PH02 - Do Not Disturb by Kate Kingsbury Read Free Book Online Page A

loudly smacked her lips. “Does grow on you,” the housemaid said, holding up the glass. “I think I can manage another one.”
    She actually managed three, by which time her cheeks were fiery red, her eyes were beginning to match her cheeks, and her speech had become thick and somewhat confused.
    “Think I’ll shleep here,” she announced, waving the empty glass at Mrs. Chubb. “Can’t feel me bloody legs, or me bot come to that. Pleash blow the fire out … no … need the bloody fire … water’s cold.” Her loud giggle ended in ahiccup. “Jush put the whole bloody thing on the fire … warm me up.”
    Mrs. Chubb viewed the housemaid’s swaying naked body in alarm. Maybe she had overdone things. Gertie was built like a cart horse—it was going to be difficult to get her out of the tub.
    She took the glass from Gertie’s hand. “Come on now, my girl, you’ve had quite enough. If that doesn’t do the trick, nothing will.”
    “I think jush one more,” Gertie said, trying to hold her head up long enough to look at Mrs. Chubb.
    “Not one more drop.” The housekeeper grabbed the towel she had ready and held it up. “Can you stand by yourself?”
    “Of coursh I can.” Gertie struggled for a minute, but only managed to slide farther into the water. “Think I’ll shleep here,” she muttered, and closed her eyes.
    “Oh, Lord Almighty.” Mrs. Chubb dropped the towel and squeezed around the end of the tub. Grasping Gertie by the armpits, she heaved with all her might. The slippery wet body slid out of her hands, and Gertie shrieked with wild laughter.
    “Oops-a-daisy, mind you don’t bloody drown me, then.” She hiccuped twice and closed her eyes again.
    Mrs. Chubb tried in vain to awaken her, but no amount of shoving or slapping of wet skin seemed to have any effect. She couldn’t just leave her there, the housekeeper thought worriedly. For one thing she’d catch her death of cold once the water cooled off. For another, it was entirely possible that she could slip under the water.
    She wasted several more minutes trying to heave the limp body out of the tub, but Gertie’s dead weight was too much for her. There was nothing for it, Mrs. Chubb decided. She’d have to get help. She would have to risk leaving Gertie alone and pray she didn’t drown while she went and woke up Ethel.
    With a last worried look at the now unconscious body in the bathtub, she rushed out into the hallway and down to the maid’s quarters. Flinging open the door, she started to callout Ethel’s name, then closed her mouth in despair when she saw the empty bed.
    Who else could she trust? Gertie would be horrified if anyone found out about her predicament. Ethel was her close friend, but if anyone else on the Pennyfoot staff knew about this, the story would be all over the hotel by morning.
    Dashing back to her sitting room, Mrs. Chubb assured herself that Gertie’s head remained above water. If she didn’t get her out of that water soon, she thought, the girl was going to catch her death of cold. She would have to ask for help from the one person who would not gossip. Madam.
    On her way up the stairs to the lobby, Mrs. Chubb prayed she was doing the right thing. What if madam gave Gertie the sack over this? It would kill the girl to lose her job. Where would she go? What would she do?
    Her face creased in worry, Mrs. Chubb rounded the top of the stairs. She now faced the main doors across the lobby, and as she paused for breath, they opened. A gust of wind swept across the carpeted floor as a tall, robust figure dressed in widow’s weeds entered from the black night outside.
    Mrs. Chubb believed in accepting a clear sign of Providence. Mrs. Parmentier had made it clear that she wished to be left alone. She had left instructions that she did not want her room cleaned, and when Gertie had taken up afternoon tea, the widow had taken the tray from her at the door, preventing her from entering the room.
    She was obviously the