The idea of inviting Madeleine to dinner was well received depending on which people. Oscar had already shown his displeasure from the beginning but, knowing that the villain was not much more excited about having her around than he was, and also being that he was right that it would be best to dispatch her as soon as possible, he had to pretend he agreed. Being kind to her, even, and trying to avoid matters that could trigger new discussions.
Theresa, seeing her sister, was startled. She was supposed to be back in Snodland in a couple of days, in fact, she had already started packing. But now that Madeleine was here, should she return as planned or stay with her at the hostel? Doubt could be seen in her eyes as she greeted the protagonist, telling she was glad to see her, but not daring to inquire beyond her a bit. Perhaps because she hoped that she would be the one to bring it up first.
Letitia must have been the only one who seemed genuinely glad that Madeleine had come. So much so that, not only did she take care to say the same sweet words as the rest—in his case, sounding authentic—but she solved Theresa's dilemma before she had even stated it out loud.
"Madeleine, since you plan to stay in London for a while," she began, "why don't you stay at our house?"
The suggestion caught both Cornell sisters by surprise, needing a few moments to assimilate that Letitia was serious when she said that. Albert, given the expression he had put on, it could even be elucidated that apart from astonishment he was also angry. Oscar could well imagine him wondering, with inherent frustration, how could this shameless woman even consider my precious little sister's kind proposal? She is not worthy! It's been kind enough of us to bring her in to put up with her ranting and let her see Theresa.
But Albert, despite continuing with that face of few friends, said nothing. Perhaps considering that, since the invitation had been made by Letitia, he had no right to interfere.
Oscar knew the feeling and also chose to remain silent; Wasn't this what the villain wanted? Leaving Madeleine at the Northrop estate wasn't such a bad idea, since while she was kept entertained there, she wouldn't come to bother them in their new home.
"Could I really stay?" Madeleine had asked back, tempting fate.
“Why not? It wouldn't be practical for you to stay in a hostel when your sister is staying here. In addition, we have free rooms.”
“I don't want to impose...”
Madeleine said that, making Oscar stifle a laugh and Albert, for his part, had to reach for a drink to avoid uttering some expletive. What had the protagonist done, during the entire course of that damn story, but impose her own point of view on others?
"It's not imposing at all," Letitia replied, smiling; she really didn't seem to mind having such company. “In fact, I was going to write to your parents to ask if they could let Theresa stay with us a few more weeks. That you stay, let's say as her supervisor, since she is a minor, will surely make the Cornells accept more easily.”
Oh shit. So that was why, Oscar thought. It wasn't that Letitia got along with Madeleine, or even intended to form an alliance with her. She had just concocted a plan that would require her input and through which everyone would benefit from it.
He understood the reasoning, and he supposed Albert did too. Although, even so, it did not seem that the latter was very amused.
"That being the case, I have no choice but to accept your kind offer," Madeleine smiled. I really have been lucky to be able to talk to you today, Letitia! I may not say it often, because you haven't been in Snodland much lately, but you must know that of all the girls in town, I like you best! Really, I promise I won't forget the kind treatment you showed me today by letting me stay!”
That was such an obvious lie that even Theresa couldn't help but look away from her and pretend she hadn't heard her sister. And though Letitia gladly accepted the compliments, Oscar couldn't help but think something along the lines of, “If you're really that grateful, Madeleine, you could have started by apologizing to her for all the rudeness you've done since we both met you. you know”. But of course that never occurred to anyone.
Thus, during this awkward dinner that they had, Oscar lost interest in the nonsense that Madeleine kept saying and began to focus on a glass that belonged to the villain. Cup that, after that last round of false praise, he took as if it were his own and poured his entire contents into his own container.
“What are you doing?” The villain asked, realizing that all the wine had evaporated from his glass and, next to his plate, there was only a glass of water left.
"Nothing, nothing," replied the other innocently. “It's just that tomorrow you're going to your job interview and I thought: It's better if he goes cheerfully, but not that happy.”
And it is that if Albert had been drinking, something unusual for him, it was only because he needed something to distract himself and thus not think about his imminent anger. The villain only drank when it was required at an event in which he had to toast, if something was being celebrated or, as in this particular case, if he needed to suppress some negative feeling. Because of that, and since he wasn't that fond of alcohol, he didn't protest after knowing Oscar's reason for taking it away. Perhaps, he must have thought, he would be getting too involved in things that did not concern him.
At that moment, as much as his conscience bothered him for having been the one who had the idea of inviting her, he had to concentrate on his work and on the move. He shouldn't have time to brood over some non-existent danger in leaving Letitia alone in the same house as Madeleine.
What terrible event could happen, anyway? With Peter Northrop about to return, there would at least be one other adult on this property to see that things remained as smooth as usual. He just had to trust that the protagonist behaved decently, at least for that short period of time.
As for Oscar, it would not be so easy for him to ignore her.
Since he still hadn't finalized anything about her employment and Madeleine therefore assumed that she would have nothing better to do, she tried to convince him to help her look for a job.
At that point, Oscar had already gone with the publishing contract before a lawyer. And after reviewing the document a few times, had concluded that it would be a good decision to accept its terms. Now, that was a few days ago. The lawyer had a long and interesting talk before him about the advantages and disadvantages of accepting that the publisher publish his manuscript, reaching the aforementioned conclusion. But Oscar didn't want to go back to King & Meadows just yet.
He didn't because it was still too early and he had other things to do.
With the contract already settled in the first few days, he wanted to use the rest of the time Mr. Meadows gave him to find a flat and get settled. That, he thought, would also give the aforementioned time to consider whether it would be propitious to have him in his company as a publisher as well.
Hence, the day after Madeleine's arrival, and since the move would not take place for twenty-four hours, Oscar had thought of spending it touring the city in the company of Letitia and Theresa. He had already mentioned it to them, in fact, and they were both delighted to have him along for the ride. Who would have thought that, due to the appearance of Madeleine, she would also end up joining? And, in the end, just so as not to bother the other two, Oscar ended up agreeing to accompany the protagonist, separating from them and thus wasting his day off.
"I can't believe that you don't know anyone in London," Madeleine said as soon as they were left alone in the middle of one of the busy sidewalks that morning. “So what good has it been for you to get closer to Albert Northrop?”
“You may not believe me, but some of us do not look at the amount of assets that people have, or the contacts they have, when deciding whether or not to be with that person.”
“No, I already know, I've got a very clear idea of what you pay attention to for those things. But it does not matter! What counts now is that even if you don't have the connections, you must have the influence.”
Eh no. I'm still the same starving being as before, thought Oscar. Only now I'm in the company of a fancy guy and it seems like I increased my pedigree and everything. But, if the protagonist insisted on elucidating that about his suddenly majestic person, who was he to take away her illusion?
"Disregarding my dubious powers of persuasion when it comes to urging someone to commit the imprudence of hiring you, what do you suppose you wanted to work for?"
"Oh, that… I really don't care what the job is," Before Oscar could suggest anything, Madeleine added. “Anything will do as long as what I'm offered is paid at least £20 a week, no heavy lifting, flexible hours, my innate talents can be appreciated and, most importantly, I don't have to get dirty. What would clients think, or whoever hires me, if they see me as a mess?”
"Twenty pounds is not earned by the average worker even in a month, and you plan to have that amount in a week…"
“Well, you are the son of servants. I am a lady. Of course, the fees should be proportional to the merits.”
“And what is that of not being used in heavy work or in any position that makes you dirty?” he continued, ignoring that absurd retort. “Do you really want to work on something?”
“Don't come to me with that, there are plenty of jobs that don't require those things! I could be a governess, for example.”
“No, for that you would have to know how to teach.”
And you don't even know how to learn yourself, he considered adding, but he didn't quite get around to it.
“If they're little kids, there wouldn't be much to teach, anyway. Showing them the alphabet and locking them in with their books until recess time would be enough. That's how they taught us and we ended with enough knowledge to travel the world.”
Hearing this, Oscar didn't say anything anymore because, what for? And Madeleine, finding herself devoid of an answer, insisted:
“Well? Don't you think I should try it as a teacher?”
“Actually… I was thinking of sending a telegram to my cousin Thomas. Maybe he'd agree to put you on display in his gallery for a small fee, as long as you keep quiet and don´t break anything.”
“This is serious!” Fixing her gaze on a local across the road, she exclaimed suddenly. “Look, let's try there! I don't know if you'll appreciate my skills as a teacher, but I certainly can't go wrong when it comes to entertainment.”
Madeleine had pointed to a teahouse, and before Oscar could stop her, she hastened toward it. So that he had no choice but to follow her.
If she had mentioned something about a show, it was because from the outside, through the shop window, she could see a piano located in a corner of the premises. Madeleine thought that, if she convinced the owners, she could dedicate herself to entertaining evenings with the beautiful melodies that drew from the instrument. This, of course, considering that she had complete confidence in her playing skills.
And well, what to say about it? There was no doubt that Madeleine could play a piano; in Rose Cottage they had had one and, eventually, one of the governesses that the Cornells had was in charge of teaching the young women to function with such an instrument. That was all. Neither Madeleine nor any of her sisters turned out to be fond of music. With the exception of Theresa, who still used the piano from time to time so as not to forget what she had learned, her sisters barely looked at it all year.
As a result, the protagonist could be said to possess the mediocre talent of someone who, aside from not having sat at the keys in a long time, had forgotten a good deal of sheet music.
Be that as it may, not that her talents mattered, given the circumstances. And the thing is, what kind of local owner would agree to let the first person who came in to ask him play the piano? Well, maybe if it were a tavern located in the underworld of the city there would be possibilities. At least by nightfall, since the patrons would be so drunk they probably wouldn't even notice music was playing.
But not here. This, in particular, was a place located in the heart of the city, where the most distinguished people used to go. How then could the owner agree to let Madeleine play without testing her beforehand?
No, not only did they reject her without wanting to hear her, but they asked her to abandon the idea of wanting to act as a soloist for them.
Despite what she might claim, saying that they were close-minded ignorants who refused to appreciate her value, they were kind enough to offer her to take a test to become a waitress. And why not accept? It could be that, by the standards of the protagonist, it was not the job of the century. But this was an elegant room and, since they did not need artists to liven up their evenings, one that could be proud to work as a waiter in such a place.
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"Then what do you want me to do? Do I help you prepare the tea or do you prefer that I serve the customers directly?”
"Neither of those two things," the owner had replied, fearful that this unknown woman would directly disturb one of his regular customers. “You just attend to that friend of yours and I will be watching to see how you do it.”
Madeleine wanted to ask why she had to attend to Oscar, but the latter, who had sat down at a table with the sole purpose of waiting for the protagonist to finish her bland pantomime, could perfectly get the idea; the owner did not want to scare those who were already in his establishment. And, if Madeleine screwed up, what better thing than let her make a fool of herself in front of someone she already knew and therefore wouldn't get mad at the salon workers?
Ah, but Oscar was already angry, since before the protagonist agreed to do anything. With the luck he displayed, added to the null talents for the work that she possessed, he saw her very capable of breaking a teapot with such suddenness that one of the splinters flew out, with such bad luck it cut his jugular .
Of course, that was too bizarre a scenario. Madeleine wouldn't be capable of committing involuntary manslaughter with a few pieces of crockery. For that, she was more fond of ropes and heavy objects.
In any case, Oscar was prepared for a disaster that with no doubt would end up splashing him. In various senses of the word.
And he wasn't wrong about being careful and not overconfident; though Madeleine managed to carry a tray from the staff area to the table he was sitting at, two steps short of reaching him, she tripped. Though she quickly regained her balance and somehow didn't knock any of the pieces to the ground, the entire contents of the tray shook. With the consequence that a few drops of the boiling liquid that landed on the tray and even threatened to reach the table.
If Oscar had been spared a major disaster on his person, it was not only because the teapot still had its lid on—thus restricting most of its contents—but because, hearing that it was to be served, For Madeleine, he had changed seats, taking the farthest point in the aisle, against the wall. So that if an accident similar to the one that had just happened occurred, he would not suffer immediate consequences and would have time to react.
From the counter, the owner motioned for Madeleine to go back for a rag to clean up a small mess for which she didn't even apologize. And yes, the protagonist obediently did, perhaps wondering why the hell she had to clean the tray if the customer wasn't going to use it. Couldn't whoever washed the dishes in that joint take care of that? But apparently keeping up appearances with customers was important. So Madeleine had to pick up the rag, clean what was asked of her and leave the contents of the tray on the table.
"Won't you serve me?"
The question was only asked because Oscar was already seeing the protagonist about to walk back to the counter. And, not that he had much experience in tea rooms, but he was well aware that things shouldn´t working out the way she was doing them.
“You have two hands, help yourself!”
Madeleine must have thought he was swearing at her or something, where had he seen a commoner dare to demand a young lady act as a maid for him? But, less than ten meters away, the owner was watching her performance with a frown and crossed arms, a sure sign that he would not allow any more mistakes. What could Madeleine do but obey?
"You didn't dry the crockery right under it," Oscar observed. “Not that I care much, of course. But the table is going to get dirty.”
"Any other complaints?" The protagonist was already starting to get angry.
"Now that you mention it... Could you go change this cookies? With your clumsiness earlier, some tea has spilled on them.”
“You know what? You could at least give me some compliments,” she snapped, but picked up the plate anyway. “It should be an honor for you to be served by me.”
"Well… I admit that the tea is very good," he pointed out, even knowing that the tea was the only thing that Madeleine hadn't prepared. “The service was somewhat mediocre, too clumsy and haughty for my liking. You didn't even say good morning to me.”
He was going to add something like: "But the owner will take care of putting you in line, like any new employee", but the protagonist's patience had already reached her peak. After releasing a verbiage of expletives at the top, claiming that he was the worst client she had ever served in her life, she threw all the cookies at him as if they were projectiles.
In truth, Oscar didn't think she would get like this over constructive criticism. Not in front of his possible boss, at least. Besides, he had been kind, the fault that because of this she lost the opportunity to work there was entirely hers, because of her self-centeredness! With that little show she made the owner angry and, although he only charged them for the drink and forced Madeleine to clean up what she had thrown away, he also forbade them both to set foot in his premises again.
"It was all your fault!" Madeleine exclaimed once in the streets, again. “Why have you become so demanding all of a sudden? Did you want to sabotage me?”
"How was that being picky?" Oscar asked in turn, still trying to brush some crumbs off his clothes. “It is the minimum quality that one expects when going to any establishment!”
"I hope you at least enjoyed the place, because given your status, you will never in your life be able to afford to return to such a distinguished place!"
"At least it's because of my status, and not because I almost killed one of their clients in a fit of rage." Before she could protest again, he suggested, changing the subject. “Listen, let's go to an employment agency. Surely there they will be more qualified to advise you on what job you should take.”
At first, Madeleine refused. Determined as she was that the people from the capital should be queuing up to hire her and not be she the one who had to go door to door, begging each owner of a prosperous business. But as the hours passed, she realized that her idea of simply approaching the owners of the busiest and most illustrious venues was not working.
Apart from the tea room, they had entered eight other premises during that day.
And in all of them, without exception, Madeleine had been rejected. In most cases, either because they didn't need extra staff or because they didn't have any reference to hire anyone who asked. They sent her away as soon as they knew what she was coming for. In other places, where those in charge of her were more friendly, they let her take various tests in which she soon failed.
Oscar didn't help... But he didn't try to boycott her either, acting only as a silent company in each establishment they entered. Being that the protagonist was not willing to listen to his advice, he would not waste his breath insisting either.
That's why he let Madeleine make a fool of herself on her own, until evening came and she gave in herself, realizing she would achieve nothing if she continued down this path. It was at that moment that she finally agreed to go to the previously suggested employment agency. Place where, the person who worked there, looked at her suspiciously realizing that not only did she not have any experience in work of any kind, but on top of that the ideals she was looking for could correspond to anything except what one could consider work.
“The only thing that would sit well with what you ask would be to propose as a companion for some woman from high society”, this man had murmured, after listening to a spiel by the protagonist from which he could not make much sense. “But these people require, apart from the usual requirements to perform well in their work, that the servant comes from a good family and is not involved in scandals.”
“It's okay, we can lie! It can't be that complicated to write a letter of recommendation... Then, my family is very loved in my native village. We're just going through some financial difficulties right now, that's all. And well, about my failed wedding where that prostitute tried to steal my ex-fiancé, we can draw a thick veil, right? That was only in the local papers anyway, I don't think it made it to town.”
The individual who was attending her was shocked for a few moments; there was no doubt the guy did not know Madeleine or her circumstances and that, therefore, if she had not told him the story of her life, he would not have known anything.
"We can't lie!" He exclaimed indignantly, recovering from his surprise. “It would be bad for my business! What would my clients think if I send them someone with false references?”
Madeleine was going to insist, asking to make an exception this time, with the promise that she would do her best and these people would never have to find out about such a small thing. But Oscar was faster; He, who had remained silent since they entered the agency's office, asked the worker to speak to him alone for a moment.
It was a strange request, considering that he didn't seem interested in anything that was being discussed there. But it must have seemed to the clerk that Oscar was more reasonable than Madeleine, just because of how calm and impassive he looked. So, without much thought, he agreed.
It took a bit of convincing the protagonist to leave the office for a few moments: Oscar had to swear to her that he would take care of her interests, tightening the nuts on the guy who had served them, to make sure he provided her with the well-paid job that she deserved.
Now, who was sure that Oscar wouldn't be lying when he swore such a thing? That idyll that Madeleine was looking for, where everyone would praise her and give her things for not doing a damn thing, couldn't exist anywhere.
The manager of the agency feared, for a second, that Oscar was trying to threaten him in some way to get his companion to get what she wanted. Nothing could be further from the truth. As soon as they were alone, Oscar asked:
“Please forget everything she said to you. The poor thing fell out of her crib when she was not yet a year old and since then she has never been the same.”
“Really? She seemed to me to be the most sane… And vehement. Especially vehement!” He pointed out, relieved to learn that Oscar was on his own ship. “I've seen many like her in the years I've been here. Children of noble people who are left in ruins and need to do what they never needed. They say they want to work, but those jobs they're looking for, for me sound like a vacation.”
“For you and for everyone. That's why I'm telling you, forget about her demands, I'll intercede on your behalf with Ms. Cornell.”
“Good power of conviction you must have, then.”
“You just limit yourself to tell me, is there any job offered for which neither a nobility title nor experience is needed?” Seeing the other begin to search through his notes in a notebook, he added. “If it were not necessary to pass any test, if she could immediately go to the address indicated and start working, that would be ideal.”
If there is no exam, it is impossible to fail, was the reasoning that Oscar had arrived at.
Being that the scale of expectations had dropped from ten to zero in just a couple of seconds, the manager felt very relaxed. So much so that, after turning a few pages, he was able to start making some suggestions of places where personnel, not necessarily qualified, were always lacking. Oscar went through the options until he found one that, he believed, Madeleine could not refuse.
And he wasn't wrong, no. What he had chosen was a Lyceum, a place where a handful of scholars used to meet to discuss matters of culture. Where, in addition, talks and social events used to be held, attended by celebrities from all over London. Who wouldn't want to work in a place like this? Just to say that she would be allowed to visit, day after day, was in itself something to be proud of. Well, usually, these types of places used to remain closed for those who were not members.
Without a doubt, Madeleine would be happy to know that she would be the new hostess of the Lyceum, in charge of keeping everything ready before those academic gentlemen showed up at the facilities. How many women were even allowed in there? Surely even Theresa would be envious, since she always wanted to be able to go to one of those meetings where philosophers and poets met.
This then agreed, and with Madeleine delighted to have achieved one of the goals for which she traveled to the city, she was given an address and a date. She should show up at the place next week, asking for a lady who should be her superior in the new job.
Anyway, that was already out of Oscar's reach: he had gotten her the job, even though he would have had to walk around half the city and convince a random man to be grandiloquent and omit some information. His own peace of mind depended, after all, on Madeleine taking the job without making a fuss.
And boy did she accept it! When she returned to the Northrop estate, she couldn't help but talk about it. No, not only that, since she arrived, she began to let out a monologue on the subject, as if she had already been in the job and could not help but recount the wonders it offered. She was so enthusiastic that even came to thank Oscar for his cooperation —something so unusual that to the aforementioned even gave him chills—, refusing to stop her tirade even during dinner time.
Dinner that, by the way, was a real nuisance.
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