by Pamela Pope
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, forcing her away. ‘I’m using you. Forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ She regained her composure, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ll do anything for you, Max, anything at all which will ease the pain. Don’t send me away.’
Her face was still dangerously close and compassion made her yielding. He could feel her warmth and suppleness like a force drawing him irresistibly nearer, and his hands hovered against her shoulders as he fought to shake off temptation. But the sweetness of her femininity, the chance to forget everything, were too much for his willpower, and he gave in.
They were alone now. He drew her against him again, breathing in the fragrance of her skin as he kissed her, and together they sank onto the damp, soot-stained bed. Her arms enfolded him, comforted and strengthened him. Her fingers miraculously kneaded the tension points in his neck, and her lips fluttered over his temple where the pain was bad. She aroused him until restraint was impossible.
Much later he was to feel terrible shame that he had taken her virginity with such selfishness, but at the time there was only blessed relief from the agony of this day’s events in Ellie Harvey’s willing body.
*
Max had to put Ellie out of his mind over the next few days. He and his brother Laban made all the arrangements for Katrina’s funeral as Oliver Devlin had little knowledge of Jewish customs and was too distraught to make any effort to help. Nor did Oliver have the ability or the will to cope with his child, much to everyone’s surprise. It was thought that Galina would bring him comfort, but after the first thrill of finding her alive, he seemed unable to even look at her and his lack of interest was incomprehensible. The baby was left with Momma, who cried over her incessantly, and at the end of that terrible week of grieving all their lives had changed.
Soon after their dear Katrina had been laid to rest, Oliver came to the Berman house and said he was going to Philadelphia.
‘I can’t stay here without my wife,’ he said. ‘I’ve got friends in Philadelphia and I’ve a hankering to visit them, just until I can pull myself together. You’ll look after Galina for me, won’t you, Momma Berman? She’s too young to go travelling yet.’
Max was angry. ‘You can’t do this. Momma shouldn’t be burdened with a baby at her age.’
‘Then who shall I be leaving the child with? Would you rather she went into an orphanage?’
‘Don’t fret, either of you!’ Momma said, cradling her grandchild. ‘I’ll bring the little one up as if she were my Katrina all over again. I’ll love doing it.’
‘I knew you would,’ said Oliver. ‘I knew you’d understand, Momma.’
He left the next day. Perhaps it was for the best. Momma, who had been inconsolable since her daughter’s death, began to take an interest in things again, and after a few more days could be heard crooning softly to the baby in her care.
‘A child costs money,’ grumbled Poppa. ‘He didn’t leave us anything to provide for the child.’
‘What does it matter,’ she said. ‘We shall manage.’
‘We can hardly manage to feed ourselves. Business is bad, Hedda. The recession means no one is buying new suits.’
‘We’ve lost Katrina, but God spared her child to take her place. Would you have grudged our daughter the slightest thing?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then we will think of Galina as another precious daughter.’
Jacob Berman took the baby from his wife’s arms and rocked her as he had done their own. ‘You’re right, Hedda. And you’re a wonderful woman.’
Max was living with his parents until the tenement in Pullman was habitable again. At night the baby cried and Momma paced up and down with it in the next room, and in the mornings she was so tired her face looked as grey as her hair. It broke his heart to see her so overburdened, and he did what he could to relieve the strain, but he couldn’t help financially. On top of everything else there were problems at work which made him so bitter he felt like starting a revolt, though that would have cost him his job altogether and he was not that foolish.
It was all to do with the assistant foreman called Warren, a ‘straw boss’ whom no one liked. The man had no scruples. Max had devised a new and easier method for piping the patterned plush which was to cover the chairs in a new parlour car, but the credit he had expected went to Warren, who claimed the idea was his own.
‘You’re no more than a common thief,’ Max accused him. ‘The idea was mine, and I want recognition for it.’
‘I thought of it before you set foot in this shop,’ blustered Warren.
‘Then why haven’t we used it before? You’re a liar.’
‘You cause trouble, Berman, and I won’t pass your work.’
Like most of the men, Max was on piecework, and when the foreman kept him idle for many unpaid hours there was no higher authority to which he could complain. Warren could also see to it that the price for the job the crew was working on was unfairly divided, and at the end of the week there was precious little money in Max’s pocket.
As a result of this he attended a convention called by Eugene Debs, and he became one of the first members of the newly formed American Railway Union, trusting the promise that the ARU would bring about higher wages and better working conditions.
Sometimes he called on Mariette Schuman, hoping for respite, but he found none. Since possessing Ellie Harvey he felt restless and unhappy, angry with himself for having given way to temptation. And yet the fault had not been entirely his. Ellie had done a lot of encouraging, and that worried him. Making love to her had been an exciting experience in spite of the circumstances, or perhaps because of them, but he couldn’t get over the feeling that she was a danger to his freedom. She was a young lady with a great sense of purpose, and no doubt she’d got what she wanted all her life, so remembering her declaration of love made him uneasy.
Each night he tossed on his bed, sweltering in the Chicago summer heat which seemed worse in the cramped space behind the tailor’s shop than it did in the third-floor tenement in Fulton Street, and thoughts of Ellie Harvey oppressed him.
Six
It was thanks to Drew and Prudence that Ellie’s traumatic visit to Pullman went undiscovered by her father. A call from Max on the telephone had brought Drew to collect her in the gig and Ellie had been smuggled up to her bedroom by the back stairs, feeling frightened but elated, and so much in love she could do nothing except lie on her bed and dream. Her mother had come to see her later and had wanted to send for the doctor, but Ellie had persuaded her to wait until the next morning, by which time she had managed to collect her feelings, and to conceal the inner turmoil which made food seem completely indigestible.
Next day, the story of the fire in a Pullman tenement was in all the Chicago newspapers, and much was made of the tragic death of Katrina Devlin. Max Berman’s name was mentioned, the apartment being rented by him, but if Mama and Papa noticed it they made no comment.
Ellie worried incessantly about Max. She wanted to be with him, but she couldn’t intrude without invitation. All the week she wore her darkest clothes and waited, making excuses for him when no word came. The middle of the following week, Drew brought her a letter, and with fastbeating heart she fled to her room to read it.
‘My dear Ellie,’ Max had written. The endearment thrilled her. ‘I cannot tell you how sad this past week has been. Remembering your compassion has helped me through. I am writing to thank you, and to say again that I am sorry to have involved you so deeply in my affairs.
‘Please don’t think me ungrateful when I say that it would be foolish for us to meet again.’ Her joy evaporated, and now she was stricken. With fear she read on. ‘I am sure you will agree that there are too many difficulties preventing us from becoming closer friends. Your father would forbid it, and mine would frown upon it. Believe me, I think very highly of you and things might have been different in different circumstances. As it i
s, I can see that further meetings would only cause trouble for you, and I have no wish to do that. So this is a letter of goodbye. I hope your future will be happy and I wish you well.
‘Goodbye, Elena. I shall remember you with affection and gratitude. Max.’
Ellie let out a cry of despair. All her hopes were snuffed out, all her love spurned. She was desolate, and she couldn’t accept that his feelings for her were any less than hers for him, not after the intimacy they had shared.
She had just read the letter through for the third time when Drew knocked and came in.
‘He doesn’t want to see me again, Drew,’ she gasped. Her face was white and she was trembling. ‘It’s too awful.’
‘It’s for the best,’ said Drew. ‘Max is a decent sort. He’s got the grace to be honest with you, and that counts for a lot.’
‘But I love him so much. What am I going to do?’
‘You’ll survive.’
‘I’ll never love anyone else.’ Ellie flung herself on her brother and clung to him, weeping. ‘I love you, too. You’ve got to help me.’
‘Not any more, Ellie. For your own good you’ve got to put Max Berman out of your mind.’
‘Not ever,’ she vowed.
Nevertheless she was sensible enough to know that Drew’s advice was sound. Papa would be terribly angry if he ever found out that she had disobeyed him, and without doubt she would be immediately despatched to New York. The thought of having to live with Frederick and Henrietta depressed her more than ever, and so she tried to be strong.
Over the next two weeks she went visiting with Mama, met Clarissa for girlish gossip, and hid her heartache beneath a veneer of smiles. She wove a fantasy in which Max was suffering equally, and in her mind he became a martyr who had sacrificed everything for her sake. That way she was able to cope.
It was well into the fourth week after the fire that she had to admit the plan was not working. She felt continually unwell. Each morning she woke up so dejected it became a physical malady and she had to rush to the closet to be sick.
Nothing escaped Prudence’s notice. After the third attack of sickness the coloured woman came to Ellie’s room with fresh towels and sponged her down in the hipbath. She was silent until the job was done, then she looked at the girl speculatively.
‘Miss Elena, I’m going to ask a question and I want a truthful answer,’ she said. ‘Have you been doing anything you’d no business doing?’
‘Prudence! No, of course I haven’t,’ Ellie protested. Then: ‘What sort of thing?’ Her heart was beating very fast.
‘I’d say, missy, that you’re going to have a baby, and I’m never wrong.’
‘You’re lying, Prudence. How dare you!’ she cried in anger. Yet her protests were a defence against the terrible truth she had suspected.
‘I hope I am, Miss Elena,’ Prudence said quietly.
Oh, at school in France she had giggled with her friends about the peculiarities of marriage, and there had been plenty of guessing about what a husband did to a wife to produce babies. But what had happened between herself and Max had been so wonderful and natural, and it had made her feel so deliriously, so ecstatically happy, she could hardly credit it was the dreaded act she’d heard a woman had to put up with in order to be a good wife. It was, of course, but there had only been the single time. Surely nothing so momentous could have occurred in that brief moment of loving Max with every part of her.
She touched her stomach. It felt tender, but that was because she had just been sick. She looked at herself in the long cheval mirror and saw that the reason why her bodice had felt tight this last week was because her breasts were fuller. Mercy. She knew nothing about the intricacies of pregnancy, but as her fingers explored her body she had to accept that this was what was the matter with her.
The truth was appalling, yet her first experience of intimacy with Max had affected her profoundly and the thought of having his child overwhelmed her.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘So what am I going to do, Prudence?’
How cold it was. Her skin felt raw and she was shivering.
‘I should say, miss, that you should get yourself a husband just as soon as you can, then no one need know it isn’t an early baby. There’s plenty of young men wanting to marry you.’
‘I’ll never marry anyone except Max.’
‘Then see him right away. You can’t go wasting no time.’
Ellie wrapped the towel round her, drawing it tight as if the warm folds would take this thing away. ‘I’m frightened, Prudence. I’m terrified. What if Papa and Mama find out?’
‘They won’t hear anything from me, I swear. But there’ll be no hiding what you’ve got inside you in a few more weeks. Take my advice and go see the young man today.’
‘Papa will never let me marry him.’
‘Your Papa loves you, Miss Elena. He’s never denied you anything you really want, now has he?’
Ellie took the train to Pullman. She sat in the carriage looking out on scenery she had viewed with Max on that eventful day which had totally changed her life, and she could hardly believe that everything looked just the same.
Prudence had lent her a plain dress which wouldn’t attract attention, and she wore a hat with a veil. She was glad of the veil. It enabled her to observe one of the women opposite without appearing to do so. She looked to be not much older than herself, but she had a child of about a year old wriggling on the seat beside her because room on her lap was limited by the swelling beneath her drab frock. It was the first time Ellie had studied a woman who was obviously pregnant. The mound looked uncomfortable, and the girl kept moving as if the hard seat made her back ache, but she looked happy. There was a glow about her.
This is how I shall look, Ellie thought. She had spent all of the precious day reconciling herself to a fact which couldn’t be changed, and now she felt stronger. She was going to give Max the most precious gift it was possible to give — the gift of creation. He couldn’t fail to be moved by it. For the first time since the discovery of her condition Ellie began to feel excitement. She wanted to be with Max for the rest of her life, and Fate had conspired to make that possible.
Pullman looked different on a working day. Shops were open in the Arcade and there was bustling activity around the school and the Florence Hotel. No one took any notice of her and when she asked the way to the upholstery shop it was assumed she was going there for a job.
At the office she asked for Max Berman, but had to wait until lunch-time before she could see him. His surprise was almost comic and if the situation had not been so serious she would have laughed.
‘Ellie!’ he exclaimed, as she lifted the veil. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘I have to talk to you,’ she said. ‘It’s very important.’
‘I’ve no time. And I meant what I said in my letter about us not meeting again.’
‘I’m expecting a baby, Max.’ If he had no time then it was vital to shock him into listening. ‘I want to know if you’ll marry me.’
He opened his mouth, but no sound came. For a moment he stared at her as if she had confronted him with some vicious lie, then he bowed his head and appeared to be doing battle with his emotions.
‘Are you certain?’ he asked.
‘Quite certain. But nobody knows except Prudence.’
He walked with her along the path bordering Lake Vista and they talked of the dilemma haltingly, in staccato sentences, questions and answers solving nothing.
‘I don’t love you, Ellie,’ he said.
‘But I love you enough for us both.’
‘People would say I’d married you for your dowry.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Your father would never agree.’
She faced him, her heart beating so erratically it made her voice quiver. ‘If you don’t marry me, Max, I’ll have to accept Randolph Sale. Before he went back to University with
Lionel he swore his undying love and I know he would jump at the chance. Then you’d never see our baby.’
‘You’re trying to blackmail me.’
‘No, I’m being practical.’
‘You’re carrying my child. I care about you.’
‘Then say you’ll ask my father for my hand. I’ll get Drew to speak for you, too. He knows how much I love you.’
Max let out his breath on a long sigh. ‘Oh Ellie, what a mess.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she said. She tucked her hand into his and their fingers automatically twined. ‘I’ll make you a good wife.’
‘I must have my own father’s blessing.’
He was weakening. She began to feel easier. ‘Of course. You must arrange for me to meet your parents. I’ve always wanted to.’
They had reached 111th Street, the wide boulevard which formed a boundary between the factories and the community. Over to the right, beyond the Florence Hotel, lay the network of streets where the tenements were. Max turned her to face him and he grasped her shoulders.
‘Would you live here with me, Ellie?’ he asked. ‘Would you sacrifice your fine life in Prairie Avenue and all the luxuries that come with it to be with me here in Pullman?’
‘Yes, Max — but it won’t come to that. Papa will set us up with a nice home and you might be able to work alongside Drew in the Company.’
‘Supposing I don’t want that? I’m proud. I won’t be humiliated, not for your sake.’
‘Please, Max. For the sake of our child.’
He looked fierce, his eyes boring into her. His silence while he made up his mind was frightening. Then: ‘All right, Ellie Harvey, I’ll ask your father, but I’ll not go grovelling.’
