17. Estelle

17

Estelle

C hristmas Eve soon arrived, and I had yet to secure a position. I'd faced slammed doors, expletives followed by commands to leave the premises, and cold, hard stares. If there was a way to be rejected and dismissed, I'd endured it. Yet I could not give up hope. I'd decided it was merely bad luck and vowed at the end of each day to stay hopeful. My father may have used his tenacity for evil, but I would tap into mine for survival.

The morning before Christmas, I sat outside the office of an attorney advertising for a secretary. I'd come to apply, standing in a long line of young women and men, after seeing the advertisement in the Times that morning. When it was finally my turn, I was called into a small interior office. A middle-aged woman with cold eyes sat behind the desk. After introducing herself as Miss Wright, she quickly explained that she was hiring her replacement. "One last gift before I go." She glanced down at the curriculum vitae I'd put together and shopped all over town. Her mouth twisted; she clicked her tongue. "This won't do. Not at all."

"Pardon me?" I held my breath, praying silently.

"Mr. King is a tyrant who wants things as he wants them. This job is not for the faint of heart." She swept her gaze over the entirety of my person and seemed to come to a conclusion about my past. "Or for princesses."

"I'm confused?" What did she mean?

"The way you're dressed, and your way of speaking tell me you haven't had to work before now, which would also explain the lack of references and the fact that you can't type."

I'd heard this more times than I could count. "I'm a quick learner."

"The rest of the girls who come in here have been to secretarial college. You might have thought of that before applying for this type of position."

I had exactly one dime left to my pitiful savings. If I didn't find something soon, I'd be on the street come the first of the year. "Please, I'll do anything." I fought tears of frustration. This was impossible. I should curl up in an alleyway and wait for the elements to do their bidding. There was no way onward or out of this deprivation and loneliness.

She pushed the paper back across the desk. "I'm sorry, Miss McCord. There's nothing I can do for you."

Any remaining energy seeped out of me, and I was left like a rag doll, limp and without life. I didn't even bother to thank her for her time, just hauled myself out of her office and headed for the street.

I walked home in the frigid weather blindly, tears obscuring my vision. Flakes of snow fell lazily from a gray sky. It was nearly dark already, even though it was only late afternoon. Tomorrow was Christmas, and I'd never felt more alone.

My thoughts drifted to my family and then to the Bancrofts. Was I destined to always be sent away from the people and places I loved?

My feet somehow took me to Central Park. The beauty of the landscaping, plants, flowers, and ponds always cheered me up. Plus, it was free. No one could charge me to look at beauty.

I didn't want to return to my cold, lonely room just yet. The last few days had been progressively more depressing. I imagined the Christmas at home. Mireille would have her first Christmas. Although she probably wouldn't remember it, the others would. My sister always loved Christmas, and it would be heightened with a child in the house.

Memories of Christmas past came to me. If it was like other years, our cook would serve a scrumptious meal of roasted goose and all the fixings. My mouth watered thinking of the fluffy warm rolls smeared with butter and mounds of mashed potatoes. I'd grown so thin the last few weeks that none of my dresses fit. I was hungry all the time these days. The thin gruel in the morning and tasteless soups and stews in the evenings were not enough to nourish me.

A layer of snow blanketed the park. People were out for walks, alone and in couples or groups. Children and adults alike skated on the ponds, shouting and laughing with the sheer joy of being outside in the cold air. My thin coat was not enough to keep out the frigid weather. I tightened my scarf around my neck and walked faster to warm myself.

I didn't see the woman until it was too late. I'd already crashed into her. I opened my mouth to apologize, only to see Luella standing there. Transformed. No longer did she wear her tattered, thin dress. It had been replaced by a fine silk dress, wool overcoat, and hat with a large plume.

"Luella, you look beautiful," I said, grasping her outstretched hands.

"I'd like to say the same to you." Luella looked me over, head to foot. The sympathy in her eyes told me more than even her words. "You're thin enough to be carried away by a slight wind."

I started to sob. She took me into her arms, patting my back. When I paused to take a breath, she led me by the hand over to a bench situated near the walking path.

"You've not found work?" Luella asked, not unkindly but without the sympathy one would expect upon seeing an old friend looking dreadful.

"There's nothing for me anywhere. I have no skills or references. I don't have money for rent. I'll be kicked out to the street come the first of the year. What will I do?" I didn't try to curb my bitter tears. There was no pride left in me. They'd managed to take the rest of my self-respect and hope.

Luella patted my hand and let me cry for a few more seconds. "All right, here are our choices. I can give you the money for your rent and to get you by for another month. But at the end of the month you'll be in the same bad way."

"I can get a job at a factory, maybe?"

"Or you can come home with me. Miss Scarlet will feed you and let you stay for Christmas. We're having the grandest affair tomorrow with food and dancing. Some of our clients will join us, of course, but for the most part it'll be us girls. We have a lot of laughs; I can tell you with confidence. You would enjoy yourself."

"And at the end of the day? After Miss Scarlet's kindness has been spent? What then?"

"She'll bring you into her special parlor and talk to you. Get to know you a little. If she finds you pleasant and believes you can get along with the other girls, you'll be asked to stay."

"But how do you do it? Isn't it disgusting?"

"We have only the finest men of New York City frequenting our establishment." The pride in her voice was undeniable. "Miss Scarlet charges high enough prices to ensure that. Anyone who tries to rough us up or harm us in any way is banned for life. Believe me, no one wants that. In just the short time I've been there, I already have a half dozen regulars." She looked around, presumably to see if anyone was listening. But no one noticed us at all, too busy enjoying the day. "One of my clients is a senator. Can you believe it? Little old me entertaining such a fine man? There's also a headmaster of one of the most prestigious private schools who enjoys my company."

"Are these men married?"

"Most of them."

"Why would they look for comfort outside of their marriage?" I asked.

Luella laughed. "After all these months in the city and you still don't understand anything, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—men rule everything. What they want, they take. If they're not satisfied at home, they come to us. Anyway, most marriages are miserable. Miss Scarlet told me the wives of some of our clients know exactly where their husbands are in the evenings they visit us. Others may have a suspicion and are only too happy their husbands don't ask for anything upon their return home."

I thought of my own parents. Did Father enjoy activities outside of his marriage? If he did, was Mother bothered? It was too ugly to think about.

My stomach growled, loudly enough for Luella to hear.

"That's it. You're coming with me. At least we'll get you fed and sheltered for the holiday."

I would have liked to think I was strong enough to resist the offer, knowing what it might lead to, but I was weakened from hunger and cold and loneliness. I followed Luella home to meet Miss Scarlet for myself.

Miss Scarlet's house of ill repute was an ordinary-looking brownstone on a tree-lined street near the area of the city known for its theaters and dubious activities. My mother would have fainted dead away to see me walking up the front steps of a brothel, but there I was doing just that.

Before we went through the front door, Luella gestured down the street. "All along here are what Miss Scarlet refers to as ‘love nests.' That's where gentlemen take care of their mistresses. They have whole apartments all to themselves. Can you imagine their good fortune?"

I didn't say anything, merely followed her up to the front door and into the foyer. If I'd not been raised in wealth and privilege, it might have seemed outlandishly posh. Instead, it seemed like home. Luella took me into a beautifully decorated parlor where a dark-skinned maid brought me tea and a tray of cookies. While I waited, I stuffed several into my mouth to tame the hunger in my stomach.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

I looked up from brushing crumbs from my lap to see a fine lady standing before me. Dressed impeccably in a pink silk dress and high-heeled shoes I was certain cost more than I'd make in a month at the factory, she appeared to be around thirty, with golden hair cut short and coaxed into attractive waves.

"Not at all," I said hurriedly as I rose to my feet. "I've been enjoying the tea and cookies."

Miss Scarlet extended her hand, and I took it, noting the dry, soft texture of her skin. "Please sit. Are you still hungry? I can order a plate of sandwiches."

"Yes, please. I'd be grateful."

"Consider it done," Miss Scarlet said.

I returned to my seat on the sofa. She took a similar position across the square coffee table. "Luella tells me you've had a rough time of late. What can I do for you? Other than a meal?"

"I…I don't rightly know, Miss Scarlet. I've been unable to find work and it's the holidays and I feel so alone." I hadn't meant to share all of that, but hunger made me lightheaded. "Luella and I happened to see each other in the park, and she brought me here out of the kindness of her heart."

"Luella's very popular with some of the boys. I often send her out for parties. She has a natural way about her that men respond to. One of them told me recently she's like a party all on her own."

"Party?" I asked, squeaking.

"Yes, in addition to entertaining gentlemen here at my club, I'm often asked to send girls to liven up a party or impress customers." She peered at me, green eyes narrowed. "Tell me, what's your sad tale? I know you must have one or a well-bred lady such as yourself would not be sitting across from me."

"I was engaged to a man I loved very much. He died before we could marry, but I was already pregnant."

"I see."

"My parents asked me to leave and never return," I said. "I'm on my own and not doing terribly well, I must admit. My life of ease has not served me well. I have no skills."

"What happened to the baby?" No judgment tainted her voice, merely curiosity.

I told her the entire saga, including leaving the baby with my married sister and being taken in by a nice family who helped me recover.

"Why have you not remained with them?"

I debated with myself for a second or two. Should I tell her what had caused them to send me away? In the end, I decided honesty was best. I'd told too many lies of late, none of which had ended up serving me in any positive way. "They discovered my real identity."

"Which is?"

"I'd rather not say. Apparently, my father's done a lot of harm to a lot of people, including the people who took me in. They were not so kindhearted once they understood who I really am. They sent me away forthwith."

"‘The sins of the father are visited upon the children.'" Miss Scarlet poured herself a cup of tea from the kettle and helped herself to a cookie.

"Yes, ma'am."

"My father was a preacher and very strict and morally superior, or so he claimed. I wouldn't say sending away your daughter after an act of violence on her person is something to feel proud of."

I nodded. "What did you do to evoke this punishment?"

"I was raped and became pregnant. When I told my parents, they sent me to a place for an abortion. The doctor botched the procedure. I nearly died. I'll not be able to have a child because of it."

I winced. "I'm very sorry. Is that how you became a…" I couldn't say the word. Even if I could, would it offend her? I had no idea what the rules were in this kind of work.

"The path that led me here was like yours, circuitous and unexpected. It starts innocently enough, at least in one's mind. I at first thought of them only as dates where I was given a meal and a fun night in exchange for the type of currency a woman can use on a man. There's nothing free in this life. We must pay one way or the other. After a time, I came to understand that in order to enjoy a life without hunger, I must use what I had—my beauty and personality. One learns over time how to cloak a mind and heart in layers of apathy and self-deceit. Anything is endurable for small amounts of time. Especially when it leads to a good meal." She smiled and sipped from her teacup before continuing.

"One thing led to another. I'm a natural leader, I suppose. I saw quickly that it would be better for the girls to have me looking over them than one of the nasty pimps. These men take wages and give girls a bloody nose for their trouble. Here, I can keep the girls safe. Any hint of aggression, and the men are tossed out on their ear. Those who enjoy themselves here are of a certain economic class. They have needs not fulfilled in other ways, which brings them here. But it's not only physical desires that are taken care of here. We provide a chance to party and enjoy food and drink. Even dancing. We have interesting parties, full of artists, writers, and actors. Men do business in my parlor. Laws are discussed. I provide a safe place where my visitors can be themselves without fear of repercussions and enjoy an environment free of societal pressures. They can be who they truly are here."

"You said anyone violent is forbidden entrance. Thus, not all are granted the privilege of entry?"

"That's correct. Yet another benefit of running my establishment as I see fit." Miss Scarlet gave me another long, searching gaze. "I can see you're skeptical, and I by no means am interested in forcing anyone to do what they don't want to do. However, if you'd like to attend our party this evening, you will get a better sense of what it would be like to be one of my girls. In the meantime, let's get you fed. You need a meal, not a couple of tea sandwiches. Afterward, I'll send you over to our seamstress for a new gown. Our clients expect the girls to look like ladies."

"I don't have any money to pay for a new dress." My stomach rumbled again.

"It's on the house, sugarplum," Miss Scarlet said. "For now."

She didn't say anything else, but the message was loud and clear. She fully expected me to stay.