“Robert had a good time. He likes you.”
“I don’t care what he likes!”
“I do,” Klaudio said, raising his eyebrows. He slid open a drawer in the table beside the bed, took out a box, and opened the lid. The currency inside the box, mostly coins, was more money than Elizabeth had ever seen in one place.
She was confused—why would he count money in the middle of their conversation?
“Hold out your hands,” he said. When she did, he dumped into them numerous silver and bronze coins. She could barely hold them all. Roughly counting the skilling and öre, she decided there was enough to make six riksdalers, an amount equal to half a week’s wages at a menial job.
“This is what you earned for your trouble. I hope it’s enough.” He seemed genuinely concerned.
Elizabeth grimaced and folded her fingers over the handful of coins, already thinking about how she might spend them. Her anger toward Klaudio turned on her with a shaming accusation: Whore! Holding her hands out before her to avoid the money’s contaminating influence, yet unwilling to drop the coins, Elizabeth backed away and left the room with her head bowed. Once out of Klaudio’s presence, she dumped the money into a pocket in her top skirt. She fled down the stairs and left the house to return to Fru Andersdotter and belatedly prepare the old woman’s early meal. She had a lie prepared about missing a ferry across the river and having to spend the night at the home of one of Klaudio’s female cousins.
Chapter 5: Providence
Fru Andersdotter lay dead on the kitchen floor in her stained nightclothes. The old woman that had been Elizabeth’s friend was gone.
The fires had gone out. In the January chill, the air in the house had become frigid, perhaps near to freezing. Hortense’s face and chest were warm, her hands cold.
Elizabeth sat heavily on the floor beside the old woman and leaned back against the peeling wall. Coins spilled out of the pocket of her skirt and some rolled across the hardwood floor. She was in no hurry to put them back. Tears ran down her cheeks and into her blouse as she took the old woman’s crooked hand in her own. She looked at Hortense, not knowing what to do.
I’ve failed her when she needed me most. No, I’ve killed her. I might as well have cut her throat.
She knew she would be blamed. To keep from suffering that blame, a remedy immediately came to mind: She would flee to London, where she might be lost among the multitudes. But, then, she hadn’t the funds to book passage.
If I’d listened to Liza, I might have left Klaudio last night and been here to help.
You’d have only stood in Fru Andersdotter’s way, Bess said. She got her wish. She’s gone to heaven to be with her husband before the money ran out.
The old woman was miserable and at death’s door, Liza said, and none of it was going to get any better. At least her suffering is at an end. Perhaps she left something for you in her will. Look through the house to see if you can find stray coins.
Inconsolable, Elizabeth paid little attention to the voices. She hung her head and cried for Hortense and for herself.
Time passed and the house grew colder. Elizabeth could not sit on the floor forever. She would have to go home.
No, there’s nothing for me there. Caspar and Svein will eventually have the farm. It’s already too small for one family. They won’t want me there anymore than Father does.
When she’d run out of tears, Elizabeth picked up her coins and stood. “I am a prostitute and a drunk,” she said aloud as if confessing it to her dead friend, “and, soon, I’ll be homeless. I must change before it’s too late.”
She felt the coins in her pocket, and considered giving them back to Klaudio.
No, she would need the money until she could find respectable work.
She had to tell someone of Fru Andersdotter’s death.
Before you do, Liza said, warm up the house so no one will know you were gone.
Elizabeth took Liza’s advice and started fires in the kitchen stove and in the fireplace in Hortense’s bedroom. Then, going through the documents among the old woman’s possessions, she found the name and address of the solicitor who managed the estate. Elizabeth donned her coat and a wool bonnet and set out through a cold, biting wind to visit the law office of Herr Roderick Rikhardsson. On the way, She stumbled over uneven cobblestones and fell, skinning her left knee. Mischievous boys, standing behind a short stone wall in a solemn neighborhood of dark brick houses, hurled rotten potatoes at her and laughed. She ran on to get away from them. The world had turned against her, Elizabeth decided, and she must work hard to redeem herself.
Even so, with Liza making suggestions, Elizabeth had a lie prepared in case the solicitor questioned her, one about waking up to find Hortense dead.
By mid-afternoon, at the end of a three and a half mile walk, she came to a small converted storefront. The place was less substantial than she’d expected. She checked the address on the card she’d brought with her before going in. Inside, no clerk greeted her, only cabinets along the walls and a desk in the center of the room stacked high with documents. As she approached the bureau, she heard a shuffling sound, then a man’s head became visible as he stood up behind the stacks of paper. Since he appeared to have no clerk, Elizabeth felt lucky he’d been available to receive her.
An elderly gentleman, Herr Rikhardsson had white hair and colorless eyes that looked sore. He wore spectacles and a rumpled suit. Following a brief introduction, Elizabeth found herself crying again as she told of Fru Andersdotter’s death. “She had been coughing and complaining of chest pains,” she lied, even though Herr Rikhardsson had shown no skepticism about her tale. The lie merely increased her shame, and Elizabeth’s sobbing became so uncontrollable that she could not go on with her story. She couldn’t decide whether her tears were for the old woman or for herself.
Herr Rikhardsson helped her into a chair beside his desk. “I’m sorry to hear of it,” he said. “She was a fine woman. When she was young, she went with our soldiers in their fight to enforce the Treaty of Kiel. She was a nurse, and Herr Rembert Bjorkman was a soldier she treated for a chest wound. She nursed him back to health, and then decided to keep him.” Herr Rikhardsson pulled up a chair of his own, and sat, looking thoughtful. “That was long ago.”
The old woman had never said much about her past. Elizabeth wished she’d shown more interest.
“You say you are Elizabeth Gustavsdotter. Do I understand, then, that you are the daughter of Beata Carlsdotter?”
“Yes.”
“Hortense—” he hesitated. “Excuse me—I mean, Fru Andersdotter—she said you were coming.”
“I’ve been here nearly four months.”
“Your great-grandmother on your mother’s side was her childhood friend.”
He seemed to know much about the old woman. “If you knew her so well,” Elizabeth asked with a sharp edge in her voice, “why didn’t you help her?”
Herr Rikhardsson shook his head and looked down, an expression of hurt on his face.
She hung her head as well—with what she’d done to Hortense, Elizabeth had no right to criticize another’s treatment of the old woman. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way,” she said.
“No, I understand. You’re upset.”
His kindly response only made matters worse. Elizabeth envied Herr Rikhardsson’s willingness to expect the best in others.
“Fru Andersdotter was too proud to take my help,” he said. “She believed she had nothing to give me in return.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “She was a modest woman.”
“I imagine you don’t know what you’ll do now.”
“I don’t. I can’t go home.”
Herr Rikhardsson smiled tightly. “I have one more thing to give Fru Andersdotter. That is to say that I hope to give it to someone she cared about. I’ve been charged with finding a suitable young woman to take a position as a maid of all work for a gentleman, Herr Frederick-Lars Olovsson and his wife, Fru Joanna Ellstro
msdotter. They have two small sons. Both parents are away from home much of the time. A monthman, he’s gone for thirty days at a time. She’s a personal maid in a fine household, and must stay over frequently. If you would take the position, you’d earn ten riksdalers, twelve skilling, and oneöre per week. There is a nursemaid also with the household. You would room with her in the home.”
Elizabeth hadn’t expect providence to smile upon her in that moment.
I should suffer for what I did to the old woman.
You don’t deserve the opportunity he offers, Liza said, but he doesn’t have to know that. You’re always looking for something better. Well, here it is.
Perhaps this is reward for some good you will do in the future, Bess said.
Elizabeth eagerly accepted what her innocent voice had said. I’ll learn to think of others first. Then, I’ll be able to forgive myself. Indeed, her life wasn’t over, and she would need to find some happiness in the world.
One large fear remained: If she won the house maid position of which Herr Rikhardsson spoke, and then discovered she was pregnant, she’d have to end the pregnancy before it showed or lose the position.
Hopefully, her luck would hold.
“Thank you, Herr Rikhardsson. I would like to be considered for the position.”
Chapter 6: Employment
Frederick-Lars Olovsson had a modest, attractive two story wooden house among residences and shops in the Majorna district, with three bedrooms upstairs, a nursery, parlor, small study, and kitchen downstairs. The lady of the house, Fru Ellstromsdotter, received Elizabeth in a business-like manner, and guided her through the home, explaining what would be expected of her. Thin and pale, the woman had sharp facial features and a mouth that opened crookedly when she spoke. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly and secured at the back of her head with decorative pins.
Elizabeth was shown the room she would share with the nursemaid. The cozy chamber had two beds that looked warm and comfortable.
“As a maid of all work,” Fru Ellstromsdotter said, “you must cook all the meals, serve at mealtimes, change the bed linens, clean the house, haul water and slops, and share in the laundry duties.”
Elizabeth expected the hard work, and felt up to it. She might have wished for an employer with a friendlier personality, however. Fru Ellstromsdotter had not offered a single smile or pleasant sentiment during the tour of the house.
“For the considerable sum offered,” she said, “we expect constancy of service, and a minimum of requested absence. The children are everything to us. Pursuing two incomes as we do, we sacrifice our own presence in their young lives to secure their future and ensure that they have a happy, healthy, and safe home. We’ll be fair with you, but you must accept that you’re our inferior by virtue of the fact that we can afford to employ you. Your needs come after ours. As you must know, God, in his infinite wisdom, has fashioned such tests for all of us. My husband and I ceased to struggle against His will, and expect those within our household to do the same, for none of us are better than our God-given circumstances.”
Elizabeth found Fru Ellstromsdotter words to be extraordinary, especially from one who’s own circumstances were relatively modest. The wages offered for the position were certainly not sufficient to warrant such an attitude. Somehow, Elizabeth could not believe the woman meant what she said.
You should think twice about taking employment within this household, Liza said.
The woman merely expresses herself poorly, Bess said. She will warm with time.
Fru Ellstromsdotter looked Elizabeth in the eye as if awaiting a response. She merely nodded, and the woman tilted her head and widened her eyes as if to say she expected more of an answer.
“Yes, Fru Ellstromsdotter,” Elizabeth said. “I understand.”
“Then it’s settled,” the lady of the house said. “Welcome to our home.”
She guided her new employee into the nursery to introduce the nursemaid and her children.
“These are my boys, Otto and Johan, one and two years of age respectively.” Finally, Fru Ellstromsdotter smiled as she watched her boys. “And this is their nursemaid, Fru Leena Jensson.”
The nursemaid, engaged in dressing the children, paused, stood, and smiled for Elizabeth. Fru Jensson was small and blonde, with a weak chin that took away little of her fragile beauty. The two pale boys had dark hair and green eyes. Despite having no wings, they looked like the cute cherubs she’d seen once in a painting.
“I’ll leave you to become acquainted,” the lady of the house said. “Fru Gustavsdotter, come to me in the kitchen in half an hour.”
“Thank you, Fru Ellstromsdotter.”
Once the lady of the house had left, Fru Jensson sat and resumed dressing the children. She spoke to them as she did so, giving instructions. The words were obviously meant as encouragement and were delivered with a heavy dose of baby talk.
“Can you tell me something about Fru Ellstromsdotter and Herr Olovsson?” Elizabeth asked.
“The gentleman was a military officer and later a policeman,” Fru Jensson said. She paused for a moment, then whispered in Johan’s little face. “He’s not a bad sort.”
Johan giggled and Elizabeth smiled.
“He’s highly trusted and respected in his dealings with large groups of men,” Fru Jensson continued, “and is hired a month at a time to oversee laborers. The work takes him away from home much of the time. When he’s home, he keeps to himself, and would prefer not to talk to those in service.”
Her words were clearly spoken, although delivered with the same affected happy cadence used in her baby talk. Elizabeth assumed Leena spoke that way for the benefit of the children who could not understand, but would respond positively to the tone.
“Fru Ellstromsdotter is a personal maid in the service of a noble family. She’s home Sundays, and much of each Monday. She works the rest of the days of the week, being frequently gone through the night.”
Again, she paused for a moment, then whispered. “I’ve found, Ewisabet, that it’s best to keep my opinions to myself while around her.” The woman’s baby talk didn’t let up.
“My name is Elizabeth,” Elizabeth said humbly.
“Yes, I understand.” Fru Jensson went on with her task.
Eventually, Elizabeth left her to go to the kitchen. As she passed by the study, she saw a gentleman within, sitting with a book in his lap. Elizabeth bowed her head slightly and intended to continue on to the kitchen, allowing privacy to the one she presumed to be the master of the house, but he glanced at her and smiled. “Fru Ellstromsdotter had to step out for a moment,” he said. “I am Herr Olovsson. Please come in.”
You are already in trouble, Liza said.
Elizabeth entered and stood with her gaze fixed on the hardwood floor, unable to find her voice.
At least fifty years old, the gentleman had a head of grey hair, a strong jaw and bright blue eyes set within a face clearly capable of appearing stern and commanding. Glancing up at him, Elizabeth decided he had a friendly smile. “Good evening, Herr Olovsson,” she said at last.
“Welcome to our home. I understand that you come to us from Fru Andersdotter by way of my friend, Herr Rikhardsson.”
“Y-yes, Herr Olovsson.” Elizabeth stammered, surprised to hear that he knew of the sweet, old woman.
“My father fought along side Herr Bjorkman, Fru Andersdotter’s husband, at Lier in the Swedish-Norwegian war. He knew Fru Andersdotter quite well. We’ll do our best to take care of you.”
Again, Elizabeth wondered, if the old woman was so important, why more was not done to help her in her old age. She remembered that Herr Rikhardsson had suggested the woman’s pride stood in the way.
People say nice things to impress others, Liza said. They often don’t mean them.
Her Olovsson is a good man, Bess said. He’s the sort who will look after you when you truly need help.
“Thank you, Herr Olovsson.”
“My wife knows noth
ing of how you came to us, and I will refrain from speaking to you in her presence, as I do with Fru Jensson. Please don’t take offense from that. Fru Ellstromsdotter is a jealous woman. She had a hard life in her younger days and suffers the need to know just what belongs to her.”
“I understand, Herr Olovsson,” Elizabeth said. Concerning the demeanor of the woman of the house, however, she truly didn’t understand—not yet.
~ ~ ~
As agreed, Elizabeth cooked, cleaned, kept the house, and helped with the laundry. Fru Ellstromsdotter did the shopping at market for their food on her way home from her work on Mondays. Two weeks into her new employment, Elizabeth gratefully endured the discomfort that came with her monthly flow, and felt much relieved to think that an unwanted pregnancy would not jeopardize her precious domestic servant position. She held warm feelings toward the children currently in her life, yet was glad she had no long-term responsibility toward them. During the long absences of both Herr Olovsson and Fru Ellstromsdotter, she worried that Otto and Johan would grow up not knowing their own parents. Despite the difficulties Elizabeth had with her own family members, she admitted to herself that she missed them.
The thought prompted her to begin the practice of writing to her mother once a week. She wrote of her experiences in Gothenburg, of her new position, and of the Olovsson family. She also told of the death of Fru Andersdotter, but Elizabeth conveyed nothing of her own activities during the incident. She received an answer perhaps once a month. Her mother’s words, although not expressive, conjured images of home that surprisingly warmed Elizabeth’s heart.
Living in Herr Olovsson’s home was pleasant, if uneventful. Elizabeth gratefully remained warm and well-fed through the winter. By spring, the familiar restlessness had returned. Remembering the troubles boredom had brought her in the past, she did her best to find happiness in her work. She stayed well away from alcoholic drinks.
Since her wages were small and she had little time to herself, Elizabeth spent few of her earnings on the occasions she went to market or browsed through shops in Gothenburg. As her funds accumulated, she decided that if she continued to save them, she would one day have enough to book passage to London. Whether she would merely visit the English capital or start a new life there was uncertain. She had no desire to stay in Gothenburg. Dirty and over-crowded with the poor, most working low-wage industrial jobs or begging on the streets, the metropolis held little charm. Crime abounded. Those who earned a good wage were angry and in too much of a hurry.
Jack the Ripper Victims Series: The Double Event Page 4