The Address(46)

Sara’s stomach was still queasy and the Washington pie discussion hadn’t helped matters, even after she’d taken an extra swig from the bottle of Dr. Walker’s Vinegar Bitters. The prettiness of the sea-blue glass belied the nasty taste of the liquid, but Mrs. Haines, who’d recommended it after inquiring after Sara’s health a week ago, had sworn the elixir would settle her indigestion. Sara took a dose every day, eager for anything to reduce the nausea.

Since that awful moment on the El, Sara had steered her thoughts away from the possibility that she was with child. The weather had turned brutal; everyone on staff was catching some kind of bug or other. That had to be the reason for her illness, her recent weakness.

“Here are the day’s receipts for your signature, Mrs. Smythe.” Daisy dropped them on her desk and stood waiting in silence as Sara signed each one.

Mr. Douglas had denied Sara’s request for Daisy’s pay raise, and only given her one extra day off a month, much to Sara’s chagrin. She felt terrible about having raised the girl’s hopes and had tolerated her sulkiness in the three weeks since her mother had passed. Yet so far the worst hadn’t happened, and the family were all still ensconced in the tenement apartment on the East Side.

When Sara handed the receipts back, she noticed Daisy was carrying a bucket with a cloth draped over the top.

“Daisy, what’s that?”

But before Daisy could answer, the rancid odor of fish hit Sara’s nostrils. Without warning, the toast Sara had eaten for breakfast threatened to come up, and she gestured for Daisy to shut the door fast. The girl was quick on her feet, and with a mix of relief and horror, Sara vomited into the wastepaper basket by her desk. She lowered herself to the floor, her back against the cabinets.

“God, oh God.” The only words that would come out of her mouth. She was ruined, completely ruined.

Daisy was by her side, handing her a handkerchief. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the bucket of fish. Put it outside.”

Daisy did as she was told, closing the door softly before kneeling down beside Sara. “Fitzroy asked me to bring it down to the cook. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

“Are you ill?”

“No. Well, I don’t know.”

Daisy hesitated before responding. “Don’t worry, you’ll be all right. I’ve seen it before.”

Sara looked up in panic. Daisy knew.

“I won’t tell. My mother had the same symptoms with every child.” She gave a solemn nod. “Your secret’s safe with me. You were so good to me when my mother died, I want to help you.”

Daisy’s eyes were wide, encouraging. Although just a girl, she’d seen so much of babies being born, and of death. Sara’s life so far had been void of any close relationships, save Theo, and for a minute she envied the girl her worldly knowledge. Would it be wrong to open up to her? “You’re a child, Daisy, you don’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of my terrible deed.”

“It’s Mr. Camden, isn’t it?”

Sara put the handkerchief to her lips, trying to keep her stare blank.

“I noticed the way he looks at you. He loves you.” They’d spent so much time together, of course the girl knew. Sara had been stupid to think she could keep it hidden.

“He’s married.”

“But now you’re carrying his baby.” Daisy sighed.

The girl was caught up in the romance of it. “He can’t ever know.” Sara clutched Daisy’s wrist. “You can’t tell him.”

“Of course I won’t.” Her words rang true and released in Sara a flood of unspoken fears.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t have a child. I’ll lose everything.”

“I know someone who can help. Downtown, there’s a woman who knows what to do.”

Sara had heard of such things, of course. She also knew they were terribly dangerous and didn’t always work. But her job was on the line; she would be fired if she got too far along.

“How would it work?”

Daisy patted her hand. “I’ll ask about her and let you know.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do.”

“Of course it is. What other choice do you have?”

The door of the office flew open and Mrs. Haines’s sour face glared down at them. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“I had dropped a pen, and Daisy was helping me find it,” said Sara. They got up, and for a moment Sara thought she might swoon. She planted herself in her chair. “Can I help you?”

“I have more applications for apartments. They keep coming in, even if there is no room.” She placed the envelopes on the desk. “You look peaked. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Haines.”

Once Mrs. Haines had left, Daisy put her fingers to her lips. “Not a soul, I promise.”

“Do you think Mrs. Haines heard what we were talking about?”

“Not unless she pressed her ear against the door, and I doubt she’d stoop that low.”

The woman was always sneaking around, appearing right when Sara least expected her. She had a stealthiness to her so that even her skirts didn’t swish when she walked.