A TWIST OF FATE
Chapter Fifty-Six
Jack dozed most of the way home on the train.
He was tired and his head was full of things to do. He had some portraits left
at the apartment and he decided to do a couple of days at the park to see what
he could sell. He needed the money. He was also aware that some people might be
looking out for him. But having disappeared for a week, he was gambling on the
fact that they were no longer ‘looking’. After all, he would be gone Friday.
That posed another problem, getting to speak to Rose.
He dragged himself off the train and walked
to the block where his apartment was. Back to reality, back to earning some
money.
*****
Trudy was still very concerned over the
remarks made to her. But she decided not to mention it to Rose, not at least
until she was more certain something was wrong. Edward had fetched two trunks
from the loft and Trudy dragged them into Rose’s room.
"What on earth are you doing
Trudy?" she asked from her bed.
"I have to pack Miss Rose. For
Friday." Trudy stood up and straightened her uniform. "I have
instructions from the Master as to what you are to take."
"Have you indeed!" retorted Rose.
"Well I will have a look at that if you don’t mind." She held out her
hand. "And what time has he deemed we shall leave?"
Trudy gave Rose the note. "Well that is
the thing Miss Rose." She hesitated.
Rose looked at her. "What is it
Trudy?"
"I am not going. Master's orders."
"Not going? How ridiculous!" cried
Rose. "And this list. It is so simple. What on earth is going on?"
Trudy resisted temptation to say anything.
"Well, it is a convalescent home, Miss Rose. Maybe you won’t need a maid
and I’m sure there will be no entertaining."
"It is a convalescent home, not a
convent," yelled Rose. She was feeling better for sure and not in the mood
for Cal’s games. She was soon to be free; to be rid of him and her old
confidence had come back a little.
"I’m sorry Trudy. I did not mean to
shout at you. I have been very stressed of late. Tell me is Cal here at the
moment?"
"No miss, he went out. I believe he is
expected later tonight."
"Then pack not one thing and ask Lovejoy
to ensure Master Cal comes to see me as soon as he returns. I will not go as a
pauper."
"Will that be it Miss?" Trudy
hovered. She was almost tempted to say something, but changed her mind.
Relieved by Rose, she went downstairs.
It was late when Cal returned, much to Cook’s
annoyance as she had made dinner. Trudy found Lovejoy and passed on the
message. She caught a glimpse of Cal, who seemed slightly the worse for wear.
"Miss Rose wishes to see you on your
return,"" Lovejoy informed him.
Cal grunted in return. He made his way up the
stairs, a smile on his face. He had won a large amount of money on the card
table at the gentleman’s club that afternoon and by Friday Rose would be out of
the house. He had also heard about a young lady that afternoon, the daughter of
a fellow gentleman at the table who was also a banker. That may be advantageous
too. Things were going well.
Rose was reading when Cal strolled in without
knocking.
"So you are back," she said with
annoyance, especially when she saw the state he was in.
"You wanted something?"
"Yes I do. I want to know the meaning of
this pathetic list of clothes and I also wish to know why Trudy is not going
with me on Friday."
"You will not be requiring a maid or any
extravagances. It is a convalescent home Rose."
"I will not go as a pauper. I am still
Mrs. Hockley. I have agreed to do this for you. The least you should do is
treat me with respect until I return."
"Respect? I find it hard to accept that
now you want the fine clothes and all the trappings of being my wife when all
you have done is deny me and run round with impoverished artists."
"I have no idea what you are talking
about Cal."
"You don’t?" he asked. He walked
over to the bed. "I refer to a certain Mr. Dawson."
"Jack?" she asked puzzled. "He
did some pictures for me Cal, nothing more. I’m quite sure if anything improper
had occurred your spies will have informed you."
"My spies have told me enough. I am
tired of your games Rose. I am tired of you."
"Well, don’t worry Cal. I will soon be
out of your way."
"Indeed you will." He smirked.
"Have you decided the terms of our
divorce?" she ventured.
"Yes Rose, I have. You will get
nothing." He laughed.
Rose began to feel worried and threatened by
Cal’s demeanor.
"You have to give me something
Cal."
"Do I?"
"Why, yes," she faltered.
"After all I never told anyone that you threw me down the stairs and
murdered our child."
Cal looked at her evilly.
"You tripped and fell my dear. Everyone
knows that."
"They don’t know anything. They are
guessing. I could tell them the truth Cal."
He leaned closer to her, so that she could
feel and smell his breath.
"You won’t tell anyone anything. You see
Rose, they think you are mad. Disturbed by the loss of your baby. It happens a
lot you know. They think you are demented, suicidal. No one will believe
anything you say."
"What do you mean?" cried Rose.
"I am not demented."
Cal laughed, never taking his eyes from hers.
"They think you are. That is
enough."
"This is madness Cal. I will tell
them."
"There is no point. You are going away.
No one will believe you. I haven’t even seen a lawyer. I could divorce you on
the grounds you are demented and I don’t have to pay you a penny. You can rot
in that home for as long as it takes. You will not be needing a maid Rose. Or
your clothes. Do you understand now?"
With a chuckle he stood up, towering over the
figure of Rose who clutched her chest in disbelief.
"Cal you cannot do this to me."
He leaned back over her and pinned her arms
down. Almost pushing his face into hers he spat, "I can do what I like,
you are my wife in the eyes of the law. You have caused me nothing but trouble.
You have not behaved as a wife and the game ends here. You will go on
Friday."
Standing back up he smiled again.
"Good night Rose and if I do not see you
before Friday, good-bye."
Rose watched terrified as Cal left. She was
in no doubt that Cal was evil and calculating. But she now feared for her life.
If she went to that home on Friday, she would never leave. What could she do?
Who could she turn to? No friends, not her mother. She put her head in her
hands. She was truly alone and afraid.