by Michelle Cox
The telephone message handed to her now from Mrs. Schmidt read to call Lucy at her earliest convenience, so after excusing herself from Ma and Elsie, Henrietta slipped into the hall where the large black telephone sat on a little table, neatly placed atop a crocheted doily and accompanied by a little pad of paper and a pencil to take messages that rarely came. Henrietta patiently waited for the operator to put the call through and felt herself smile when Lucy’s excited voice answered. The two exchanged happy pleasantries, and Lucy went on to explain that she and the girls wanted to treat her before she “tied the knot,” is how she put it, though there wasn’t much time left now, and could she possibly come out with them tonight? It was the only night all three of them had off. They should have called her earlier, Lucy acknowledged, but Gwen had just at the last minute gotten out of her shift. What did she say? Lucy had asked, practically begging her to come.
Henrietta paused, not knowing what to say and trying to think quickly. She was touched that they wanted to see her, but she had so much to do! Really, it was unwise. And besides, Ma would certainly grumble, probably saying something like she had not been here two seconds before feeling the need to gallivant off again. However, being downtown these past two days had made her excited and antsy, unsettled despite her exhaustion. Maybe it would be good to spend one last night with them, she reasoned. And didn’t she really owe it to them? she persuaded herself.
“Well …” Henrietta began.
“Please!” Lucy urged, before she could finish. “You should take a couple of hours off for yourself. It will be good for you! Besides, we’ll make it worth your while …”
“All right, then,” Henrietta acquiesced, laughing a little now that the decision had been made and hurriedly took down the details.
Ma had indeed grumbled, but Henrietta steeled herself to ignore her, though she did feel a little guilty when Elsie had wistfully said goodbye. She had thought about taking Elsie with her, but she wasn’t sure that whatever Lucy and the gang had planned would be completely appropriate for Elsie’s young eyes. She would try to make it up to her tomorrow, she promised herself.
Reluctantly she had arranged for Karl, the not-quite-elderly man servant employed by Mr. Exley to be both butler and chauffer for the Von Harmons, to drive her, having sworn to Clive that she would only take the Packard left for them by Mr. Exley and never a cab or—God forbid!—the motorbus. She knew he was still haunted by the fact that Neptune remained at large; she was, too, to be honest, but she tried not to let him see her fear anymore, knowing now how sensitive he was about protecting her. In fact, she was pretty sure he would disapprove of her going out at all tonight if he had known, but she felt certain she would be safe with old Karl. She felt guilty, though, because she knew she was taking him from his cup of cocoa and The Shadow, his favorite radio program. Still, there was nothing for it; she had already promised the girls.
As requested, Karl drove her to The Green Mill on Broadway, where the girls had suggested they meet. As they neared, he told Henrietta not to hurry, that he had his paper and his thermos, as well as the almanac, and that she should enjoy herself. Henrietta was touched by his generosity, not really knowing him all that well, though she thought he seemed fond of her. He had told her on the drive over that he had known her mother in her younger days, having once worked in the big Exley mansion as a boot boy back when they still had such things. Henrietta listened politely, but she found it almost impossibly hard to concentrate on Karl’s ramblings just at the moment.
When they finally pulled up to the curb, Henrietta looked out at the bright lights of the Green Mill’s sign and was surprised at how excited she felt. Karl shuffled around the front of the car to her side and opened the Packard’s door for her. She took a deep breath as she slipped out, giving Karl a faint wave of farewell, and proceeded to enter the club. Carefully she made her way in, peering through the thick fog of cigarette smoke to see if she could see the girls. Almost immediately she spotted the beautiful Lucy at a table in the back, right near the stage. The girls saw her then, too, and waved excitedly to her to join them. Henrietta wedged her way through the crowd, delighted to see the old gang—it had been so long! As she approached, they all exclaimed over her, saying hello and commenting on how much older and certainly stylish she looked.
“Look at you, Gumdrop!” Lucy said after she embraced her, “all grown up!”
Henrietta smiled at being called by her old nickname as she squeezed in next to them. She looked out excitedly at the throng of couples on the dance floor; the band was playing “Blue Skies.”
“You all look wonderful, too!” Henrietta shouted above the music.
“I’ll get you a drink,” Rose offered. “Your usual?” she said, and Henrietta nodded.
“So you’ve landed on your feet after all, kid,” Gwen said, smiling at her. “Lucy told us you’re to be lady of the manor up north or something like that. Who would have thought the old inspector was loaded? Well, good for you, sweets.”
“You’ll have to tell us all about it!” Lucy said eagerly.
“Wait for me, though,” Rose said, coming up now with a glass of beer for Henrietta. Henrietta smiled again; she couldn’t remember the last time she had had beer.
“Oh, why don’t you tell me about all of you!” Henrietta exclaimed. “I’m sure it’s much more interesting, anyway. Tell me about the Melody Mill!”
The girls spent the evening exchanging news, in between Rose getting up and down to dance at times whenever a suitable man presented himself. Henrietta was asked several times herself, but each time she declined, thinking of Clive and relishing the warmth of knowing that there was someone waiting for her at home, guiltily realizing that the “home” that came to mind was indeed Highbury, not the old apartment and certainly not Palmer Square. Neither Lucy nor Gwen were asked to dance, however, which seemed odd considering how attractive at least Lucy was, but then Henrietta noticed that they both wore gold bands where a wedding ring would normally be. Henrietta had left her own large emerald-and-diamond engagement ring in her room in Palmer Square, though normally she was never without it, much to Mrs. Howard’s annoyance, who preferred that it be kept in the vault. No one in the family had ever had the audacity to wear it on a regular basis, Antonia had intimated to Clive, as it smacked of ill-breeding. Henrietta, for her part, thought this line of reasoning ridiculous when Clive had laughingly repeated the conversation to her in private. “What good is a ring kept in a drawer?” she had insisted, thinking of poor Helen’s sad story and her lost ring. And anyway, she wanted the world to know of her love for Clive, and wearing it, she had to admit, made her feel more confident, her token of authenticity, as it were, into this strange, foreign world in which she was choosing now to dwell. Clive had smiled at all of this and, against his mother’s private protests to him, had allowed Henrietta to permanently wear it. She had had the wisdom, however, to leave it behind on such a night as tonight.
Henrietta pointed to Lucy’s ring when Rose was off dancing. “Still a couple, then?” she asked with a smile.
“We wear these to stop men from approaching,” Gwen said, holding up her hand briefly. “Doesn’t stop all of them, though, the swine,” she said, taking a swig from the glass of gin she held, reminding Henrietta, again, of the Marlowe. “But, yes, we are still a couple,” she said, giving Lucy a rare, amorous glance.
“What about Rose?” Henrietta asked. “Why is she dancing with men? Just for fun?”
“She’s decided to go back the other way, she says,” Lucy explained. “Gwen thinks it’s a stage, but it might be real. Who knows? Sometimes girls just like to experiment. Or she might just want kids, so she’ll put up with having to have a husband.”
Henrietta peered across the dance floor to where she saw Rose being held tightly by a young man as they danced to “A Fine Romance” and tried to guess Rose’s true sexual orientation, which was obviously impossible to do just by looking.
“Speaking of,” Lucy said myster
iously, “we got you a little gift.” Lucy reached into a bag on the floor beside her and handed Henrietta a box that looked curiously like the box Julia had given her not but a few days before. Henrietta hoped it did not contain something too outrageous.
“Thanks, girls!” she managed to say. “You didn’t have to get me a gift!”
Rose came to the table now, flushed. “Hey! You said you’d wait for me!” she said, picking up her drink as she sat down quickly with a thud.
“Well, you’re here now,” Gwen said to her absently. “Go on, then, open it!” she said, giving Henrietta a nudge.
Henrietta slowly opened the box and pulled out a white, almost see-through silk negligee followed by a matching black one. Beside her, the girls giggled. Henrietta held them up and forced herself to smile, though the sight of such articles caused her stomach to clench up in fear from the memories it unexpectedly dredged up about the night she had been forced to wear such a thing and tied to a bed by Neptune. She hadn’t realized that there was so much fear still in her, and she struggled to breathe normally.
“Thanks, girls,” she found herself saying. “They’re … they’re lovely! You shouldn’t have spent all your money!”
“Well, we had to give the inspector a bit of thrill, even though you’ll be more than enough for the likes of him, I should imagine,” Gwen joked. “We got both black and white depending on whether you’re feeling naughty or nice!” she grinned.
“Yes, we couldn’t have you go to your wedding night unprepared,” Lucy agreed. “I’m sure all the swells you’re living with now wouldn’t think to get you something like this, so we had to come to your rescue, just like the old days, right, Gumdrop?”
Henrietta couldn’t help but smile, despite her discomfort at seeing the negligees. She had missed the girls’ company more than she realized.
“You sure you want to marry this guy?” Gwen asked, then, more seriously. “It’s not too late, you know.”
“He does seem a bit old,” Rose put in. “I’m sure you could do better, Henrietta. I couldn’t believe it, actually, when Lucy told us you were engaged to him.”
“Yeah, but his money makes up for it,” Gwen added, giving Henrietta a little wink before she could offer any protest. “For that much money, I could put up with some groping at night.”
“You’d still have some man telling you what to do, though,” Lucy said.
“Yeah, and instead you have Gwen to tell you what to do!” Rose laughed, causing Lucy to give her a playful shove.
“On that note, I think I’ll powder my nose,” Gwen said with a smile, as she slid out of the booth. Within minutes, the lovely Rose was asked to dance again, leaving Henrietta and Lucy momentarily alone. Henrietta looked out at the dance floor, trying to control her swirling thoughts. It was Lucy that broke her reverie, laying her hand on Henrietta’s arm.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” she asked, serious now.
Henrietta momentarily considered bluffing but abandoned this idea just as quickly. She was too tired to keep up the facade, and if she was honest, she didn’t really want to. She nodded. “Maybe a little.”
“Hey, kid, don’t worry. It’s not that bad.”
“How would you know?” Henrietta laughed despite her unease.
“You think I haven’t been with a man before?” Lucy asked, incredulous.
Henrietta shrugged. “Well, if you have, you obviously didn’t like it.”
Lucy laughed. “It was passable,” she said, giving her a wink.
Henrietta tried to conjure up a smile.
Lucy leaned closer. “Listen, sweets. You love the inspector, right? And he loves you; anyone can see that by the way he looks at you. He’s kissed you, right?”
Henrietta blushed and nodded.
“And you liked it, right?”
Henrietta nodded again, this time not being able to contain a small smile.
“Okay then, you just keep going.”
Henrietta thought back to the night in Clive’s apartment where she had been ready to give herself to him, how he had lifted the folds of her dress and lightly caressed her breasts before he had stopped himself. She had been on fire, then, wanting him to keep touching her, to continue his soft kisses. Of course Clive will be gentle! she reasoned again. She couldn’t speak for her father or Randolph or perhaps the man Lucy had been with, but surely she knew Clive, didn’t she?
“Just try to relax,” Lucy went on. “Follow his lead. You might just enjoy it,” she smiled. “It’s not shameful,” she added, more seriously. “To enjoy it, that is.”
“How do I …” Henrietta paused, trying to think of the right words. “How do I … well, please him?” Henrietta asked, her voice barely audible. She gave Lucy a sideways glance.
Lucy grinned. “He’ll show you, I’m sure. And if he doesn’t, ask him to—he’ll love it.” Henrietta considered this option; she hadn’t thought of simply being honest with Clive. Asking him to guide her.
“If nothing else, try this,” Lucy said and leaned closer to whisper something in her ear.
“Lucy!” Henrietta exclaimed, her face a brilliant shade of red by now.
The other girls came up, then, and the conversation thankfully turned in a different direction yet again, Henrietta laughing now and feeling oddly relieved to have finally confided in someone and to have had her fears heard and dispelled—at least for now.
When they finally parted it was past ten o’clock. The girls escorted Henrietta out and embraced her. They were going on to the Aragon and begged Henrietta to come with them, but she declined, knowing Elsie would be up waiting and feeling sorry for Karl as well. Besides, she was not now accustomed to staying out as late as she had used to and was, in truth, very tired.
They said goodbye, then, Lucy giving her hand a final squeeze as she embarrassingly climbed into the Packard that Karl had brought around, the girls whistling at the luxury of it.
“Good luck,” Lucy whispered. “You’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Luce,” she whispered back.
“See you in a few days when you’ll be Mrs. Howard!”
The girls waved as the car pulled away, and Henrietta settled back against the seat, her box of new negligees sliding across the shiny black seat as Karl made an uncharacteristically sharp turn onto Clark.
“Have a good night, Miss?” Karl asked drowsily.
“Yes, I did, Karl. Thanks,” Henrietta replied with a smile, thinking how strange it was that the future mistress of Highbury received her first real, and only, actually, wedding-night advice from a lesbian cocktail waitress, formerly employed as an usherette at a burlesque theater.
Chapter 5
The big day finally arrived—October 19, 1935—Henrietta’s wedding day.
The house in Palmer Square was all aflutter as Henrietta helped everyone into their wedding clothes. She had finally forced Ma to choose something at Field’s, which had turned out to be a two-piece black skirt and jacket with a respectable hat. Henrietta had quite liked another in a shade of deep rose, but Ma had insisted on the black, saying it would be more suitable, seeing as she was presenting herself back into society now as a widow. Henrietta couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper, more overt reason for choosing black, but she let it go, happy that Ma had at least agreed to buy something new, apparently choosing to finally relinquish—if only to herself— her pride, knowing as she must that Oldrich Exley had paid for it.
Mrs. Andrews, Mrs. Howard’s own personal maid, had been dispatched very early this morning to Palmer Square to help the female Von Harmons to do their hair, as she really was a very talented hair-dresser, and Henrietta had likewise come to trust her. Henrietta and Elsie were upstairs with her now as each in turn had their hair brushed and twisted up and set with pins of pearl. Henrietta had dubiously offered Ma Mrs. Andrews’s services as well, sure that she would refuse them, and was therefore surprised when Ma begrudgingly accepted. She grumbled afterward, of course, that it wasn’t what she ha
d wanted, but had surprisingly left her newly coiffed hair just as Mrs. Andrews had styled it.
Ma had then made her way to the nursery to ask Nanny Kuntz if the children were ready. Mrs. Kuntz rather breathlessly replied that she had everything well in hand, thank you very much. In reality she had spent the morning puffing after Doris, Donny, and Jimmy in her effort to make them presentable, but their excitement was running high, and she was having a hard go of it. Ma, standing in the doorway, had quickly inspected the three of them and admonished them to settle down, for heaven’s sake.
Apparently feeling, then, that she had fulfilled her maternal duty for the immediate moment, she turned on her heel, without a word of thanks to the poor nanny, and went back downstairs and wandered into the parlor to fretfully wait, phrases and bits of laughter from Henrietta or Elsie floating down the stairs to her as she sat, then paced, around the room.
Martha tried to drink some of the coffee that Odelia, the maid, had brought in earlier along with a plate of fresh buns from the kitchen, but it left only a bitter taste in her mouth, causing her to suspect that Odelia had burnt it yet again. How could you burn coffee? Martha had fumed many times. What was the use of having servants if they didn’t know how to do anything? In her day, someone would have been sacked for something much less than that by her father.
Her father. She hated the fact that he had returned to her life now. She had tried so hard to put that life behind her, but he had found her out in her shame and humiliation, as she perhaps always knew he someday would. A small part of her had wanted to go to him and embrace him that day when he appeared in the apartment to meet them all, but her stubborn pride had held her back. She had refused to let him see her capitulate at that moment or—heaven help her—cry.
