Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 27, 1927
C lara
Unpinning my hair from its headache-inducing bun, I run my fingers through it to try to release some tension. I tug my uniform over my head and step into my day dress, swapping my shiny black oxfords for winter boots with a glance at the clock on the wall. Ten past five. Louisa should be here by now.
I tuck my shoes into the space at the bottom of the locker and am reaching for my winter coat when I remember Mama’s watch. Dropping the jacket to the bench, I grab my uniform and untangle it from the apron. Rifling through the pockets, I come up empty.
“Oh.” Dread fills me as I realize the small thud I heard while reaching for the envelope in Mr. Barnes’ suite must have been Mama’s watch falling to the plush carpet. I know I scanned the floor and came up empty, so the watch must have fallen out of sight.
“Clara, is everything all right?” Rebecca is staring at me.
“Oh, I was just wondering where Louisa might have gotten to.”
“I’m sure she’ll be along shortly. You know Louisa. She’s not usually one to dawdle when it comes to quitting time.” Rebecca’s amused expression tells me she is teasing, but I am aware of the truth that lies beneath her words.
I coerce a chuckle. “I am sure you are right.”
“Do you want me to wait with you?” Rebecca is gathering her things and closing her locker.
“Don’t be silly. You’ve got to get home yourself. I am sure your mother is holding dinner for you.”
My friend answers with a bob of her head. “She mentioned something about turkey pot pie. To be honest, I think I enjoy the leftovers from Christmas dinner more than the original feast.” Rebecca’s nose crinkles in childlike appreciation of what awaits her at home.
“You’d better head home, then.” I place a hand on her back and push her gently toward the locker-room door. “Off you go, and have a pleasant evening.”
“See you tomorrow, Clara.” Rebecca waves at me as she slips into the corridor hallway.
I pretend to pack my things and bide my time as I wait for the last gaggle of maids to vacate the locker room. My options are limited. Mama’s watch is too precious for me to simply walk away from, regardless of Mr. Barnes’ antics. I glance at the clock again. Twenty minutes past five.
Grabbing my jacket in one hand and my bag in the other, I head toward the door. Louisa must have finished early and is probably waiting for me by Cookie’s pastry kitchen.
I reach the kitchen hall to find it empty. Leaving my coat and bag on the small table in the hall, I decide to return to the eighth floor and retrieve Mama’s watch, with or without Louisa. First, I’ll check my cleaning cart. Hopefully, the watch ended up there, tucked into the clean pile of towels. I climb the stairs, knowing that if I don’t locate the watch in the supply cupboard, I will have no choice but to venture to Mr. Barnes’ suite.
After a fruitless search of my cart, I summon my courage and knock on suite 815. I hear glass clinking beyond the door and then the doorknob being handled. I step back in anticipation and lock my hands behind my back.
The door flies open with a rush of air. Mr. Barnes doesn’t so much stand as he does lean against the hinged door, swaying slightly. “Well, if it isn’t the delightful Miss Wilson.”
“Good evening, Mr. Barnes. Sorry to disturb you. It seems I may have left my watch in your suite. If I could?—”
Mr. Barnes raises a glass to his lip, sloshing its contents. “You thought you could what? Come into my suite anytime you like to retrieve a carelessly left personal item?”
I smell the liquor as he roars his displeasure.
“And after you declined my perfectly cordial invitation to the New Year’s Eve party?” He shakes his head with slow, purposeful movements. “I don’t think so, Miss Wilson.”
“Sir, like I mentioned before, it wouldn’t be right for me to accept an invitation from a hotel guest. The hotel has rules that we maids must follow.” I try to convey with a slight shrug of my shoulders that the matter is out of my hands. “If you would be so kind as to retrieve my watch for me, I can be out of your way in a jiffy so you can enjoy the rest of your evening. I believe you will find my watch on the floor somewhere near the writing desk.”
“Do you think I am daft, Miss Wilson? I have no intention of returning your watch to you. Finders keepers and all that.” He waves his hand in the air, more of his beverage splattering onto the carpet.
My heart sinks at the sight of the stained carpet. I taste bile at the back of my tongue, a sure sign of warning. “But sir, what use do you have for a woman’s watch?”
“I am not an unkind man. You may not agree, but truly, I am generous and fun-loving and am the sort of man many young women would fight over. But not you, Miss Wilson, and because of your closed-up, timid little ways, it seems your sister thinks she can cast me aside as well. I promised her big things, and she still refused to play the game.”
“Game? What game?” My brow furrows as I try to make sense of his words. “What have you done to my sister? Is she in there? Louisa!” I call her name, but this only makes the man laugh.
Mr. Barnes places one foot in the hall, the door hitting his back clumsily as it releases. “You really are quite innocent, aren’t you? Ah, but I suppose that is what intrigued me about you in the first place. The chaste ones are the most fun to play with.”
A shiver runs up my spine and my feet feel as though they’ve been covered in concrete. My focus shifts from worry over my watch to panic for my and Louisa’s immediate safety. I take another step backwards and glance down the hall, willing someone else to appear.
“There is nothing here for you, Miss Wilson. You are no longer welcome. So you can be on your way and leave me to my drink.” Mr. Barnes’ glazed-over eyes survey me with venom.
I am praying that his words confirm Louisa’s absence within his suite. Aside from barging past the man and pillaging his suite for my watch, there is little I can do in this moment. His inebriated state, though clearly disarming his reflexes, makes him all the more dangerous, with the malice running through his veins on full display.
I turn on my heel, cheeks flaming and moisture gathering in my eyes from frustration. I need to find Louisa.
Running to the stairwell, I pass two of the biggest gossips on the eighth floor. Though I note that the maids instantly bend their heads together in discussion, after seeing me running from a guest’s suite at this hour, I care little about the rumour mill and more about my sister’s well-being.
I cannot deny my breaking heart at the thought of losing Mama’s watch to such a hateful man, but Louisa is my first priority. I fling open the stairwell door and descend eight floors before racing down the back-of-house corridor toward the kitchen hall.
I stop short at the threshold, out of breath but filled with relief at the sight of my sister and Cookie chatting quietly. Louisa is nibbling what looks to be a gingerbread cookie while Cookie watches, a pleased expression lining her lips.
“Thank heavens, Lou. You are all right?” I bend at the waist, trying to catch my breath.
“I am.” Louisa’s usual ready-to-humour-me reply is missing, and I read her intentions clearly. She does not wish to discuss anything of substance here.
Cookie is watching me with a questioning tilt of her head. Trying to make light of my comment, I grab my coat and bag off the table. Forcing my hands into gloves, I continue the charade as I edge closer to the back door. “I was worried my lateness had upset you. I know how eager you are to get home this evening.”
The lobby door swings in toward the kitchen hall, and George appears, waving a small piece of paper in his hand. “Oh, Clara. Glad I caught you. I have a message here for Mr. Barnes. It’s from his wife, so I thought you might want to deliver it yourself.”
“His wife?” I turn in Louisa’s direction and watch in amusement as her left eyebrow raises high toward her forehead.
George glances between me and Louisa, realizing we are dressed for home. “But I can see you are off shift now. I can drop it by his suite if you don’t think he’ll mind.”
I recover from my surprise at this revelation. “Thank you, George. If you could, I would be grateful.” I turn toward the back door, but then I think better of sending George to deal with a very displeased and inebriated Mr. Barnes. “Actually, George.” I catch him before he disappears from sight. “Just slide the message under his door. Mr. Barnes mentioned something about having an early night, and I wouldn’t want to intrude on his quiet evening.”
George nods in understanding before heading down the corridor to the stairwell.
“Shall we?” I ask Louisa, tugging my winter hat down tighter.
Cookie pipes up from the doorway of the pastry kitchen. “I don’t know what you two are up to, but something is going on.”
I am about to open my mouth when Louisa gives her a wink. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m here if you need a voice of reason.” Cookie chortles to herself as she disappears into her kitchen.
The door has barely closed behind us when I wrap my sister in a fierce embrace. “I was so worried.”
“It’s all my fault, Clara. I didn’t take you at your word.” Louisa’s eyes brim with tears. “I never should have doubted you.”
We take slow, steady steps toward home, knowing our conversation will be far less private once we arrive there.
“How did you know?” Lou sneaks a sideways glance in my direction. “That I was in trouble.”
“He is a dangerous man, Lou. I knew it from the start. I went to his suite to retrieve my watch, and he confirmed you had been there.” I drop my chin to my chest, defeated by our predicament. “I accidentally left Mama’s watch in his suite. I suppose the clasp broke while I was cleaning his room. He refused to give it back to me. Told me it was my fault that you wouldn’t play some game. I’m afraid to ask what he meant by that, but I am certain it is nothing good.”
“He read me wrong, just like I did him.” Louisa kicks a mound of snow with the toe of her granny boot. “He told me he would introduce me to those who make the decisions in Hollywood. In return, I assume he expected me to make myself comfortable in his bed.”
I gasp, clutching Louisa’s arm in the process. “Did he hurt you?” The question reminds me of the one William asked me. He knew that nefarious intentions were lurking in the shadows.
Louisa shakes her head. “He didn’t get that far. I suspect he might have forced the issue on New Year’s Eve. He invited me to the ball at The Hotel Vancouver, the same one William invited you to. The irony is not lost on me. I can tell you that much.”
I stop in my tracks, tugging Lou back by the arm. “You’ve got to be kidding? He tried to invite me to the same ball. I declined, which apparently did not make him happy. But seriously, does the man think we wouldn’t talk to one another?”
Louisa’s bottom lip finds its way between her teeth. “I think it’s my fault. When I went to clear the air with him about the incident with you, he told me nothing happened. He said he was trying to brush a spider off your collar.”
“What? He was lying.”
My sister nods, then rolls her eyes. “I believed him. Since you weren’t willing to tell me the whole story, I assumed the situation was a misunderstanding. I’m sorry. I could have been much more helpful if I had listened to you in the first place.”
I pull Louisa into a tight embrace. “If I had told you everything that was going on, you wouldn’t have had to guess at it. I was just so embarrassed by the whole situation.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. This wasn’t your fault, Clara. But now that we know, what are we going to do about it? I mean, we can’t simply let him continue preying on maids.” A glove-covered hand flies to Louisa’s open mouth. “Oh my, I should have realized it at the time. Gwen.”
“What about Gwen?”
“She is about to make the same mistake I did. We can’t let her, Clara. She may think she is willing to do anything to become a star, but there is an innocent, inexperienced young woman inside of her. We can’t let someone like Harold Barnes hurt her.”
“I will do whatever I can to help, Lou, but promise me we’ll get Mama’s watch back in the process.”
“Deal.” Louisa removes her glove and sticks her hand in my direction, pinky raised.
I do the same, and our bond as sisters feels impenetrable against the likes of Harold Barnes.