will be.” Linda giggled, but Reggie was not about to be distracted. “We will start with something very simple; the box step.” He held her hands and guided her expertly through several dance moves.
After an hour of basic steps and turns, Eve jumped up and went to the grand piano in the orchestra.
“A waltz, Reggie!” she said loudly.
As Eve began to play, Melanie clapped her hands. “The Blue Danube,” she said. “My favorite!”
Reggie adjusted Linda’s arms, putting her left hand on his right shoulder, taking her right hand in his left, but when he circled her waist with his right arm, she froze and backed away. Reggie glanced at Eve, who shrugged in confusion. Reggie took a step toward Linda.
“That’s all right,” he whispered sympathetically. “I understand. Let’s continue and we’ll just hold hands until you feel more comfortable.” He nodded for Eve to begin again and swept Linda across the dance floor.
“Splendid,” he said, delighted with her progress. When the dance was over, Reggie bowed to Linda, who curtsied in return. Reggie approached Melanie, bowed and held out his hand. She giggled and climbed down from the barstool.
“Mrs. Tweeks, another waltz, if you please.”
“Oh, Momma, play Nocturne, please?”
“Not a waltz,” she laughed. “But still good for dancing.” Eve began to play and father and daughter danced beautifully together. Linda looked for a nearby exit; she felt a wave of sadness wash over her and was on the verge of tears.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled and before any of them could stop her, she fled the room.
The cabin was immaculate when she returned. The maid put all the clothes away and the trunks had disappeared.
Linda sat down on the bed and began weeping uncontrollably. When the flood subsided, she left the bed and washed her face in cool water. She lay down and stared at the ceiling.
She realized that in part she was reacting to Reggie’s dance lessons. She generally avoided physical contact and was uncomfortable with anything more than a handshake, but she scolded herself that Reggie’s gesture had not been at all threatening.
“It’s your nature to be cold,” Justin said often. “Like the rest of the McLanes. Nasty, uppity attitudes, thinkin’ your superior to the rest of us.”
She always thought she would outgrow her avoidance of closeness, but as the years went by, it got worse. She shivered and tried to think of pleasant things.