Sequel to Loyalty - enjoy and please RnR!
All the usual disclaimers!
New York City
1868
"Ma'am? Excuse me, Ma'am?" The gentleman leaned across towards her sleeping face and tried to rouse, "Ma'am, wake up." There was no response and he wondered what he should do. The little girl sitting in her lap was very much awake and grinning broadly at him, but her mother seemed oblivious. "Ma'am, we've reached New York," he tried explaining, as if by some miracle that would do the trick. But she slept on, her breathing slow and regular, her head pressed against her right fist.
When she had got on the train at Denver with her daughter, he had thought he quite pretty, yet much too pale. Her red hair had been stark against her white cheeks and her blue eyes had shone out from her small face. She had smiled at him as she sat down in the compartment and accepted his offer of help with putting her cases up on the luggage rack. He had asked her a few polite questions, such as where she was going, but he had received the distinct impression that she was not in the mood for engaging him in a meaningful discussion. So, he had read his paper while she watched the scenery fly past the window, only glancing occasionally from the financial pages to observe the same sad expression on her face. He was curious about her, but he had also noticed the gold wedding band on her finger and had refrained from making any further move.
"Ma'am," he tried again, this time shaking her shoulder gently. Her eyes flew open and she seemed to jump back in her seat with fright. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly, "I didn't mean to alarm you, it's just that we're at New York."
"Oh…" she said, still coming round from her nap, "Oh…thank you," she got to her feet, hoisting her daughter further up into her arms, "I must have dozed off."
"You've been asleep for at least an hour," he told her, smiling.
"It's lucky Victoria didn't start fussing," she replied, reaching up to get one of her cases, "I was wondering, would you mind…?"
"Of course not," he reached up and lifted down her cases, "I'll put them on the platform for you, and find you a porter."
"You don't have to…" she protested feebly, for she was actually quite glad of his assistance.
"It's no trouble," he replied, smiling at her as he led the way down the corridor to the train door. Once on the platform, he clicked his fingers, and a porter appeared with a trolley, "Well, I hope you have pleasant stay in the city."
"I'm sure I will," she replied, "thank you."
"You're more than welcome, Miss…?"
"Brown," she replied, "Emma Jane Brown."
He touched his hat, "Miss Brown." Then he disappeared back onto the train leaving her standing with the porter.
"Where are you headed, Miss?" the porter asked her, loading the cases onto his trolley.
Emma Jane paused. She wasn't sure where she was going, or what she was going to do. It had seemed like the simplest thing in the world to get on the stage at Colorado Springs and then get on the train at Denver and leave everything behind, but she hadn't made any future plans. She hadn't told Thomas she was coming, so there was no-one to meet her, and she knew she couldn't just turn up at her parents' house. But she could also tell that Victoria was tired and starting to get grouchy, and they would both have to eat soon.
"Would you happen to know of any boarding houses?" she asked him.
"Boarding houses?" he thought for a moment, "I know of one near here. It's not very grand though."
"It doesn't matter," she assured him hurriedly, "the cheaper the better." She didn't have much money with her and she had taken none from her husband.
"All right then, follow me and I'll get you a carriage," he told her, leading the way through the thronging crowds of people greeting one another. Couples, young and old, fell into each other's embraces, parents greeted children, but there was neither for Emma Jane.
When they reached the entrance to the station, the porter whistled and motioned for one of the horse-drawn carriages to pull up. He loaded the cases into the carriage for her and then helped her up into it, "Ma Kimble's on 33rd Street," he told both her and the driver, "Sure she'll have rooms."
"Thank you," Emma Jane reached into her purse and gave him a tip before the carriage pulled away. As they made their way down the street, she looked around at her home city, a place she hadn't been for two years since her sister's funeral. The buildings looked greyer, the sidewalks more bland than they ever seemed to have before. She was also aware of a faint smog hanging over the city, once which made visibility poor in the distance. She had never noticed it before, and she coughed involuntarily.
The carriage ride was short and soon, they were turning into one of the poorer areas of the city. She could tell by the rundown appearance of the buildings and the poorly dressed children playing in the filthy streets. For all that Colorado Springs had been, it had certainly been better than what she was looking at now.
"Here we are, Miss," the driver said, getting down and helping her out of the carriage. "I'll bring your cases for you." He turned to lift them as she made her way over to the door.
Nervously, she knocked on it and was rewarded by the incessant barking of a dog, and a rough voice telling it to shut up. The door opened to reveal a fat woman dressed in an apron. She regarded Emma Jane suspiciously.
"Yes?"
"Mrs Kimble?" Emma Jane asked.
"That's right."
"I understand…I mean I heard that you…you might have rooms available…for rent?"
Mrs Kimble nodded, "Johnny send you?"
"Johnny?"
"He's a porter at the station. He sends me lots of poor souls needing a place to lay their heads. Come in." She stepped back into a poorly lit corridor and allowed Emma Jane to enter. The carriage driver put her cases down inside the door and she turned to give him a tip after which, he was gone. "Almost full at the moment," Mrs Kimble continued, leading the way, "Lucky ya came when ya did."
Emma Jane wasn't sure if it really was luck after all. The place had a distinct smell about it. An odour of dog mixed with cooking vegetables, and she wasn't sure the house was entirely clean.
"This is the kitchen," Mrs Kimble announced when they reached a small room with a wood burning stove and a long table, "Ya get three meals a day. Breakfast is at six, lunch at twelve, dinner at six. Ya don't come for those times, ya miss out." She grinned at Emma Jane, "Can't have folks wandering in for food whenever they feel like it."
"No," Emma Jane replied, "I suppose you can't."
"Let me show you your room," Mrs Kimble led the way to a flight of stairs, "Lucy left here last week so ya can have her old place." She huffed as she slowly climbed the stairs, "Here we are," she took a key from her pocket and slotted it into a door which swung open to reveal a small room. "Home sweet home."
There was nothing sweet about it. There was a bed in one corner, a small table and chair in the other, with a dresser against the small dirty window where a cracked bowl sat, presumably for washing.
"Ya'll be needing a bed for the little one," Mrs Kimble observed, "Reckon one of the other rooms has got a spare one. I'll get it shifted in here for ya."
"Thank you," Emma Jane replied weakly.
"Rent's a dollar a week. And we've got rules here. No bringing home any menfolk," she looked at her severely, "And try and keep your baby quiet. There's other folks here who like their sleep of a night."
"Of course," Emma Jane replied.
"Good," Mrs Kimble grinned, "I'll need two weeks rent in advance." She held out her large, fleshy hand.
Two whole dollars! Emma Jane fished around in her purse and presented her landlady with the money, despondently realising that she didn't have much left.
"Thank you," Mrs Kimble said, "I'll get Peter to bring your things up for ya. You'll like Peter," she confided, "Very quiet and well behaved." With that, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her like the clanging of a prison cell.
Emma Jane sat down on the sagging bed and, placing Victoria next to her, put her head in her hands. There was no other word for this place apart from hellhole, one she knew she had used often in a fit of temper to describe the saloon. Thinking about it now, it seemed like paradise in her memory.
She got to her feet and walked over to the window to see what kind of view of New York she would have. As it turned out, it wasn't much of a view at all, being the side of another building. Looking down, she could see the street where she had entered and realised that she was at least looking out onto the front of the boarding house.
A knock at the door jolted her back to reality and she hurried to open it, to find a boy, not any older than sixteen, virtually sagging under the weight of her cases.
"Oh, let me help you!" she exclaimed, taking one from him and setting it down. He came into the room and set the other one down, "You must be Peter."
"Yes Ma'am," he replied, "I'm Peter." Catching sight of Victoria, he moved over beside her and tickled her under the chin, "Lovely baby."
"Thank you," Emma Jane replied, surprised at his manners. Judging by his appearance, he didn't come from the wealthiest of families, "Do you live here?"
Peter nodded, "With my brother. We live down the hall there."
Emma Jane felt uncomfortable about sleeping so close to other males, but then reminded herself that she had spent the previous ten years living in what was effectively a brothel.
"I'd love to look after her sometime for ya," he said, turning to her expectantly, "I love babies."
"That's…very kind of you, Peter, thank you," Emma Jane replied, "I'll bear it in mind." She lifted her purse to tip him, but he held up his hands.
"No Ma'am, I don't want your money," he said.
"Oh…" she replied, "are you sure?"
"Yes Ma'am," he said, backing towards the door, "Ain't a charity case."
"I wasn't…" she protested.
"I know," he replied, "thanks anyway." With that, he was gone, leaving her standing looking at the open door.
Emma Jane turned back to where her daughter was watching her with large eyes, "Well Victoria. I suppose this is home."
SSSSS
That evening, having dressed in her best dress and fitted Victoria out equally as well, Emma Jane stood at the bottom of the steps of her parents house looking up at the imposing building. The last time she had left, having reached some kind of truce with her father and she couldn't help wonder about the reception she was going to get. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the steps slowly until she reached the door and knocked loudly.
Helen the maid opened the door and grinned at her, "Miss Emma Jane!" she gasped, her eyes falling on Victoria, "And this much be little Miss Victoria!" she said, stepping forward to greet them, "It's so wonderful to see you! Come in!"
"Nice to see you too, Helen," Emma Jane said, stepping inside, "Is now a good time?" The question should have read, 'is my mother here?' but Helen took the intended meaning.
"It's a perfect time!" she announced, "Mrs Brown is at the opera, but Mr Brown and Master Thomas are in the study. They asked not to be disturbed, but I think they'll want to see you!" She closed the door, "I'll get them." She dashed off in the direction of Mr Brown's study, leaving Emma Jane to look around the foyer and wander slowly into the drawing room.
The sound of running feet made her turn around and Thomas came hurtling at her, grinning like a maniac, his dark hair flopping over his eyes, "Emma Jane!" he cried gathering her and Victoria into his arms, "What a wonderful surprise!" He took Victoria from her, "And look how she's grown! Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"
"Well, it was…"
"Emma Jane, child!" Mr Brown appeared and hugged his daughter, "It's so nice to see you. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Father, I…"
"And this must be Victoria!" he gushed over his granddaughter, taking her from his son's arms, "She has your eyes, Emma Jane, if not your colouring."
"No, she definitely takes after Hank in that department," Thomas laughed, "How is he anyway? How's everyone doing in Colorado Springs?"
"Hank's fine, everyone's fine," she replied, "I just…"
"You should have told us you were coming!" Mr Brown said, "We would have prepared for you. You missed the most sumptuous meal this evening. Cook really did outdo herself. No matter," he said, "she can do it all again tomorrow night."
"What about Mother?" Emma Jane said quickly.
The frivolity in the room died and father and son exchanged glances, "I'll deal with your mother, don't worry," the former said, "So, sit down! Tell us all your news! Where are you staying?"
"In a boarding house on 33rd street. Mrs Kimble's the landlady, she's very nice," Emma Jane said quickly.
"33rd Street?" Thomas said, incredulously, "But that's the…well, the poor area of town. Whatever possessed you to stay there?"
"It's what I can afford, Thomas," Emma Jane said carefully.
"Don't be silly!" Mr Brown laughed, "You could have afforded one of the hotels, surely? Even one of the smaller ones. You could stay here, of course…"
"No," Emma Jane said quickly, "I mean, the boarding house is fine."
"But when you come to visit you really sure stay somewhere fitting," Thomas said, "Why don't you stay here? We can work on Mother."
Emma Jane shook her head, "I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because…because I'm not here for a visit," she said, willing herself to keep her voice steady, "I'm…here to stay."
"What?" Mr Brown asked, "I don't understand."
Emma Jane looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears, "Please don't judge me, Father, and please don't say that you could have told me so at the time." She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, "I've left Hank."
Mr Brown got to his feet quickly. Thomas stared at her, "You've…left him?"
She nodded, "It's complicated, and I don't really want to go into the details now but, yes, I've left him. I didn't know where else to go, so I thought I would come back to New York with Victoria."
"Did he hurt you?" Mr Brown asked tersely.
"Of course not!" she retaliated sharply, although deep down the hurt was there, "I don't want you to think that, Father, please." She stood up and faced him, "It wasn't Hank's fault. It was mine."
"Yours?" Thomas asked, "I don't understand, Emma. When I came to visit you last year you seemed so happy!"
"We were," she replied softly, "but…things happen."
"What things?" Thomas demanded.
"Thomas, please!" Emma Jane rounded on him, "I came to see the two of you, not to face an inquisition about my life!"
"I'm sorry," Thomas said, glancing at his father, "We're sorry, aren't we?"
Mr Brown nodded, "But I'm not happy about you living in some…boarding house. What are you doing for money? I assume Hank gave you something before you left."
"No, I'm going to look after myself," she replied.
"How?"
She shrugged, "I'll…get a job."
"Emma Jane…" her father sighed.
"Father, I didn't come here to throw myself and my child on your mercy and beg you to take me back and look after me. That's not why I'm here," she said angrily, "I've made my choices in life and now I have to stick by them." She sighed, "Although I'm sure Mother would take great pleasure in learning of my misfortune, as would half of the city!"
"She won't find out," Mr Brown said, "We won't tell her that you're back."
"You would lie to her?" Emma Jane was incredulous.
He winked at her, "It won't be the first time." Then he grew serious again, "Are you sure about this, Emma Jane?"
She nodded, "I'm positive Father. I need to make my own life, for Victoria's sake."
"At least take some money to begin with," he reached into his pocket and brought out some bank notes, "Just to get you started," he said over her protestations, "And then I promise never to give you anything ever again."
Emma Jane took the money gratefully. He was right, in that she would need all the help she could get.
SSSS
A few hours later, after having a nice chat with her family and leaving the house before her mother returned from the opera in a carriage paid for by her father, Emma Jane arrived home once more at Mrs Kimble's. She opened the door to the boarding house and, carrying Victoria in her arms, made her way along the corridor towards the stairs to her room. Before she reached them however, raucous laughter spilled out from the kitchen and the door flew open to reveal Mrs Kimble and several others sat grouped around the table.
"Emma Jane Brown!" she called to her, upon seeing her newest charge, "Come in, come in!"
Emma Jane wanted to refuse, but she felt it would be impolite, so she put her best smile on and ventured inside. The kitchen was littered with empty bottles and it was obvious that most of the occupants were inebriated. Having lived in the saloon, and with Hank, this type of behaviour no longer appalled her.
"Good evening," she greeted everyone.
"This is Emma Jane," Mrs Kimble waved her arm, "She's our newest resident." She rhymed off the names of the people in the room, names Emma Jane knew she would never remember. "This is Kevin," Mrs Kimble said, gesturing to a tall, fair haired boy in the corner, "He's Peter's brother."
"Oh, nice to meet you," Emma Jane said, "Your brother is very nice, He helped me with my cases earlier."
"Yes, he is," Kevin replied quietly.
"Where have ya been anyway?" Mrs Kimble asked, "Anywhere nice?"
"No, just visiting family." Emma Jane replied. She was thankfully cut off from saying anymore by the sound of the door opening and closing and the sound of laughter spilling down the hallway.
"Carolyn!" Mrs Kimble screeched, "Get yourself in here young lady!" she laughed uproariously, "Where have ya been til this time of night?"
"You know me, Ma!" the voice cackled, "I never tell!" A young, dark-haired woman stumbled into the kitchen, laughing and dragging a man behind her, "It's the usual gathering I see…" her eyes rested on Emma Jane, "Well, well, well. Do my eyes deceive me?"
Emma Jane looked up and immediately, her blood ran cold, "Carolyn?"
"I don't believe it!" Carolyn crowed, "The wonderful Mrs Lawson is here! With a baby!" she looked at Victoria, "With that hair and those eyes I can only assume that Mrs Lawson got herself in trouble by that hunk of a husband of hers." She laughed, "And now she's living here?" she looked questioningly at Emma Jane, "My how the mighty have fallen."
Everyone looked at Emma Jane and she suddenly felt an urge to run away, "Excuse me," she pushed past the other people and past Carolyn and ran up the stairs to her room, Carolyn's laughter and cruel words following her every step. When she reached her room, she slammed the door shut behind her and locked in. Then, she put Victoria down into the cot which someone had helpfully provided before sitting down on the bed and crying. She lay down on her side and hugged the thin bedclothes to her, tears streaming down her face, her body racked with sobs.
"Hank…" she sobbed to herself, "Hank…"
