New York, July 1931.
"Eliza, you going out again?" The lady, who owned and ran the small boarding house where Eliza had been living the last few months asked her, as she entered the front room, dressed in her best. "Another interview?"
"I've actually got a meeting with some lawyers." Eliza said. "Although I wish it were a job interview.." She had been living hand to mouth the last few weeks as the money she'd saved from her last two jobs dwindled. Mistakenly she had thought she'd get a job soon enough, but despite a few interviews she had yet to get one. New York was filled with people who were looking for work. The depression was still influencing everything. And as Eliza lined up with hundreds of other people for every little job she knew that really she was lucky so far. Some of these people were living in shacks, and the shantytowns which had sprung up on the banks of the river. Some hadn't eaten in days. Some were dressed in their best, which wasn't even as good as Eliza's worst. But the thing that shocked Eliza was that despite the desperate conditions they never gave up hope.
"You do realise your rent is due on Thursday I hope?" The lady asked, watching Eliza carefully.
Eliza wilted. "I know." She whispered.
The lady sighed, and leant over her desk. "Look Eliza you've been an ideal guest here. You've always paid me on time, you've never given us any trouble, never even bought a man back here like some of the floozies do. I'll think of something to work it out if you can't afford it."
Eliza smiled weakly. "Thank you very much Mrs. Hays."
Mrs. Hays smiled again. "Eliza, did I ever tell you about my husband?"
"No." Eliza said, her eyes showing her confusion. Despite the fact that Eliza had been living there since she'd arrived in New York a few months back the landlady and her had only ever had a polite relationship.
"Charles." Mrs. Hays said with a smile. "Charles was president of the Grand Trunk Railway before he died. We had a lot of money, perhaps more than we knew what to do with..but that's beside the point. Charles died on board the Titanic Eliza."
Eliza stared at her in shock. Mrs. Hays was surveying her thoughtfully, watching her reaction. "The Titanic?" Eliza finally repeated. "How tragic."
"Tragic, yes." Mrs. Hays nodded. And then she decided to take pity on the young woman. "It only occurred to me the other day who you actually were- Caledon Hockley's ward. I remember seeing a photograph of you only four years ago when the newspaper were doing an exclusive with "Philadelphia society", and you were in the background of the photo. We all thought so much of him for taking you in you know. Although I have to admit people were shocked that he sent you to school and things like that, but even so they all praised his generosity."
Eliza opened her mouth to tell Mrs. Hays she shouldn't be so proud of Cal, but Mrs. Hays went on before she could.
"If I had of been less devastated by the whole thing perhaps I could have done something like Cal. But he was far braver than I. Far, far braver. After the whole incident I was a mess. I spent months crying, before I realised I had to live my life still. And so I came here and I opened this place. The point, Eliza, is that I don't need the money. I have more than enough. So if you can't pay me all the time, I'm not going to throw you out on your ear."
Eliza was stunned. "Mrs. Hays, I can assure you that I'll pay you for everything." She said.
Mrs. Hays waved it off. "When you can dear, when you can." She said. "I always thought Cal was a nice young man, it shocked me to hear of his passing."
"It shocked me." Eliza admitted.
"Yes, I was speaking to an old friend the other day, Rebecca, who's married into the Guggenheim family, and she was the one who told me it all. Actually come to think of it, maybe she's the reason I recognised you. She was speaking about the funeral, and she said something about Cal's ward not being there, and queried what she-you-would do now." Mrs. Hays said. "It's good to see that Cal helped you enough so you've got the skills to get a job to support yourself."
"Yes," Eliza said with a sigh. "If he hadn't taken me in then I don't know where I'd be now. He treated me very well, like I was actually someone-"
"-Someone?" Mrs. Hays cried indignantly. "You are someone dear, everyone is. Something I learnt from the Titanic tragedy-in my mind there is no first class, no third class, only people. If only everyone else had learnt the same lesson mind you." She chuckled. "You could imagine the shock of society when I decided to open this place. But I decided I didn't care-I wanted to help people somehow."
Eliza smiled again. "I admire you for that Mrs. Hays." She said. And she did. Having been seen, as only a third class orphan in the eyes of many of the first class hadn't really bothered Eliza-she knew it was true- but she was still impressed by this woman. She was well aware that many members of society, even those struggling under the depression, would never be able to see her as anything near an equal. Even now she could remember the taunts of the girls at her first school, and the cruelty of Cal's wives towards her. More than likely the other members of society would have behaved the same.
"Yes, Rose would have been proud." Mrs. Hays said with a sad smile.
Eliza wanted to ask about Rose-she'd heard the tone in Cal's voice when he spoke about her and known that he regretted how he'd treated her and that he'd lost her, and assumed she must be wonderful. But she'd never heard anyone else mention her. Whenever members of society were visiting Cal's place she'd kept out of the way simply because she knew it would seem strange to them if they saw her wandering around looking like she was at home, and would talk about Cal for it, even though of course, they were unlikely to speak of Rose now. But, Eliza realised as she glanced at the clock, there wasn't time for that now: she had to get to the lawyers.
"I don't wish to be rude Mrs. Hays, but if I don't leave now I'll be late for my meeting." Eliza said.
"Oh silly me keeping you when you've got places to go." Mrs. Hays laughed. "Best run along then dear-and Eliza, for a third class orphan as everyone called you, you've certainly grown up into a nice young woman!"
Eliza smiled at the kind words, and hurried out onto the street. As she made her way uptown she reflected on what she had just learnt. 'Fancy that!' She thought with a grin. 'Mrs. Hays lost someone on the Titanic too, and she knew who I was-about Cal. And she didn't think it all strange that Cal helped me like many people did. She thought it was nice, and charitable. I guess there are some members of society who are all right after all!'
*****
"Ah, Miss Eliza, how have you been since we saw each other last? Four months wasn't it? Time flies doesn't it?" The lawyer asked, as Eliza was shown into his office. She glanced around out the corner of her eye-it seemed some people had escaped the depression-at least thus far!
"Four months, yes." Eliza replied.
"There you go..." He mused. "And how are you? Are you working?"
Eliza shook her head. "I've applied for jobs of course, but it seems like I'm competing against the whole city!" She said. "It's terrible to see the country like this."
"Isn't it?" The lawyer said. "Of course you must think me hypocritical sitting here in this office, saying that."
"Oh no." Eliza assured him.
"We've all been hit-just some people worse than others." The lawyer said, with a sigh. "Some people much worse..."
Eliza didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.
"Well Eliza I've been communicating with Mrs. Hockley these past few months. At first she was adamant about you receiving nothing, about fighting the will, however she has come around. She realises that there is nothing that she can do about this all. And, as I told her, society think very highly of her late husband for taking you in, so they'd think even more of her if she helped you out after his death. The story she is intending to tell is simply that she knew you meant something to Caledon, and therefore she wants to make sure you're all right. She doesn't wish for anyone to know that Caledon left you money in his will, because then society will be sure to think it's strange for Caledon to leave money to an orphan who he simply took in...." He trailed off to look at Eliza.
"I can assure you that I will not speak a word of the truth to anyone." Eliza said. "If Melanie wants everyone to think she was being as charitable as Cal, then fine. They'll think that."
The lawyer smiled in relief. "Thank you for being so understanding." He said.
When Eliza left the office about half an hour later she was almost fifteen thousand dollars richer. The lawyer had shook his head at the sum, if it weren't for the depression he claimed the figure would be closer to a million, but Eliza knew that fifteen thousand was a lot more than many people had, and certainly more than anyone like her-a Swedish born, orphan who had come to America with nothing, not even her parents!-would have! As she walked back downtown towards the boarding house a smile lit up her face. Maybe things would be all right for her. The last few months had made her doubt that she could even be a governess, and survive on her own, but now she changed her mind. She'd be all right. And as usual she had Cal Hockley to thank. He really had done more than she could ever have expected of him, even in death.
"Eliza, you going out again?" The lady, who owned and ran the small boarding house where Eliza had been living the last few months asked her, as she entered the front room, dressed in her best. "Another interview?"
"I've actually got a meeting with some lawyers." Eliza said. "Although I wish it were a job interview.." She had been living hand to mouth the last few weeks as the money she'd saved from her last two jobs dwindled. Mistakenly she had thought she'd get a job soon enough, but despite a few interviews she had yet to get one. New York was filled with people who were looking for work. The depression was still influencing everything. And as Eliza lined up with hundreds of other people for every little job she knew that really she was lucky so far. Some of these people were living in shacks, and the shantytowns which had sprung up on the banks of the river. Some hadn't eaten in days. Some were dressed in their best, which wasn't even as good as Eliza's worst. But the thing that shocked Eliza was that despite the desperate conditions they never gave up hope.
"You do realise your rent is due on Thursday I hope?" The lady asked, watching Eliza carefully.
Eliza wilted. "I know." She whispered.
The lady sighed, and leant over her desk. "Look Eliza you've been an ideal guest here. You've always paid me on time, you've never given us any trouble, never even bought a man back here like some of the floozies do. I'll think of something to work it out if you can't afford it."
Eliza smiled weakly. "Thank you very much Mrs. Hays."
Mrs. Hays smiled again. "Eliza, did I ever tell you about my husband?"
"No." Eliza said, her eyes showing her confusion. Despite the fact that Eliza had been living there since she'd arrived in New York a few months back the landlady and her had only ever had a polite relationship.
"Charles." Mrs. Hays said with a smile. "Charles was president of the Grand Trunk Railway before he died. We had a lot of money, perhaps more than we knew what to do with..but that's beside the point. Charles died on board the Titanic Eliza."
Eliza stared at her in shock. Mrs. Hays was surveying her thoughtfully, watching her reaction. "The Titanic?" Eliza finally repeated. "How tragic."
"Tragic, yes." Mrs. Hays nodded. And then she decided to take pity on the young woman. "It only occurred to me the other day who you actually were- Caledon Hockley's ward. I remember seeing a photograph of you only four years ago when the newspaper were doing an exclusive with "Philadelphia society", and you were in the background of the photo. We all thought so much of him for taking you in you know. Although I have to admit people were shocked that he sent you to school and things like that, but even so they all praised his generosity."
Eliza opened her mouth to tell Mrs. Hays she shouldn't be so proud of Cal, but Mrs. Hays went on before she could.
"If I had of been less devastated by the whole thing perhaps I could have done something like Cal. But he was far braver than I. Far, far braver. After the whole incident I was a mess. I spent months crying, before I realised I had to live my life still. And so I came here and I opened this place. The point, Eliza, is that I don't need the money. I have more than enough. So if you can't pay me all the time, I'm not going to throw you out on your ear."
Eliza was stunned. "Mrs. Hays, I can assure you that I'll pay you for everything." She said.
Mrs. Hays waved it off. "When you can dear, when you can." She said. "I always thought Cal was a nice young man, it shocked me to hear of his passing."
"It shocked me." Eliza admitted.
"Yes, I was speaking to an old friend the other day, Rebecca, who's married into the Guggenheim family, and she was the one who told me it all. Actually come to think of it, maybe she's the reason I recognised you. She was speaking about the funeral, and she said something about Cal's ward not being there, and queried what she-you-would do now." Mrs. Hays said. "It's good to see that Cal helped you enough so you've got the skills to get a job to support yourself."
"Yes," Eliza said with a sigh. "If he hadn't taken me in then I don't know where I'd be now. He treated me very well, like I was actually someone-"
"-Someone?" Mrs. Hays cried indignantly. "You are someone dear, everyone is. Something I learnt from the Titanic tragedy-in my mind there is no first class, no third class, only people. If only everyone else had learnt the same lesson mind you." She chuckled. "You could imagine the shock of society when I decided to open this place. But I decided I didn't care-I wanted to help people somehow."
Eliza smiled again. "I admire you for that Mrs. Hays." She said. And she did. Having been seen, as only a third class orphan in the eyes of many of the first class hadn't really bothered Eliza-she knew it was true- but she was still impressed by this woman. She was well aware that many members of society, even those struggling under the depression, would never be able to see her as anything near an equal. Even now she could remember the taunts of the girls at her first school, and the cruelty of Cal's wives towards her. More than likely the other members of society would have behaved the same.
"Yes, Rose would have been proud." Mrs. Hays said with a sad smile.
Eliza wanted to ask about Rose-she'd heard the tone in Cal's voice when he spoke about her and known that he regretted how he'd treated her and that he'd lost her, and assumed she must be wonderful. But she'd never heard anyone else mention her. Whenever members of society were visiting Cal's place she'd kept out of the way simply because she knew it would seem strange to them if they saw her wandering around looking like she was at home, and would talk about Cal for it, even though of course, they were unlikely to speak of Rose now. But, Eliza realised as she glanced at the clock, there wasn't time for that now: she had to get to the lawyers.
"I don't wish to be rude Mrs. Hays, but if I don't leave now I'll be late for my meeting." Eliza said.
"Oh silly me keeping you when you've got places to go." Mrs. Hays laughed. "Best run along then dear-and Eliza, for a third class orphan as everyone called you, you've certainly grown up into a nice young woman!"
Eliza smiled at the kind words, and hurried out onto the street. As she made her way uptown she reflected on what she had just learnt. 'Fancy that!' She thought with a grin. 'Mrs. Hays lost someone on the Titanic too, and she knew who I was-about Cal. And she didn't think it all strange that Cal helped me like many people did. She thought it was nice, and charitable. I guess there are some members of society who are all right after all!'
*****
"Ah, Miss Eliza, how have you been since we saw each other last? Four months wasn't it? Time flies doesn't it?" The lawyer asked, as Eliza was shown into his office. She glanced around out the corner of her eye-it seemed some people had escaped the depression-at least thus far!
"Four months, yes." Eliza replied.
"There you go..." He mused. "And how are you? Are you working?"
Eliza shook her head. "I've applied for jobs of course, but it seems like I'm competing against the whole city!" She said. "It's terrible to see the country like this."
"Isn't it?" The lawyer said. "Of course you must think me hypocritical sitting here in this office, saying that."
"Oh no." Eliza assured him.
"We've all been hit-just some people worse than others." The lawyer said, with a sigh. "Some people much worse..."
Eliza didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.
"Well Eliza I've been communicating with Mrs. Hockley these past few months. At first she was adamant about you receiving nothing, about fighting the will, however she has come around. She realises that there is nothing that she can do about this all. And, as I told her, society think very highly of her late husband for taking you in, so they'd think even more of her if she helped you out after his death. The story she is intending to tell is simply that she knew you meant something to Caledon, and therefore she wants to make sure you're all right. She doesn't wish for anyone to know that Caledon left you money in his will, because then society will be sure to think it's strange for Caledon to leave money to an orphan who he simply took in...." He trailed off to look at Eliza.
"I can assure you that I will not speak a word of the truth to anyone." Eliza said. "If Melanie wants everyone to think she was being as charitable as Cal, then fine. They'll think that."
The lawyer smiled in relief. "Thank you for being so understanding." He said.
When Eliza left the office about half an hour later she was almost fifteen thousand dollars richer. The lawyer had shook his head at the sum, if it weren't for the depression he claimed the figure would be closer to a million, but Eliza knew that fifteen thousand was a lot more than many people had, and certainly more than anyone like her-a Swedish born, orphan who had come to America with nothing, not even her parents!-would have! As she walked back downtown towards the boarding house a smile lit up her face. Maybe things would be all right for her. The last few months had made her doubt that she could even be a governess, and survive on her own, but now she changed her mind. She'd be all right. And as usual she had Cal Hockley to thank. He really had done more than she could ever have expected of him, even in death.