LoveMakers Page 5

  One entire wall of the parlor was constructed of built-in bookshelves; the multicolored spines of the books belonging to Ludmila gave off a vibrant, pulsating spectrum of color. More importantly, the books covered a wide range of subjects, from the complete works of Charles Dickens to the controversial new science of psychiatry. Elizabeth-Anne knew it could only help to continue her humble education, and was fascinated by the books she now had a chance to read.

  Overall, it was a simple room, easy to keep neat and clean. Thanks to the large, eat-in kitchen where she preferred the family to gather, the parlor would be relatively little used, and highly respectable indeed.

  'I don't know how you did it, Momma,' Regina said, 'but it already looks like home.'

  It was late afternoon on the last Saturday in September, one of those rare late summer days when all of New York seemed to be taking advantage of the weather. Central Park was filled with families picnicking, children playing ball, and dour nannies pushing baby strollers and carriages along the paved paths, all overseen by an occasional, blue- uniformed patrolman. Overhead, kites flew in the perfect puffball sky.

  If it weren't for the tall, sunbathed towers lining the park, Elizabeth-Anne thought, it would be easy to imagine that I'm not in the city at all, but in some pastoral countryside, like the ones in the romantic paintings we saw last weekend in the museum.

  She looked around and watched the children shrieking happily and chasing each other up a grassy slope. She hesitated. They were all having such a good time; she hated to have to break it up. But after a moment, she called for them to come over and gather around her. Reluctantly, they approached the bench where she sat, little Zaccheus clamoring up beside her.

  'But it's still early, Mamma,' Charlotte-Anne protested. 'Do we have to go home already?'

  'No, not yet,' Elizabeth-Anne assured her, 'but I've got something important to discuss with you. Afterward,' she promised, 'you can go right on playing.'

  The girls nodded and sat down beside her.

  'I've waited a few days to tell you this,' Elizabeth-Anne said, studying each of their faces. 'I've found a job. I'm starting work on Monday.'

  Charlotte-Anne stared at her open-mouthed. When she found her voice, she spoke in a tone of incredulity. 'A job? But I thought we had enough money coming in from the tourist court. And besides, you told us we've got a lot saved up in the bank.'

  'And so we do. But we've all got dreams to follow. All of you, and me included. Now don't look at me like that. I'm not that old, you know.'

  'Dreams?' Regina asked. 'What kind of dreams?'

  'Oh, you'll find out soon enough.'

  'Where are you going to work?' Rebecca asked.

  Elizabeth-Anne turned and pointed to the elegant white building which seemed to rise up from the midst of the trees behind them like some fairy tale castle. 'At the Plaza Hotel.'

  'Doing what?' asked Regina.

  Elizabeth-Anne sat back and folded her hands in her lap. 'I'm going to be a chambermaid.'

  'A chambermaid!' Charlotte-Anne exclaimed in horror. 'Mamma, that's dirty work. Back in Quebeck we have Mexicans doing that.'

  'This isn't Quebeck, darling, in case you haven't noticed.'

  Charlotte-Anne hung her head, obviously abashed.

  'Besides,' Elizabeth-Anne said, 'I don't intend to stay a chambermaid for long. It's only for a short while.'

  'But . . . why do you want to be one at all?' Rebecca asked.

  'Because I want to see how a big hotel operates, that's why.'

  'Well, couldn't we just give up our apartment and stay in one for a while?' she added.

  'No, that wouldn't be the same thing.' Elizabeth-Anne sat forward and her eyes gleamed with anticipation. 'You see, darling, I want to see it from the inside, from the employees' perspective. I want to discover just how a big hotel works, and what's involved in running one.'

  The children all stared at her, obviously surprised.

  'The thing which could conceivably be inconvenient,' Elizabeth-Anne continued, 'is that I've got to start by taking the night shift. It lasts from ten at night until six in the morning. But I don't really think it'll throw our lives into chaos. While you're all at school, I'll be sleeping. While you're sleeping, I'll be working. When I get home I'll make you breakfast and see you off. And I'll be up when you get back.'

  'But . . . if you want to work in a hotel so badly,' Charlotte-Anne persisted, 'isn't there any other kind of work you can do?'

  'You mean other than being a chambermaid?'

  Charlotte-Anne nodded.

  'I could wash pots and pans in the kitchen or become a ladies' washroom attendant, if you prefer.' Elizabeth-Anne looked at her curiously. 'Would you like that better?'

  Charlotte-Anne narrowed her eyes. 'That's not very funny.'

  'I didn't intend it to be. But I do intend on working in various hotels, in various capacities. For now, I'll start at the bottom.'

  Charlotte-Anne turned away. 'Well, I just hope you won't advertise what you're going to do,' she mumbled.

  So that was it, Elizabeth-Anne thought. She tightened her lips and stifled a sigh, trying hard not to show her annoyance. Charlotte-Anne obviously didn't want anyone to know that her mother was a maid. In all likelihood, she'd probably been telling all her school friends that her family was independently wealthy.

  'There's nothing wrong with being a maid,' Elizabeth-Anne pointed out. 'An honest day's work never hurt anyone. There's no shame in it.'

  'Mamma?' Rebecca said timidly.

  'Yes, dear?'

  'If you like, I'll help out. I'll even go to work with you. I think I'd like that much better than going to school.'

  Elizabeth-Anne gave her youngest daughter a quick hug. 'I think,' she said with a laugh, 'that for the time being it's best you go to school.'

  Charlotte-Anne stared at them expressionlessly. Then she got up without speaking and walked over to the grassy slope, where she sat down in the shadows. When her sisters and Zaccheus resumed playing, she refused to join in their games.

  Her first day of work, and she almost blew it. Circumstances had conspired and almost succeeded in making her late.

  Now that would have been one hell of a way to start off on the wrong foot she thought. And to think that she had been so careful, budgeting every minute of her time. She had believed everything was under control, but there were a million things that popped up right as she was walking out the door. Zaccheus had been fast asleep, but he'd awakened when Regina and Charlotte-Anne had gotten into a violent argument. There had been that to referee, and then Zaccheus refused to go back to sleep unless she sang him a lullaby. The moment she stepped outside it had started to rain, and she'd had to run back upstairs for her umbrella. To top it all off, the subway was delayed. And then, for no apparent reason, the train came to a stop in the tunnel, and interminable minutes crawled by before it jerked and began to roll on again.

  With one minute to spare, she rushed through the employees' entrance of the Savoy Plaza. She made it to the maids' dressing room just as that night's shift of chambermaids, smartly turned out in crisp black and white uniforms, were lining up, military fashion, to be inspected by Mrs. Winter, the housekeeper. Already her brisk, sharp footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor.

  Elizabeth-Anne looked around the large, wardrobe-lined room in panic. She started to speak, but one of the maids shook her head and motioned her to silence. She still had no uniform, but realized if she went off in search of one now she would surely be late, even docked. Worse, she might be fired on the spot.

  'Pssst!'

  She glanced at the small maid at the far left end of the line. She was a petite black woman with merry dark eyes. She was desperately motioning for Elizabeth-Anne to fall in beside her.

  The moment Elizabeth-Anne took her place, Mrs. Winter marched into the room, the glower on her face as intimidating as a drill sergeant's.

  Elizabeth-Anne leaned her head forward and gazed to her right. The maids
were all standing stiffly, chests thrust out like pigeons, chins in the air, hands at their sides. She couldn't believe it! This looked more like a military parade than starting-time for a group of hotel maids.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Winter continued her inspection. She strutted to the precise center of the line, spun smartly on her heel, and faced the maids in a wide-legged stance. 'Good evening, ladies,' she announced crisply.

  'Good evening, Mrs. Winter,' echoed the resounding chorus.

  Elizabeth-Anne craned her head forward and stared at Mrs. Winter in fascination. She had never seen another woman quite like her. She was tiny, almost dwarf-like, but had an aggressive bearing. Her black wool dress was cut severely; indeed, there was something severe about every inch of her. Once upon a time her hair had been a rich, glowing shade of honey, but now it was liberally streaked with gray. Her eyes were steely hard and her red lips perpetually pursed.

  'It has come to my attention - ' Mrs. Winter began before breaking off in midsentence as her gaze fell upon Elizabeth-Anne. Her forehead creased into an irritated frown. 'And what is this?' she asked icily.

  Elizabeth-Anne stepped forward. 'I was told to report - '

  'Silence.' Mrs. Winter's voice was like a shotgun report.

  Elizabeth-Anne's blood seemed to boil, sending crimson waves of embarrassment up into her face. For a moment, she couldn't believe that she had heard right. She couldn't remember the last time she had been spoken to in such a sharp manner. The obvious pity of the petite maid beside her only seemed to make things worse. She had the curious feeling that everyone else was holding their breath, relieved that Mrs. Winter had found a victim other than themselves, yet at the same time aware that she might at any moment turn on them. Stunned, Elizabeth-Anne found herself stepping back into line.

  'Tuck your head back in and face forwards,' Mrs. Winter snapped. 'You are, I presume, a young lady and not a turtle?'

  Elizabeth-Anne's eyes flared angrily. She had bargained for many things but not this. Still, she did as she was told.

  Grab hold of your temper! she warned herself. You need this job. You need to see how this place operates, and you needn't take this kind of abuse for long. Just a few days, a few weeks at the most. Then you'll be moving on to someplace else.

  The sharp clack of Mrs. Winter's deliberate footsteps rang out in the room, and the diminutive woman was standing directly in front of Elizabeth-Anne.

  'Your name.' It was not a question; it was a command shot out from between those deceptively tiny lips.

  'Elizabeth-Anne Hale.'

  'You may speak up. And, when you speak to me, you may address me as 'm'am.' '

  Elizabeth-Anne swallowed hard. She barely knew this goading woman, but already she despised her. She hated standing there and taking this abuse, but knew for now she had little choice. In the future, she'd just have to avoid this Mrs. Winter as much as possible. Above all, she would not do battle with her. She would be above reproach. 'Yes, m'am,' she said quietly.

  'I presume the personnel department had you report to me?'

  'Yes, m'am. They did.'

  'I'm sure they did,' the small woman said drily. She paused, then looked Elizabeth-Anne straight in the eye. 'We are not off to a very good start, you realize that, Miss Hale?'

  Elizabeth-Anne raised her head.

  'I'll be watching you closely. I suggest you tread very softly around me if you value your job.'

  And with that, Mrs. Winter turned on her heels and marched out.

  4

  'I'm called Dallas,' the small black maid said with a Texan accent, ' 'cause that's where I'm from.' She lifted a towering stack of freshly laundered white towels out of the linen closet and deposited them in Elizabeth-Anne's arms. 'You carry these, and I'll get another stack.' She scooped up a second pile in her own arms and with a well-practiced backward kick of her foot, snapped the closet door shut.

  'You're from Texas?' Elizabeth-Anne asked in surprise as they walked down the plushly carpeted corridor.

  'Uh-huh.'

  'So am I.'

  'Really!' Dallas looked pleased. 'Then we better make sure us Texans sticks together, honey. That Miss Winter, she's just looking for any excuse to fire us all. Thinks it gives her power, she does.'

  'In that case,' Elizabeth-Anne stated flatly, 'we'll just have to make sure that she doesn't find any fault, won't we?'

  Dallas rolled her eyes. 'You're new, honey. You'll find out soon enough. No matter what you do, she'll manage to find fault. You just wait and see.' She nodded emphatically. 'What I can't understand is what a nice lookin' white woman like you is doin' here. There're better jobs in this here city. Lots of them, if you're white.'

  A half smile came to Elizabeth-Anne's lips. 'A job's a job, Dallas. There's really no difference whether you're a maid or a housekeeper like Mrs. Winter. She just gets paid more.'

  'Does she! Lord. I'd hate to know what she brought home last Thursday.' Dallas shook her head and clucked her tongue. Then she heard the distant jingle of keys and whispered, 'Ssssh.' A moment later, Elizabeth-Anne saw Mrs. Winter turning a corner and heading toward them down the corridor. Only after they had gone into an empty room to change the towels did they speak again.

  'You'll help me, won't you, Dallas?' Elizabeth-Anne asked softly. 'You'll show me the ropes around here?'

  'Course I will. Miss Winter said I should, didn't she?' Dallas grinned. 'Course, I would anyways. But first, you remember that when you hear keys jinglin' and janglin', Miss Winter's somewhere close by. And second, you get yourself some decent workin' shoes, honey. In them - ' she nodded at Elizabeth-Anne's shoes, 'your feet'll swell up like melons and be killin' you in no time at all.'

  Each night for the next week, Elizabeth-Anne pushed herself to the limit. She couldn't believe how hard the work was. She was constantly on her feet, and there was never any time to take a break. Her lower back ached painfully, and it seemed that all she ever did was stoop and carry, stoop and carry. During the very first day on the job, she earned a healthy respect for Dallas. The petite maid always seemed to be in control, and she never uttered a complaint. Somehow, her good humor was contagious. For that, Elizabeth-Anne was grateful.

  The night shift, she was learning quickly, was much more grueling than the day shifts because at night the hotel ran on a skeleton staff. She was especially disappointed because she never seemed to get a chance to talk to any of the maids besides Dallas, to whom Mrs. Winter had assigned her for the entire first week. After that, she would be on her own, and she dreaded it. She was inexperienced. There were a thousand things which could potentially go wrong, and she would have to cope with it all on her own.

  To prepare her, Dallas tried to remember the various situations in which she had found herself - frenzied moments, heart-breaking moments, funny moments:

  ' . . . There I was, and there he was, naked as a jaybird. Dallas got out of there fast as her little feet could carry her, that's what I did.'

  4 . . . That son-of-a-bitch's wife claimed I stole the ring. Sure enough, next mornin' the clean-up crew found it in that carpetin'. Thick as grass it is in that suite, small wonder she couldn't find it herself. But she should of looked. Lord, I nearly lost my job that time, and never heard as much as a peep of apology from anyone.'

  ' . . . She was havin' a baby right there on the bed, and the house doctor was tied up with a man havin' a heart attack . . . '

  Dallas's stories made Elizabeth-Anne aware of the multitude of situations that could go sour, and she knew Mrs. Winter was just waiting for her to make a blunder. It irked her to think that the housekeeper might end up winning their running feud - and that she might end up fired.

  But what distressed her most was realizing that no matter how hard she worked as a maid, it would be a long, long time before she would really learn how the hotel functioned. People like Mrs. Winter - the various concierges, the manager, the banquet manager, the battery of desk clerks - had all been hired for their experience. There was simply no way she co
uld hope to cram it all into several quick crash courses. But at least her experience at the Savoy Plaza had given her a basic idea of how the hotel was run, and an early appreciation of the various workers' expertise.

  But she was not about to quit. Not yet, at any rate. She had decided that if she did one thing only, she would show Mrs. Winter that she wasn't about to get the best of Elizabeth-Anne Hale.

  When she finally got home in the mornings, just as dawn was back dropping the skyscrapers across Fifth Avenue with pale morning light, she was ready to drop into bed and fall into a deep sleep. But that was not possible. She had to stay up for several more hours, waking the children, cooking breakfast for them, and getting them off to school. Somehow she managed to juggle her time, although even she was never clear on exactly how she did it. She only knew that she had to. Owning and running businesses in a small town, she was discovering, had been far easier than working in a huge hotel, where she was at the mercy of the whims of an enormous staff', and the beck and call of hundreds of guests. She had a fine line to tread. Every maid's territory was worked out with specifically scheduled duties, yet not one of them dared talk back to a demanding guest someone else was supposed to take care of - so there always seemed twice as much to do.

  'You're lookin' real tired out,' Dallas told her on her fourth day on the job. 'When you get home this mornin', try to get some sleep.'