Chapter 117
<117> Working Women (3)
She and herself were similar. Neither had married, and both had received exceptionally high levels of education for women. But their lives had been completely different. Even if she had inherited 200,000 pounds at the age of 18, she would never have considered sailing to Africa.
Voyages. Adventures. Challenges.
Her nature was far from such things. She wanted freedom, but that was just another expression of her desire to find an environment where she could live with respect.
Laura had certainly realized that while working as a governess.
What she wanted was to do valuable work in a quiet place. To use her abilities in the right place and, in return, to receive appropriate respect and affection.
Perhaps if she had inherited 200,000 pounds, she would have built a school in a quiet country village. She would have spent her days exercising, reading books, and singing songs with the children there. And she would not have had the slightest dissatisfaction with that life.
If Miss Rotis was a flame, she was water, a small stream flowing through a quiet valley.
And Laura didn't dislike that about herself.
'It's good to get older. It becomes easier to accept myself. And my mind becomes more at ease.'
Laura flowed through the crowds of Bath like a stream. And soon, she found a place in this complex city that would give her soul peace and stability. It was a bookstore.
Laura went straight inside. As soon as she entered, the smell of paper rushed into her nose.
She strolled slowly between the bookshelves. Her heart was soon pleasantly lifted. At the same time, an academic fervor arose, no less than the passion Miss Rotis possessed.
She went to the foreign language section and chose a Greek original of one of Plato's complete works. Then, from the German section, she picked up a book by the philosopher Nietzsche.
Laura's heart fluttered as she held the books in her arms. She wanted to go back to her hotel room as soon as possible, sit at the beautiful rosewood desk, and devour each sentence thoroughly.
She hummed softly as she went to the checkout counter. But the clerk, noticing the dust on the Plato collection, offered to replace it with a clean copy and went to the warehouse. Laura waited, wondering if the owner of this bookstore was a reckless businessman who piled up Plato's originals in the city of pleasure, Bath.
The clerk returned with a very troubled expression. There was no stock. Of course not. Who would read Plato after coming all the way to Bath? Laura, thinking that she would be helping to clear one of this bookstore's troublesome inventories, asked the clerk.
"Please wipe it once and then wrap it."
The clerk began to wipe the book with a neat hand.
To pass the time, Laura walked to the glass window facing the street. There, newspapers, magazines, and guidebooks introducing Bath's restaurants were piled up. She picked up a few magazines and flipped through them quickly, but soon lost interest and put them down.
She shifted her gaze to the street scene.
A luxuriously dressed noblewoman pushing a stroller. An old gentleman walking with a cane and a young woman dressed to the nines who seemed to be his lover. A gentleman walking with a swagger, his hair styled in a sophisticated manner as if it had cost a lot of money. Young ladies from the nouveau riche, imitating the fashions of the nobles in a clumsy manner, giggling as they walked.
Laura watched the colorful faces of the passersby with a bored gaze.
But, suddenly, Laura's indifferent eyes changed.
A man was passing in front of the bookstore. His unhurried, leisurely pace allowed her to see his profile well. Red curly hair hanging down under a top hat. Tanned skin and a tall, stylish figure.
"Ah...!"
Laura turned her body sharply towards the counter. In case that person might have spotted her too.
"Madam, is there any problem...?"
The clerk looked at Laura and asked with a worried voice. Laura shook her head.
She turned and walked slowly towards the entrance. The desire not to run into him suddenly turned into a desire to confirm his identity. Perhaps both were emotions born of fear.
She opened the shop door and looked in the direction the man had gone. But he had disappeared into the crowd.
Laura staggered and then her knees buckled and she sank down. The clerk came out of the store and supported Laura.
"Are you alright? Oh my, your face has turned as white as a sheet!"
But Laura couldn't hear anything. She stared blankly in the direction the man had disappeared, and asked inwardly.
'John, why are you here?'
* * *
Immediately after seeing John Ashton through the bookstore's glass window, Laura fell into great confusion. It had been 12 years. The man she had once loved, pitied, and staked her future on. The man she had caressed hands and kissed for hours on moonlit, secret terraces.
That man was staying in the same city as her.
Laura felt a chill run down her spine. Bath was not a big city. It was entirely possible to run into him. If that happened...
'It's terrible just to imagine it.'
That evening, Laura packed her bags immediately and waited for the two ladies to vacate the hotel. She couldn't leave without saying goodbye. But the ladies didn't return until midnight, and Laura dozed off on the sofa and ended up falling asleep.
When she opened her eyes, it was morning. A thick blanket was covering her body.
A note was placed on the table in front of the sofa. Judging by the handwriting, it was written by Miss Hyde.
'We stayed out late and didn't get back until dawn. Were you worried about us? Sorry. We'll let you know in advance if we're going to be late in the future. We've ordered room service for Miss Pendleton for breakfast. We'll probably sleep until noon. Enjoy your meal.'
Soon, room service arrived. Scrambled eggs, crispy-skinned chicken, hot scones, tea, and fruit salad.
Laura stared blankly at the food and poured herself only the tea that came with it. As the warm tea entered her body, Laura came to her senses a little.
After a night, and with the help of the tea, her head cleared, Laura regained her usual detachment. Then, naturally, this thought came to her mind.
'Was that person really John Ashton?'
She had no portrait or photograph of him. Only a rough impression remained in her memory.
'If I had looked at his portrait every day for 12 years and longed for him, I would have recognized him at once. But I only thought of him very occasionally. Sometimes I wondered, sometimes I resented... Did I recognize him at a glance like this?'
Laura shook her head. It couldn't be. It was much more likely that she had mistaken a gentleman with a similar impression for him.
Laura felt much better, and then she noticed the other foods that the servant had left behind. She began to eat calmly.
The meal was over. She felt energized after filling her stomach with food. Then yesterday's chaotic feelings felt foolish.
'Even if he is John Ashton, I have no reason to leave Bath. He's the one who betrayed me. If I happen to run into him, it's an opportunity. I'll be able to ask him why he betrayed me.'
Laura came to the conclusion that it would be foolish to give up the opportunity to stay in such a nice accommodation with a dear friend she had met after a long time and a school senior who was kind to her, just because of a chance encounter with an old love (who she wasn't even sure was the real person). She unpacked her bags before the two ladies woke up.
Miss Rotis woke up sometime after noon, around 2 p.m.
Laura was drinking tea on the living room sofa, reading the German original of Thus Spoke Zarathustra that she had bought yesterday. Miss Rotis gave Laura a brief nod and rang the bell. When the servant came, she ordered toast and coffee.
"You always have coffee for breakfast."
Miss Rotis smiled lightly.
"I'm a former coffee farmer."
Soon, room service arrived. Miss Rotis read the newspaper and drank coffee with half a piece of untoasted toast. Then, with Laura's permission, she began to smoke a cigar. Laura continued to read her book during that time.
"Your German is good."
Laura looked up. Miss Rotis was looking at the cover of the book Laura was reading, with a cigar between her fingers. The black pupils in her cat-like eyes sparkled as black as obsidian.
"I like studying languages. It would be a waste to forget what I worked so hard to learn at school."
"I've forgotten almost everything. Not just German, but French, piano, waltz steps. It seems like the expensive tuition at Grant School for Girls was a waste."
She inhaled the cigar. Smoke flowed from between her lips. Laura stared blankly at the sight. Miss Rotis, with her black hair loose and smoking, was captivating.
"But Headmistress Grant would be more proud of Miss Rotis than me. You've become a bestselling author who's making a name for herself in England."
Miss Rotis raised the corners of her mouth slightly.
"Yes, Headmistress Grant wanted women to go out into the world."
"She always encouraged us to have ambition and vision. She was a respectable person."
Miss Rotis brushed the long strands of hair that hung down her shoulders back and changed the subject.
"Are you satisfied with your job as a governess?"
"Yes. I was lucky enough to get a great position."
"'A great position.' Are you used to being ignored and mistreated?"
"No. It's a really good position. The salary and treatment are on par with a tutor."
Miss Rotis was agitated for the first time.
"You're really lucky. Nowhere in England treats a female governess like that."
Laura smiled ambiguously. The 'great position' she had obtained was an unrealistic condition created by a man who was infatuated with her.
"That's right. There's no such condition anywhere in the world. If I'm no longer needed in the house where I'm working now, I'll have to mortgage my life for 50 pounds like other governesses."
"It's good that you know the reality. I thought you were unreasonably optimistic about the job of governess because you got a good job for your first job."
Miss Rotis tapped the ash clinging to the end of her cigar into the ashtray.
"Women who come out into the job market as governesses have to sell their learned knowledge at a bargain price. If I were you, I'd rather be a robber than a governess."
Laura felt a little embarrassed. Miss Rotis's words were realistic, but they were rude to say in front of someone who was working as a governess. But it didn't seem like Miss Rotis was deliberately trying to upset her. Laura wondered what her true intentions were.
"Miss Pendleton, even if you can't work in your current position anymore, will you continue to be a governess?"
"Yes. My employer said he would introduce me to a position with the same treatment as I'm receiving now."
"Do you really trust those words?"
