A TWIST OF FATE
Chapter Thirty-One
Rose sat in the garden trying to read the
book before her, but she couldn't concentrate. She had been in Pittsburgh for a
week and it was making her ill, literally. She detested the dirt, the grime,
which belched out from the chimneys and tainted the air and buildings. She also
detested Cal's parents. Lucy Hockley was a petite, well-dressed woman with
upswept graying blonde hair. As a millionaire's wife she enjoyed being at the
very center of society, a position Ruth Dewitt Bukater was always denied. She
attended many charity functions, although Rose was never sure whether it was
for the good cause or her social standing, although she suspected the latter.
Lucy had insisted on dragging Rose along to every garden party imaginable to
show off Caledon's wife. So far she had been introduced only as "my son
Caledon's wife" to everyone and was beginning to think she didn't have an
identity of her own. Cal's father was like Cal, a tall, dark eyed man, very much
a gentleman with dark hair flecked
with gray, the image of an older Cal. This time Rose had seen a big change in
him. He looked gaunt, coughed a lot and relied heavily on a stick to support
him. The doctor had advised total rest, but he carried the stubborn Hockley
streak and made the most of his time with Cal. Rose would normally not mind
this, if it hadn't left her to the mercy of Lucy.
Rose tried to hide how wretched she felt as best she could. Cal would only
accuse her of acting or being ill deliberately, as if it were possible. The air
was foul, Rose decided and being stuffed like a fattened calf all the time was
not good for the stomach. Not that she felt hungry. She would politely nibble
at the food before her, then make her excuses to go to the bathroom and bring
it all back again.
Today she was lucky. Lucy had an appointment in town and Rose managed to
wriggle out of going with her. She desperately wanted some time alone. She
chose a book from the Hockley library and seated herself in the sun to read. The
Hockley mansion was not built without careful thought and faced away from the
factory pollution, so the business of entertaining in the garden would never be
spoiled. But, she couldn't concentrate. She found herself watching the birds
and butterflies and wishing she too were free to take off and escape the
confines of the garden walls.
Rose closed the book and knowing no-one was watching or would make some comment
on her posture, she drew her knees up and hugged them. It was a very unladylike
position, as her mother had pointed out many times. But it was something that
she did as a child, something that her father didn't object to and it was now
something that comforted her if she felt unwell.
Her mind turned to Jack. She had sent him a short letter on her arrival, to
thank him for her paintings, to say she would be out of town for a few weeks
and that she was sorry she had missed him the day she left. Trudy had posted it
for her.
Where had he been that day? Rose puzzled. She had really wanted to see him that
one last time and had found she missed him whilst she had been away. Never
mind, we will soon be going back to Philadelphia, she told herself. Not soon
enough.
What was she going to do about Jack? He was going to New York for his friends
wedding in about three weeks. Was it possible that she could leave Cal by then
and go with him? No Rose, that is crazy talk, she chided herself. It's just a
fanciful dream. You are a Hockley now; you can never go back.
Trudy walked out into the garden to find Rose. She was concerned that her
mistress was not well. She had noticed how pale Rose looked, even if no one
else did. And although Rose had denied it, she knew there was something wrong.
"Excuse me Miss, I was going on an errand to the shops. Would you like anything?"
Rose slowly uncurled herself. "Oh Trudy, please may I come with you? I am
so bored, I need to get away from this house for a while" she lowered her
voice "and you know I cannot get away when the Hockley's are here."
Trudy smiled. "I'd be honored if you accompanied me Miss Rose. It'd be
just like the old days!"
She extended a hand to help her mistress up and they went into the house to
collect shawls and purses. A trip out alone was a rare treat for Rose.
They headed down the road away from the big houses towards where the shops
were. As they turned the corner, they were surprised to be faced with a small
crowd of people and a commotion. Rose, ever curious, insisted they went to see
what was wrong.
There had been an accident of some kind. There was a motor car with a broken
light and a cart with a broken wheel. The cart had tipped slightly and some of
its contents lay in the road with broken glass and shattered wood. A young boy
was holding the horse which appeared unhurt, but two men, one the smartly
dressed owner of the car and the other obviously the cart driver, were having a
terrible argument in the middle of the road, almost coming to blows. The crowd
watched eager for the fight. Amongst all this, a small child sat beside the
cart crying. Her clothes were dirty and ragged; her knees were cut and
bleeding. And more amazing to Rose was that no one seemed even slightly
interested in the crying girl.
"Come on Miss Rose, there is nothing to see here" insisted Trudy
trying to lead Rose away.
"But the poor child" pointed Rose. "How come no one is looking
after her" Before Trudy could answer the crowd gasped and backed slightly.
The cart owner had punched the car owner and they were squaring up for another
blow.
"How come no one is doing anything?" Rose protested. Another punch
flew. The startled horse neighed loudly and fought the young boy for the
control of the reins. The thing was starting to turn into something nasty.
Rose could watch no more. She pushed forward through the crowd and went over to
the little girl. To Trudy's horror, she picked the child up. The little girl
clung tightly to Rose and sniffed, little tears on her cheeks. The car owner,
with a bloody nose rounded on Rose.
"What do you think you are doing Miss?"
"I am removing this child" Rose spat angrily. "How could you
behave like in front of her. Can you not see she is terrified?"
The cart owner, also ruffled turned to Rose too. He pointed a finger.
"It's her fault. She ran into the road."
The crowd looked at Rose too.
"I don't care whose fault it was, she is only a child." Trudy
appeared at her side. "Come Trudy." And she began to walk away. The
cart driver caught her arm.
"You ain't going no where with 'er."
Rose stopped in tracks, her temper rising. Holding the child tightly, she
turned to face the man, eyes blazing.
"Take your hand off me, sir. Do you know who I am?"
The cart owner looked like he knew not and cared not and smiled sarcastically.
"So who are you Miss?"
"I am Mrs. Caledon Hockley, of Hockley Steel."
The smile wiped quickly off the cart owner's face and the crowd murmured.
Hockley Steel was Pittsburgh's biggest employer. Most people knew the name of
Nathan and Caledon.
"Now, excuse us" demanded Rose and walked away with the child.