Disclaimers: Of course I don't own this Newsies nonsense! What were you thinking- silly gooses! Okay, sorry about the wait for the last chapter. I have the whole story mapped out in my mind, so things should be rolling along quite smoothly from now on. No guarantee on how long it will be until I finish- I'm hoping before July, because then I'm off on a crazy bunch of vacations and I'll never update. GOD! There I go- a'ramblin' again. Marshy, you understand about my rambles- and well, everyone who's been reading this story should be used to them by now. Much love! Read on!
Chapter Fifteen
Things were not going well. Moira had been on three different interviews in one week and none of them had gone as well as she would have liked. She had been late for two of them, one due to the train and the other due to her own foolishness for not thinking of being punctual. And the third had seemed like a short-lived nightmare. The headmaster of this school was a rather rigid elderly woman who sat up so straight that Moira wondered if she even knew how to slouch. That had probably been the worst- the woman, Margaret Donovan, had swept into the room looking immaculate, in a striking blue suit with her white hair tied at the top of her head, took one look at Moira and said "no, I don't think so." Just like that! Without any cause or reasons at all!
On top of the job search (which was going downhill and picking up speed as it went), Mush had come home with an awful cold a few days ago. Within hours, Kid Blink came down with the same symptoms, followed by Racetrack, then Pie Eater, Snipeshooter, and by the end of the week, the entire lodging house was filled with the sounds of coughing and sniffling. Hardly anyone was working. David, Les, and Jack were among the few who managed to crawl out of bed every morning to haul themselves down the distribution office for the morning papes. Moira was trying her best to make sure they all stayed in bed and got plenty of rest, but she soon realized that a) they all shared beds with at least one other person, and b) there was nothing she could do for them without a doctor. So, Moira called the doctor, who, after a day and a half, finally stopped by the LH.
"I'm sorry Miss Bailey, but I just don't have the time to examine all of them!" He exclaimed, when she told him she had almost fifty sick boys that needed to be looked at.
"Well, just examine one of them, then. They've all got the same bloody thing." Moira snapped, wanting to be able to get work done again, without having to worry who was coughing on whom. Sighing, the doctor grabbed a random newsie and gave him a quick inspection.
"Looks like a mild case of influenza, to me." He said, after a few minutes, pushing Specs away as he began to cough again. Moira rolled her eyes.
"What do you suggest I do about that?" She asked, scratching her neck.
"Are you responsible for all of these boys?" He wondered, marveling at how many there were.
"What kinda question is dat? A' course she's 'sponsible for us! If we didn't have our Moira, we'd all be dead by now." Racetrack hollered hoarsely from the other room.
"Yeah, dead!" A chorus of sick newsies echoed.
"As I was saying, Miss Bailey, my best advice to you would be to make sure they get plenty to drink and lots of rest and try to 'atone' to their needs. With any luck it should pass by itself." With that, he tipped his hat and left before she could ask any more questions.
Sighing, she went back behind the desk where a pile of clean blankets were waiting, where she had told Mrs. Jacobs to leave them the previous morning. She scooped them up and walked back into the common room.
"Who's cold?" Moira asked, as Bumlets kicked off his afghan,
"I'm hot."
"I'm cold." Itey grabbed Bumlets' discarded blanket and another one from the pile.
"I'm cold too." Racetrack grumbled, sounding like a child. She tossed him an extra blanket and felt everyone's foreheads. Still fevers. After everyone upstairs and down were blanketed and cared for, Moira collapsed in her chair behind the desk. However, as she yawned, she caught sight of the time. It was two thirty. She was due at her interview at three. That left her only a few minutes to get from the LH and onto a carriage where she would need to be taken all the way across the city, which took more than a half an hour.
Leaping to her feet, she pulled on her hat and jacket, grabbed her portfolio, and flew out of the house, calling behind her,
"Wish me luck, boys!"
"Good luck!" They croaked out, amidst their coughing spells. Moira almost ran into an elderly couple as she stumbled into the street and flagged down a carriage.
"Where to, love?" The driver, a fat man with a stubbly chin, asked, as she slid onto the smooth, black leather seat.
"Souderton Academy, please." She instructed, straightening out her hat and hoping she would get there on time.
When the carriage finally pulled up to Sutherton Academy, Moira, who had been praying so hard her fingers hurt, checked her watched and gave a frustrated sigh while paying the driver a few coins. She was fifteen minutes late. The great oak doors of the Academy were opened for her, and she scurried inside, nervously fidgeting. The heels of her shoes clicked as she hurried along the enormous marble corridor, looking for someone who could help her. At the end of this great entrance hall was a flight of marble stairs. Someone instructed her to go up them and seek out the Headmistress. She heeded this advice, and marched up the stairs, where she found yet another oak door, with a small, gold, plaque that read Headmistress. Moira checked her letter, which told her that she had an appointment with the headmistress, said another quick prayer, and knocked timidly on the door.
"Come in." She pushed gently on the door, and saw that it led to an office, with a rather large man in a suit, sitting behind the desk. The man himself was enough to make Moira, a nervous creature by nature, want to drop her things and run back down the hallway. She didn't, however, and took a few timid steps into the office. "May I help you, Madame?" He asked, standing up to his full height. (At least 6 and half feet.)
"Headmistress?" Moira managed to squeak out, as he stepped a few steps nearer to her.
"Is she expecting you?" She nodded, looking straight up at the man who was at least a foot taller than she. "Just a moment." This 'secretary' left the small office and opened the door at the back of the office, which had a gold plate to match the one on the first door. Moira heard them talking in hushed tones before the man stepped out of the way, smiled a short, impersonal smile, and said, "You may go in."
She walked into the second office, finding herself in an absolutely enormous room; lavishly decorated it was just beautiful. There were rich, upholstered sofas, shiny, polished, wooden floors, it seemed like every inch of the office was glittering with polish and shine. There was also a desk. Behind the desk, a large, bay window that over looked a valley behind the school. And standing in front of the window, with her back toward Moira, was a woman.
Dressed like all of the headmistresses Moira had met with in her time, this woman was wearing a forest green skirt and jacket, cream silk blouse, and a little tie around the collar, the same color as the suit. She had red hair, swept up in a bun atop her head, with a few strands twirling around her long, graceful, neck. She turned around suddenly, and Moira saw how beautiful she was. She looked to be about twenty-five, with large, blue eyes, defined, rosy cheeks, and a red mouth that formed a little 'o' in surprise, before turning into a smile of beautiful, white, teeth.
"Well, hello there." She said, pleasantly, coming toward Moira and extending her hand. "You must be Miss Bailey. How lovely to finally meet with you." She had the trace of a British accent, which made her all the more charming. "I'm Elizabeth Sutherton. It is a pleasure." Moira shook her hand, and smiled, her nervousness draining slowly.
"Yes, a pleasure. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me." The interview was already off to a good start. The two women sat down and began talking. As the meeting progressed, Moira found herself enjoying the company of Elizabeth Sutherton more and more. I could work for her. She thought, being quizzed on her personal history. She decided then and there, that this was her favorite potential boss yet.
"Well, everything seems to be in good order, why don't I let you know what our decision is in a few weeks?" She asked, closing the portfolio, after reading Moira's credentials.
"That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Miss Sutherton."
"Of course, dear. Of course." The older of the two women smiled before looking at the elegant gold clock that hung on the wall. "Oh my! It's practically supper time." She exclaimed, making Moira realize how hungry she was. "Where are you going? I'll call you a carriage."
"I have to go back down to lower Manhattan." A look of shock came over Elizabeth's lovely face.
"My heavens, child! You'll be half starved by the time you get there. Please, join me for supper." Moira was taken aback,
"Me?"
"Well of course you! I quite enjoy your company."
"But," She looked down at her clothes. "We're not even dressed properly."
"Why, your right! I suppose we'll just have to shock the world and go out," Elizabeth lowered her voice, "in our afternoon clothes." Moira laughed and agreed that it sounded like a good idea.
"So, Moira-you don't mind if I call you that, do you?" Elizabeth asked, over coffee later that evening.
"Of course not."
"What do you do?"
"What do I do?" Moira repeated, wondering how to answer such a question.
"Yes, during the day. You don't strike me as the type to enjoy days at polo matches and teas. You're not that kind of girl, are you?"
"No, I wouldn't say I was."
"I didn't think so. So, what do you do?"
"Well…I…work at…the lodging house, for newsboys in Manhattan." She expected some sort of negative reaction. Moira herself was not ashamed of the newsies, or the LH, but sometimes telling people was a bit difficult.
"The newsies?" Elizabeth exclaimed, amazed. "You work with newsies?"
"Yes, I do."
"Goodness, that must be awfully fascinating! They seem like such pleasant sorts. Always having fun…heavens, they make me smile just thinking about them." Moira returned the smile,
"Yes, they really are great people. My best friends, actually."
"That's just lovely. Tell me about them."
"All of them?"
"Not all of them. Some of them."
"Well, there's David. He really is my best friend. He has been, since I started working there last summer. We have quite a bit in common, books, music, manners, the whole bit. He's great."
"David…who else?"
"There's Racetrack. He's quite interesting, once you get past the gambling addiction and love of cigars. Always ready to place a bet on something, always." Elizabeth smiled, and urged Moira on. "And if I tell you about Kid Blink, I'd have to tell you about Mush as well, because they're each other's shadows. I never see one without the other, it's nice though, since I adore both of them." She went on, telling her new companion about Specs, Skittery, and a few of the others before Jack's name came up.
"Now, this Jack fellow, tell me about him." Moira smiled, as Jack's face appeared in her mind.
"Jack, Jack. He's quite an amazing person, once you get to know him. Always laughing, cracking jokes, constantly trying to make me…live life. Do you understand what I mean? Everything he says to me, everything he does, and it's all because he says he wants me to enjoy my life more."
"And do you, enjoy your life?"
"It depends on where I am."
"Well, do you enjoy your life when you're with him?"
"Oh, yes." Moira said softly, unintentionally thinking about all the times Jack had made her appreciate her life. Starting with that first hug after Kloppman had died. All the talks on the roof, the museum, Christmas, New Years…he had made her life better, without her even realizing it.
"Moira…Moira?" Elizabeth asked, smiling slightly. She waved a hand in front her face. Moira's eyes refocused and turned to Elizabeth.
"Yes?"
"Oh, I see."
"You see what?"
"I just…see."
"I'm not sure that I understand."
"You're in love with this Jack fellow." Moira actually laughed. Her? Jack? Preposterous!
"No, no, no. He's just a very dear friend of mine."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Yes, it is."
"Take it from someone with a long line of love affairs," Elizabeth began, downing the rest of her coffee. "You don't get that look over a dear friend." They both laughed at that, before Moira overheard a waiter telling another table what time it was. Then Elizabeth confessed that she had an 'engagement' later on in the evening. So, after saying goodbye, each woman got into their own carriages and went their separate ways.
The carriage dropped her off at the LH. As she paid the driver, he gave her a wink,
"Where's you're escort tanight, love?" He asked. It was a different driver than had taken her to Sutherton, but Moira was pretty sure that all drivers were the same. Still, she smiled and pointed to the house,
"All fifty of them are in there." She thanked him and got down, looking up at the sky as he drove away. In the late March air, it was still rather chilly, but the sky held no signs of clouds as the pinks and oranges faded into the deep, blue of twilight. She took a deep breath and was about to turn around, when she noticed a pair of legs, dangling off the side of the building, and a stream of smoke coming from the body attached. Jack. Figuring she could just tell him how well the interview went, and then head across the street back home, Moira entered the lodging house and quickly made her way up to the roof, yelling greetings to the sick children inside.
"Hey, Jacky-boy." She greeted, approaching him from behind. He didn't say anything, but she heard a sniff, and he took a ragged breath. "Jack? What's the matter? Have you been crying?" She asked, sitting down next to him, he sniffed again and wiped at his eyes.
"No, I ain't been cryin'." He lied. Moira let it go, figuring he didn't want to be patronized.
"What happened?" She scooted closer to him, and put a hand on his arm.
"Sarah."
"What about Sarah?"
"She gots herself a job."
"Well, that's great. Isn't it?"
"No it ain't great. Da jobs in Illinois." He pronounced the 's' on Illinois, but Moira decided now was not the time to correct him.
"Well, then…I'll miss you."
"Miss me? Wad are ya talkin' about, Moira? I ain't goin' nowhere." He told her, confused. Unfortunately, she was only getting more confused, and neither was understanding the other.
"So, you're both staying here?"
"No."
"You're both…going to Illinois?" She guessed.
"No."
"Well then, Jack, I'm just a little confused. You're going to get married, how is this going to work?"
"It's not. We ain't gettin' married." At this, Moira's jaw dropped. They weren't getting married? But they had to! They were perfect for each other! He unclenched his fist and set the silver band on the concrete between them. "She says dat dis guy she's gonna woik for, really rich guy, is only gonna let her be a nanny to his kids if she ain't married. Says he ain't got da room for her ta be married."
"I'm sorry." She whispered, not sure if that was the right thing to say.
"Yeah, me too." They sat quietly for a while, neither really sure what to say.
"Why don't we go for a walk, or head down to Tibby's? My treat." She said, after a little while, but he shook his head.
"I just…wanna be up here for a liddle bit."
"Oh, okay. Do you want me to leave?" He shook his head again; a few pieces of blonde fell into his eyes. He reached over and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.
"I'm glad you're here." Moira rested her head on his shoulder,
"Me too."
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YES! FINALLY! I BROKE ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! Didn't think it was possible, didja? Well ha! It was. Mucho gracias to my best friend, the lovely and talented Marshy who FINALLY put me over the edge! There it was, the long awaited chapter fifteen. Enjoy! And, as if I have to add, review!!
