Dancing in Red (a Wear Black novella) by Heather Hiestand, Eilis Flynn Read Free Book Online Page A

Mrs. Pelham,” Nellie said
dutifully. She wondered what kind of people stayed at the hotel. If they were
theatrical types it might be of use to her.
    “It’s perfect for you because there is a
uniform. You simply don’t have the kind of clothes a working girl needs.”
    She had virtually no clothing at all,
and the lavender wool dress she’d worn all this time was dark with wear by now.
“I’ve come down in the world.”
    Mrs. Pelham shook her head, her tightly
wound gray hair looking like a lamb’s curls. “I never saw any Irish dressed
like you. Those slippers and that shawl. I’ve wondered who you stole them
from.”
    At that, Nellie grit her teeth. She
wouldn’t be offering her shawl in thanks. This sanctimonious woman didn’t
deserve something so pretty, even if the family had kept her barely alive these
past two weeks. At least she found out before she had made the gesture.
    “When do I start work?” she asked,
putting it aside from her mind.
    “Day after tomorrow. Go over there in
the morning and you’ll be given your uniform and bed.”
    Nellie nodded. The next act of her life
had begun.
    A week later she had learned her new
position, much to her sorrow. She wasn’t sure how long she would last in a
position that allowed so little sleep. While she was supposed to have five
hours’ rest each night, the selfish cook often asked Nellie to bring her
morning tea even earlier than duty required, robbing Nellie of precious time.
And one of the girls who slept with her behind the basement kitchen snored as
much as any fat old man. As a result, she found herself growing more wan, more
tired, instead of recovering from losing the baby. She ate when she could,
closed her eyes when she could, but she could tell it wasn’t enough.
    She stumbled on the steps as she lifted
the first coal bucket of the morning, severely bruising her knee. By the third
bucket, she had to brace herself against the corridor walls with her hand for
balance as she stepped quietly from room to room, filling the scuttles and
lighting morning fires.
    When she entered room 204, she smelled
the most marvelous perfume. Like springtime, with an underlying layer of some
heavenly, thick scent that was almost musical in its complexity. After a week
of breathing dusty coal and longer of smelling horse dung in the Pelhams’
stable, the scent was as clean as driven snow.
    Startled, she more dropped her bucket
than set it down, the clank of the bucket ringing louder than she meant to.
Luckily, this was a suite and the hotel guest was in the bedroom. Shaking her
head—she had to wake up, she had to sharpen up—she arranged the kindling from
the basket and laid the fire, but didn’t light it yet. Then curiosity got the
better of her and she crept into the bedroom.
    The curtains were still drawn around the
bed, but the scent was stronger still. She wanted to move closer, see the kind
of person who smelled like that. Even better, she wanted to find the source of
the scent. Was it a commercial perfume? Of course, she couldn’t afford such a
thing right now, but someday she might have a distinguished protector again, or
even better, be able to buy it for herself when she was a prominent actress.
    Her eye began to itch as she knelt in
front of the grate. She put a hand to her temple and her coal-darkened fingers
came away with several limp strands of hair. She’d been losing it lately, ever
since the baby had died. What she wouldn’t do for sunlight and good food, the
kinds of things promised by that heavenly scent. The smell seemed so much
heavier now. Her eyes closed on their own and she forced them open again. The
coal seemed to undulate in her bucket as she reached her hand in. She felt so
tired, so light, so far away from her cares. Her eyes closed again without her
knowing it, her senses overcome by the comforting, heavenly perfume.
    Nellie came to slowly. The scent seemed
to surround her. She forced her eyes open and saw a sweet-faced,