A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Thirty

They passed the time listening to the Victrola in the parlor. Angelica's parents and other members of the troupe had amassed an impressive collection of phonograph records: popular songs as well as classical standards, opera, and German folk tunes.

Angelica taught them card games she'd learned from the wealthy tenants of the boarding house. Then she brought them into the kitchen and mixed them each a martini. Then they played more cards. And had more to drink.

It had been hours since their taxi had dropped Charlotte off in a deserted area near the docks which Angelica and Rose knew to be populated with prostitutes and vagrants. It was all Rose could do to remain where she was and not run after her. She was relieved Vera wasn't familiar with her surroundings.

They were talkative now. The liquor had loosened their tongues.

"I've never let a man...touch me," Angelica said, her eyes trained on the fireplace, where the logs burned and gave the room an eerie glow. "I mean, I've kissed one of the actors on the mouth, but I wouldn't let him go any further."

"When I was six years old I lifted my skirts and showed a cousin my bloomers for a penny," Vera commented. "Does that count?"

They all laughed. Rose tensed, sensing that they were expecting an anecdote from her, and jumped when the grandfather clock in the hallway struck one. Vera frowned and wandered over to the window, parting the draperies and squinting out into the snow.

"Goodness, it's a full-scale blizzard!" she cried in horror. "What's taking her so long?"

They'd anticipated Charlotte by half past twelve. The doctor had assured Vera in their telephone conversation that he would bring Charlotte there personally, but under no circumstances was anyone to come searching for her. He'd refused to give out his address and insisted on a clandestine meeting with Charlotte on the corner where they'd dropped her off.

By one-thirty, Vera had had enough. She began to stumble around looking for her coat. "I'm going out there," she slurred. "She could be in trouble."

Angelica grabbed her by the shoulders. "Are you crazy? You wouldn't now where to look; you'd only get lost and then you'd freeze to death. Let me go."

Rose, in the window seat, was staring outside and thought she saw a huddled figure moving awkwardly up the street. She sat up sharply and observed the figure weaving from side to side. Suddenly, it fell and lay on its side in the snow.

"It's her!" Rose cried and ran for the front door and outside without stopping. She slipped and nearly fell on a wet patch on the stoop. Fortunately Vera was on her heels and caught her in time.

When they reached her Charlotte lay motionless, one arm outstretched crookedly at her side, snow already dusting her face. Her clothing had been rearranged in a haphazard fashion on her thin frame, and in many places her skin was exposed to the elements.

Rose knelt and touched her face, feeling a terrible sense of deja vu.

"Angelica, get a blanket!" Vera shouted into the wind. It was the first time Rose was aware of the biting chill. Angelica was off like a jackrabbit. Rose and Vera attempted to lift Charlotte--and that's when they saw the blood. A pool of it trickling down Charlotte's stockings and staining the snow.

*****

At Angelica's insistence, they lugged Charlotte to her bedroom, resting her on a pile of towels and covering her with a blanket. Her breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps.

Vera pulled a rocking chair up to her roommate's bedside and grasped her hand. Angelica leaned against a wall, arms folded, refusing to look at the bed. Tears wound their way down her cheeks and came to rest around the edges of her mouth.

Jack, Rose thought. You are my strength. Tell me what to do.

"We need to fetch a doctor," Vera repeated for the twentieth time.

"We tried," Rose reminded her patiently. "The phone line is dead."

"There must be some way to get through to the switchboard. Can't you try again?"

"We can't!" Angelica screamed at her. "Face it, Vera, you've killed her!"

Vera stared at Angelica blankly for a moment before an expression of pure hatred darkened her face. "Why you little prima donna--"

"I'm going for help," Rose stated. The words came out so softly she wasn't sure if she had spoken aloud.

"We're going to jail," Angelica whimpered.

"Hush!" Vera yelled at her. "She'll hear you!"

"I'm going for help," Rose said again, loudly this time.

"She can't hear anything," Angelica retorted.

Neither of them seemed to notice as Rose left the room.

She dressed quickly in all her layers and scribbled a short note letting the others know of her destination. Then it was outside to brave the blizzard.

The driving snow hit her with force, temporarily blinding her. Earlier, Rose hadn't been aware of just how desolate the landscape looked, but now as she paused to tighten her scarf around her neck, she noticed that there was not a single vehicle on the street. No one was outside on their stoop; the windows of nearly every other brownstone on the block appeared to be shuttered against the cold. She was halfway to the corner before the thought crossed her mind that the el probably wasn't running.

But the subway had to be. There was a station on 9th St, she recalled. It wasn't far, but in which direction?

Rose heard the horn blaring before she saw the headlamps facing her dead-on, and realized she had wandered into the street. She attempted to run, slipped, and fell just as the car pulled to a halt inches from her.

A door opened and slammed.

"Are you all right, Miss?" That voice was familiar. A hint of a British accent...

Sebastian hovered above Rose, concern etched across his face. She stood back in disbelief. Of all the people to come to her rescue!

"Rose? What are you doing out in this weather?"

For a moment, embarrassment took the place of her fear. "I should ask the same of you," she replied coolly.

He drew back sharply as if he'd been slapped. "I was headed to the Geisels'. I had an emergency and couldn't join the tour. Are you on your way there? I can drive you." He put out a hand to assist Rose to her feet.

"There's no one there," she said quickly.

"I know. I have a key. Fritz left me some notes--" He frowned. "Wait a minute. Why are you here?"

Rose avoided his probing eyes, pretending to brush snow from her coat. "I--I was looking for Angelica. I thought she was here, but she isn't."

"She's supposed to be at school, and so are you, incidentally." Rose turned away from him, terrified that he could read the truth in her face. She was too late. "Rose, is something the matter?"

She had only a split second to make a decision, and there was really only one she could make. She drew in a breath.

"I need a ride," she said, her words tumbling out of her mouth faster than she could think them. "Please, don't ask questions. This is a life-or-death situation."

Sebastian looked alarmed for a moment, but recovered. "Where do you need to go?"

He obeyed Rose's wishes and drove in silence; speaking only to ask for directions. She was amazed at how skillfully he navigated the unplowed streets and avenues. They eventually arrived at a two-family townhouse on W. 18th St. in Chelsea. Rose asked Sebastian to wait in the auto and rushed through the wrought-iron gate to the front door.

Gabriel was stunned, to say the least, to find a shivering Rose on his doorstep. But he welcomed her enthusiastically.

"Long time no see, girlie!" he cried, ushering her into the newlyweds' living room. "Meggie will be so surprised!"

"Surprised at what?" Meg appeared in the doorway, looking the part of the perfect housewife with an apron tied around her waist and a scarf securing her hair. "Rose!" she gasped. "My goodness, what brings you here in this--Rose?"

Rose was unaware that she was crying until Meg gathered her in a tight embrace. Gabriel, uncomfortable, excused himself on some pretext or another.

Meg attempted to lead Rose over to the sofa so they could sit and chat, but Rose bluntly pointed out that she was in a hurry. And then, without going into details, she made her request.

Meg stared at her as if she'd gone mad. For several seconds she didn't speak, but as Rose hastened to explain, her face reddened and her eyes narrowed.

"Do you know what yer asking me to do?" she demanded. "I could lose me job!"

"No one will ever find out," Rose promised, but Meg was unconvinced.

"Sure, and you probably thought that before ya had to come'n get me, eh?" She started wiping flour from her hands onto her apron, and at that moment Rose knew she would help.

"So tell me, which one of 'em is it, the spoiled actress or the women's rights crusader?"

"Neither," Rose said. "It's Charlotte."

Meg stopped in her tracks and gaped at Rose. "Y'don't say? Oh, my."

She was silent the entire trip to the Geisel boarding house, save for a terse hello when Rose introduced her to Sebastian, but was all brisk efficiency once they arrived at the house. She carried a medical bag to the rear bedroom and ordered Vera and Angelica out. Then she pulled back the blanket that covered Charlotte and gently began her examination. Rose saw her pause briefly to make a sign of the cross.

"The bleeding has stopped, but she's still breathin', " Meg said for Rose's benefit. "Dontcha worry."

Rose backed into the hallway and closed the door. She found the others in the kitchen, where Angelica had put a tea kettle on to boil and was now crying on Sebastian's shoulder. Rose slid discreetly into a chair at the small table beside Vera and squeezed her hand.

"She'll save her," she whispered. "She saved my life, once."

Vera nodded mutely and went back to staring into her empty teacup.

No one was in a talkative mood, so after drinking her tea, Rose returned to the window seat in the parlor and watched the snow.

When she awoke it was dusk--or so it appeared. The gray skies made it seem later than it actually was. Someone had thought to cover her with a beautiful patchwork quilt. A similar quilt was draped over Angelica, who dozed on a divan nearby. Meg and Vera were having a hushed conference in the doorway.

Meg saw Rose sitting up and came rushing over. The smile on her face said everything.

"Charlotte's awake," she said, and Rose began to cry.

"There, there," Meg soothed. "The damage wasn't severe as I'd thought, but she'll still be needin' a doctor. She could have an infection." She read the question in Rose's eyes. "Yes, she'll have to tell the doctor who that butcher was. But I gave her a name of someone I work with at the hospital. I'll see to it they go easy on 'er, poor thing."

Sebastian waited in the front entryway to drive Meg home. She gave reassuring hugs first to Vera, who then returned to check on Charlotte, then to Rose.

"Thank you," Rose whispered. "For saving our lives."

"Oh, 'twasn't as much as all that." Meg modestly waved away the praise. "I'm just sorry I said what I did about yer friends. They have good hearts."

When she'd departed Vera reappeared and told Rose that Charlotte was asking for her. Rose found her lying propped up against the headboard, eyes turned to the window.

"It'll be over soon, you know," she said. "The blizzard."

"I hope so." Rose hovered in the doorway for a second or two more, then moved hesitantly to the bedside and lowered herself into the rocking chair.

Charlotte smiled weakly. "Meg told me you went out in the storm to find her. How can I ever repay you?"

"You can start by getting well."

A gust of wind rattled the windowpanes. Charlotte pulled the covers tight around her, for warmth or for protection Rose couldn't tell.

"He had me...on a table...in the kitchen," she whispered. "It was dirty--and cold. He dropped me off three blocks from here...and said if I told the police he would..."

She burst into tears and Rose grabbed her, held her and didn't let go until the crying spell subsided. Charlotte wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

"You must think me awfully stupid, to end up in such a state."

"No, not at all."

"He said he loved me." Charlotte’s voice was bitter. "That's why I let him. And it wasn't always the way you hear it is, all fun and romance...oh, I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin it for you."

Rose blushed. "It's all right. I'm not a virgin."

She didn't know what prompted her to confess, but once she did, she knew she didn't make a mistake. Charlotte relaxed visibly.

"Well, I trust your experiences were better than mine."

Rose looked away. "It was only once. But it was special, yes."

"Then your love was worth a million Arthurs." Charlotte fell silent again, and stared at her hands. Finally she spoke again. "Rose, do you think I'm a bad person?"

"No! Charlotte, you must never think such a thing."

"Meg said I may never have children." Charlotte's lower lip trembled. "And the doctor, he might still turn me in to the police--"

Rose spoke carefully. "I've known Meg for almost three years. She's a woman of her word. You have nothing to fear from that doctor."

"He could tell my parents." Charlotte's eyes suddenly widened in fear. "My father didn't like Arthur; he said he was insolent and he had to go to the military academy to learn discipline. He forbade me to see him and he can't know about this."

No amount of reassurances would calm Charlotte after this point. When she did eventually fall asleep, the others took turns keeping vigil over her.

The following morning, the howling wind had subsided to a breeze and all over the neighborhood people were trudging outside into drifts of up to two feet. Rose volunteered to prepare a hot breakfast while Angelica and Vera straightened up the parlor. The troupe was expected back that afternoon, and Sebastian had promised to return to shovel the front walk.

Rose sensed Charlotte's presence before she heard her cough. She was aghast to find her fully dressed, the small suitcase she'd packed for the trip to New York in her hand.

"Charlotte! Get back in bed this instant!"

Charlotte didn't budge. "I'm sorry, Rose. I just wanted to say good-bye before--"

"Before what? Where are you going?"

"Please, I want to leave before Vera and Angelica see me." Charlotte's expression was pained. "They'll talk me into changing my mind and I can't let them."

In the suitcase were a substantial amount of cash and a few pieces of fine jewelry, in case she needed money. She had secretly phoned for a taxi to the hospital, and after she'd seen the doctor, she said, she would contact an aunt in Virginia. That aunt was well aware of her father's violent temper, and would welcome Charlotte into her home.

"I'll write," she promised, giving Rose a quick hug. "Tell Vera and Angelica I love them, and I will be back. But not till I'm stronger."

Vera was upset, and Angelica confused, when Rose gave them the news. Even more upset and confused, however, were Miss Henderson and university officials, who, under intense pressure from Charles Reynolds to locate his daughter, grilled her three closest friends repeatedly. The girls feigned ignorance and suddenly, they were left alone. They'd learn later that Charlotte had called her parents, and, without divulging her whereabouts, convinced them she was alive and well.

As for Charlotte, she would come back to campus the following fall, only now she went to Virginia for holidays. She ate healthily and her grades were higher than ever, but whenever it snowed her eyes grew sad.

Chapter Thirty-One
Stories