19th Century Seamstress

chapter 19

Nasha Vlamir's grandfather was from Moscow, and her parents, once gold miners in Alaska, later moved to New York State and found work in a textile factory.

She had two older brothers and one younger sister. As the third child, she often bore the brunt of her family’s harsh treatment.

While working at the Ritz Hotel, she met a businessman named Mr. Durham. She didn't know much about Mr. Durham's dealings, but during his courtship, he took her to the theater and fancy restaurants. He was polite, generous, and attentive.

A few days ago, he had Nasha resign from her job, saying he feared her family would discover their secret relationship. He rented her a two-room apartment with a bathroom in a busy yet secluded alleyway, far from prying eyes. He bought her clothes, furnishings, and even hired a maid, telling her to leave her family and bring nothing with her.

At this moment, Nasha stood at the top of the stairs, looking astonished. She wore a brand-new blue velvet, round-neck jacket, paired with a striped satin skirt that fell to her feet. A string of pearls adorned her neck, her hair was oiled and neatly arranged under a hat decorated with handmade flowers. She wore white silk gloves and carried a small metal purse.

Nasha, tall and slender, looked more spirited than ever after dressing up. Her pale skin, with hints of auburn in her hair, set off her delicate features. Light powder, neatly drawn brows, and a touch of lip color gave her an unexpectedly alluring charm. If Eloise hadn’t been sure of her own eyes, she might not have recognized her.

"Eloise? What brings you here?" Nasha, coming out of her shock, felt a little embarrassed at first. She was relieved when she saw no trace of disdain in Eloise’s expression.

"I’m here to look at an apartment," Eloise replied.

The elderly landlady knew that Nasha was a mistress kept by a businessman. Her room cost ten dollars a week, with her lover covering the rent for the next six months.

“You two know each other? If you know Miss Vlamir, you can take the key and see the room yourself.” With that, the landlady handed the key to Eloise, who gladly accepted it.

"All right," Eloise said, climbing a few steps up with the key. She too was surprised, both by Nasha's sudden appearance and by how stunning she looked.

“Are you living here alone now?” Eloise asked.

Nasha had been about to go out to buy some ointment, but she no longer felt like it, so she accompanied Eloise to view the apartment.

"Yes, Mr. Durham rarely visits. There’s only one maid here with me," she explained, following Eloise into the five-dollar-a-week room.

"Seems like he's treating you well?" Eloise remarked, glancing at the peeling window frames.

The room was only a little larger than the place they used to stay on 33rd Street, and its lighting was even poorer. There was a tiny balcony. The floor was spotted with mildew, and Nasha carefully lifted her skirt as she moved, wary of dirtying it. “Yes, he’s very generous,” she replied.

"Good to hear. I’d heard some things about you at the hotel and thought that Mr. Durham might be a fraud," Eloise teased with a light smile. Though she wanted to remind Nasha to be cautious, she thought better of it, not wanting to sound like she was wishing her ill.

“Thank you for your concern. Life isn’t too bad for me right now,” Nasha said, inviting Eloise to her home for some tea.

After surveying the worn apartment, Eloise dismissed the thought of living there herself. She said she’d look for housing elsewhere, but Nasha, eager for company after being cooped up alone with a quiet maid, persuaded her to stay a while longer.

Nasha’s apartment was higher up, less damp, and consisted of two rooms, complete with a bathroom fitted with a flushing toilet. It was cozily decorated with all-new furniture. A men’s felt hat hung in the entrance closet.

Sitting with her by the window, Eloise was served tea with milk and a tray of sugar-dusted cookies by Nasha’s robust, stout maid. Eloise only drank the tea, not touching the cookies.

The two of them, once co-workers at the hotel, had always gotten along well. Now, chatting together, Eloise shared the latest happenings from the Ritz.

“Have they been gossiping about me? Saying I’m only in it for his money, that I’m shameless?” Nasha asked.

Eloise knew they’d said worse things but simply shook her head, replying, “I’m usually too busy working to pay attention to gossip. And even if they do talk behind your back, it doesn’t affect you. It’s best to ignore it.”

“Exactly. I’m going to live my life well, no matter what others say,” Nasha replied, though her expression dimmed slightly.

Eloise changed the topic, mentioning the long winter ahead and the approaching Christmas holiday. They shared a laugh over how bossy Laura still was at work.

Nasha inquired about Eloise’s seamstress work, asking if business was steady. Eloise replied that it was busy enough to keep her from worrying about money.

Nasha then had her maid fetch two spools of fine thread from her vanity and presented them to Eloise as an early Christmas gift. Eloise, needing the thread, accepted it and offered to make Nasha a house robe in return.

Nasha initially wanted to refuse, but she could tell that Eloise wasn’t the type to feel ashamed of material differences. She genuinely wanted to return the gesture. So Nasha brought out a few yards of cotton fabric, happily agreeing to Eloise’s offer to make her a robe.

After this visit, Eloise felt a newfound warmth towards Nasha, and the two agreed to meet again after Christmas.

Before leaving, Eloise borrowed a basket from the maid to carry all the items she’d received. She returned the key to the landlady downstairs.

“I’ll discuss this with my family and get back to you soon. Thank you for your time,” Eloise told the landlady, who nodded and reminded her the two vacant rooms would only be held for three more days.

When Eloise got home, her family members had all returned from work or school. Exhausted from the day’s errands and socializing, she lay down for a bit, recounting her outing to Louise and Bella, including her thoughts on the apartment.

“That place isn’t any better than what we’ve got,” Louise remarked while soaking her feet. “It’s doubtful you’ll find a decent room in that area.”

Her cousin Tilly, busy flipping a batch of fresh naan, chuckled when she heard that Eloise had gone to Narrow Alley. “Only factory workers and the managers' mistresses live there,” she quipped.

Tilly’s aunt, who enjoyed gossip, chimed in. “There was a case in the paper recently. A businessman rented a room there to meet his lover, but before he could meet her, he got attacked—bagged over the head and killed.” She added, “With so many girls in this family, we should steer clear of such places, and Eloise, you should avoid going there in the future.”

Eloise kept her encounter with Nasha to herself but couldn’t help pondering the aunt’s words. Mr. Durham had set Nasha up in such a shady place but still treated her generously. What were his real intentions?

No wonder the landlady had mentioned three recently vacated apartments; it seemed any good deal came with hidden pitfalls. Eloise, drying her feet, went to taste the naan Tilly had made.

“Then tomorrow, after work, I’ll check out some other neighborhoods.”

Tilly’s aunt nodded, frying a new batch of naan. The golden, speckled bread gave off an inviting aroma.

Eloise marveled at the sight and praised Tilly’s skill. Tilly, a little embarrassed, replied, “It’s nothing; every decent housewife knows how to make this.”

“True, but if everyone could cook like this, rich families wouldn’t pay cooks such high wages!” Eloise laughed, adding, “Cooking is a far more valuable skill than sewing—one feeds you and can earn you a good income.”

“Auntie, look at me! I’ve sewn so many dresses for others, yet I don’t even own a nice gown myself. Heaven above, how unfair that is!”

Amused, Tilly promised to buy eggs the next morning and make a batch of crepes for breakfast.

That night, Eloise organized the thread and fabric from Nasha, deciding she’d take her time to make the robe. She couldn’t shake the thought that her arrival in this world might have changed the original character’s fate. Otherwise, the tragic path meant for her might have fallen upon Nasha instead.

The novel’s protagonist was an aspiring actress, while the original version of herself had been a washed-up performer with no fans. The book described her as “a woman who drank herself into despair, even setting the theater on fire in a hopeless moment, perishing on stage.”

In the book, her role was almost insignificant. Now, thinking of the beautiful, vibrant Nasha, Eloise found the idea of such an ending unbearable. Turning restlessly in bed, she couldn’t find peace.