Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1927
C lara
Our conversation continues the next morning as we walk to the hotel, our strides hurried by our urgent chatter. I barely feel the chill in the air as we go over our plans leading up to New Year’s Eve.
I lift my wrist to check the time, only to be reminded that Mama’s watch is currently being held hostage by Mr. Barnes. I remember Mama’s words clearly when I think of my distaste for the man. If you let them, people will show you exactly who they are. How right she was, I think to myself as we pass The Hotel Vancouver.
A thought pops into my mind. Nothing in my life will change unless I start doing things differently . Something deep within me warns me not to dismiss the notion. For the most part, I am content. I enjoy sharing a home and life with Papa and Louisa, but if I am to be happy, truly happy to live my life on my terms, then I had better start figuring out what those terms are.
I’ve spent my entire existence following rules set out by my parents, society, and more recently, the hotel. I realize now that I can’t let people like Mr. Barnes push me around as though I have no stake in the outcome of my life’s experiences. No one should be allowed to determine what is and isn’t acceptable to me. Though I am deeply appreciative of the role models I have in Ms. Thompson and Mr. Olson, even the hotel’s rules need to be questioned in certain circumstances.
“Lou, how long do you think this will take if everything falls into place on New Year’s Eve?”
My sister knows the reason for my question without needing me to say more. The delighted smile on her face tells me so.
“There’ll be plenty of time for you to enjoy the New Year’s Eve ball. I am happy for you, Clara. When will you tell him?”
I tug on the hotel’s back door and grin. “Right now.”
We are laughing as we tumble into the kitchen hall.
“What has gotten into you two?” Cookie appears in her kitchen doorway, holding a plate with a single giant cinnamon bun.
“Nothing.” We say in unison before collapsing into a fit of giggles.
“Sisters,” Cookie teases as she leans forward, swivelling her head to scan the corridor.
“Looking for someone?” Louisa recovers, lifting a questioning eyebrow while peeling the scarf from her neck.
“William, I mean Mr. Thompson, should be down any minute for his morning treat. I made him an extra-large one in hopes that he will do me a favour this afternoon.” Cookie puts a finger to her lips, signalling for us to keep her secret.
I recognize the opportunity and, feeling bold, step past my fear and grasp it. “I can take it up to him.”
Cookie looks me up and down, assessing my current state. “Did you find some gumption in your breakfast this morning, Miss Wilson?”
I press my lips together, knowing this is likely only the beginning of the teasing from my friend.
“All I can say is it’s about ruddy time, if you ask me.” Cookie passes me the plate. “Don’t you go breaking his heart. He is a good one, and Lord knows they are few and far between.”
I steal a glance at Louisa. Beaming, she takes my coat and bag from me and says she will retrieve my uniform with her own, affording me a few extra minutes. I take the offered plate from Cookie and make my way to the back-of-house corridor, unable to tuck my smile out of sight.
On the third floor, I stride with a confidence that comes from knowing exactly what I want all the way to room 305 and knock three times on the door.
William’s face lights up when he sees me. “Clara, good morning.”
“Good morning. This”—I raise the enormous cinnamon bun to eye level—“is from Cookie.”
He chuckles, taking the plate from me. “She must have a chore for me to do. I’ve noticed the pastries are bigger when she has a favour to ask of me.”
Feeling amusement at the secret shared with William, I wink knowingly and say, “I promise not to let her know you are on to her.”
He opens the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would, actually.” I step into his room and am pleased to see how tidy it is. Though I know the maid has not yet been in, his bed is made, the curtains are drawn open, and the papers sitting on the small writing desk are stacked neatly.
William watches me as I scan the room. “I must apologize,” I say, “for keeping you waiting about New Year’s Eve. It wasn’t my intention. Things sort of got out of hand with that problem I was having and?—”
He steps toward me, closing the gap between us. His hand is on mine while his eyes search my face. “Is everything all right? It’s that Mr. Barnes, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?” I feel the warmth of his hand seep into mine, and in the blink of an eye, I can no longer tell where his hand ends and mine begins.
“Do you want to talk about it? I mean, I realize you probably have to talk with my sister first, but I am here to listen whenever you are ready.”
“Thank you. You are kind to offer.” I hesitate before deciding to give him the short version. “I am working on a way to ensure the man is put in his place, but currently it doesn’t involve speaking with your sister or Mr. Olson.”
William’s smile reaches all the way to his eyes, and I know he is pleased and also a tad curious. “I won’t say a word. From the little I’ve seen, the man certainly needs to be shown back to his corner. I am pleased to know you will be the one to put him there.”
“I’ll have Louisa’s help, but yes, I’ve come to understand it is important to teach others how to treat us.”
His head bobs in agreement.
“That’s why I’ve come to see you this morning. I would be delighted to attend the New Year’s Eve ball with you, if the offer still stands.”
“Of course it does. There is no one else I would consider asking. I am very happy to hear that you will join me.” I didn’t believe his smile could grow wider, and yet it does, only making him that much more handsome. “What time shall I pick you up?”
“The thing is, our little plan could unfold anytime between now and New Year’s Eve.” I cringe a little at having accepted before giving him all the information. “I am not sure what time I will be available, but I promise you, I will attend the ball.”
William squeezes my hand in his, sending a warm thrill through my body. “We will figure it out. I’ll take any minute you can spare me, Clara.”
“I’ll be sure to save as many minutes as I can for you. I should be getting on. Enjoy your cinnamon bun.” We walk to the door hand in hand, only letting go at the last possible moment.