Chapter 116

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 116
Chapter Title: Working Women (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Laura had breakfast with the two ladies. Then, while Miss Rotis read the newspaper and smoked her cigarillo, Miss Hyde led her on a tour of their rooms.

Miss Rotis’s room had doors that slid open to either side. Pushing the golden handles revealed a room filled with dark hues. A large bed adorned with red damask and black velvet, copper candlesticks, a desk made of the finest oak, and walls covered in ukiyo-e woodblock prints.

Laura's admiring gaze swept over the mystical scene before freezing on one particular spot.

And she let out a scream that was by no means small.

“Oh dear, I should have warned you! My apologies, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Hyde, realizing what had startled Miss Pendleton, quickly apologized. But Laura was in no state to reply. She was so terrified that her tongue felt frozen in her mouth.

Instead of curtains, a massive male lion’s skin was draped over the large glass doors that led to the veranda. Its four legs were splayed wide, its jaws gaping.

The mane glistened as if it belonged to a living beast, and its teeth gleamed sharply, poised to tear the life from a freshly caught deer.

“Th-that… what is that…? It’s not real, is it? It can’t be.”

“It’s quite real. Miss Rotis hunted and skinned it herself in Africa.”

“She hunted it herself?”

“Yes. Miss Rotis is an expert marksman, particularly adept at hunting large game. She says there isn't an animal she hasn't hunted—water buffalo, leopards, elephants. And of course, she skins them all herself. But since it would be impossible to travel with all those hides, she's given them all away as gifts, except for this lion skin, which she cherishes the most.”

It was difficult to imagine. Miss Rotis was petite and walked with a limp. A woman like that had hunted a water buffalo?

Miss Hyde led Laura over to the lion skin. She reached out and stroked its head as one would a beloved German shepherd.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. See? It’s perfectly dead.”

Indeed, the lion showed no reaction to Miss Hyde’s touch. But to Laura, it didn’t matter whether it was dead or alive.

Laura had been afraid of large animals since childhood. That was why she had never learned to ride a horse, a common pastime for ladies.

“Ah, I wish I could hunt a lion…”

Miss Hyde murmured a wish Laura could never comprehend.

Come to think of it, Miss Hyde was an excellent equestrian. During fox-hunting season, she would sometimes take up a rifle and traverse the hunting grounds with her brother. Mr. Fairfax had been so captivated by the sight that he had trailed after her for months.

“Does Miss Rotis have any plans to return to Africa? I’m sure she would be happy to guide you to where the lions are.”

“She won’t be going back to Africa. She was there for a very long time. Her next destination will probably be Japan.”

Miss Hyde’s voice was laced with considerable anticipation.

“Are you going with her, Miss Hyde?”

“Yes. As long as Miss Rotis doesn’t dismiss me.”

The two then went to see Miss Hyde’s room. It was just as large and elegant as Miss Rotis’s.

As Laura looked around the room, her eyes fell upon a messy stack of papers on the desk. Miss Hyde’s distinctively energetic handwriting filled the ink-smudged pages.

Miss Hyde, noticing Laura’s gaze on the papers, quickly moved to block her view.

“Is it a diary?”

Miss Hyde shook her head, her face turning bright red.

“…It’s a novel.”

Laura was startled.

“Miss Hyde, you’re writing a novel?”

“Actually, I started writing a little when I first took up lodging. But I only began working on it in earnest after coming here…”

“May I read it?”

“No!”

Miss Hyde shook her head frantically.

“Later, when it’s more complete, I’ll show it to you then.”

With that, Miss Hyde turned to the desk and quickly began to arrange the manuscript.

Laura didn’t press further. Miss Hyde’s ears had turned as red as hot coals.

Instead, while Miss Hyde organized her manuscript, Laura slowly looked around the room, lost in thought.

She recalled Miss Hyde’s boarding house, where she had stayed a few months ago. It had been practical and tidy, perfectly suitable for a lady living alone, but it was shabby compared to the hotel room she occupied now.

Miss Hyde had courageously escaped her cramped townhouse room, moved through a ladies’ boarding house, and now found herself in this beautiful hotel suite. With each move, she had drawn closer to her goals.

Laura was moved by Miss Hyde’s steady growth.

It was true that her own help had been there at the start. But it was Miss Hyde who had made the decisions and taken action. Laura believed her growth was just beginning. She would reach even further.

Like the skipping stone Miss Hyde had once thrown into the river, far, far beyond the horizon.

***

At noon, the ladies headed to a French restaurant.

The table was reserved for two, but there was plenty of room for a third. A waiter brought an extra chair, and Laura naturally took a seat between Miss Hyde and Miss Rotis.

“I was so surprised to see the lion skin in your room, Miss Rotis. Did you really hunt it yourself?”

Laura asked while they waited for their food.

Miss Rotis, who had hung her cane on the side of her chair and was sipping the wine she had ordered earlier, nodded.

“It was my fourth year in Africa. I was feeling unsettled, and it was a good change of pace.”

“Was something troubling you at the time?”

Miss Rotis chuckled.

“It was just after a fire had destroyed my coffee plantation, ruining the land entirely. I was utterly bankrupt.”

Startled, Laura glanced at Miss Hyde. With the wry smile of one who already knew the story, Miss Hyde gave a slight nod toward Miss Rotis, encouraging Laura to listen.

“When I was eighteen, I inherited two hundred thousand pounds as the sole heir of my great-aunt. Everyone around me had no doubt that I would use that money to enter London society and hunt for a husband. No one could have imagined that I would board a ship for Africa, limping along with my cane.”

“But you did, Miss Rotis.”

Miss Hyde chimed in.

“Yes, I did. I grew coffee there, and during the off-season, I shot beasts in the true wilderness, not some quaint English hunting ground. I never felt more alive than at those times. If I had let my leg hold me back and just stayed on the plantation, I would have become a wreck after the bankruptcy.”

Miss Rotis continued calmly.

“I kept the skins of the animals I hunted hanging in my lodgings. Looking at them, I could believe in my own strength. I had failed as a farmer, but my life was not a failure. So I started to write. At first, I wrote about things like coffee cultivation methods, but the result was dull, and publishers rejected it. But a travelogue compiling my experiences wandering through Africa was accepted, and upon publication, it became a bestseller in England.”

Laura was impressed.

“That’s incredible. So, did you decide to become a travel writer after that?”

“Yes. I traveled through Egypt, India, and Qing China, and wrote nonstop. In carriages, on ships, sometimes on camelback. Losing the farm was a stroke of luck for me. Africa is a fascinating land, but a farmer is not as free as a travel writer. The life of freedom I had vaguely hoped for when I left for Africa—I finally grasped it when I became a travel writer.”

Their orders arrived: scallops, roasted veal, and shrimp.

Laura ate, but she couldn’t taste the food. Her mind was reeling from the incredible tale of adventure she had just heard, her senses dulled by astonishment.

“Is it not to your liking?”

Miss Hyde asked. Laura shook her head and shifted her gaze back to Miss Rotis.

“You’ve lived an amazing life, Miss Rotis.”

“And a dangerous one. I nearly died several times.”

“How so?”

“A typhoon nearly sank my ship once, and I encountered a band of thieves in Egypt. In Qing China, perhaps because it was right after the war with France, they tried to kill any Westerner on sight. I carried a gun with me throughout my travels. Even when I slept.”

She chuckled.

“I like that in England, you don’t need to carry a gun to survive. As for the rest, it doesn’t have many advantages compared to other countries.”

Having said that, Miss Rotis focused on her meal. The roasted veal she ordered seemed to suit her palate quite well. Laura, not wanting to disturb her, focused on her own shrimp dish.

They parted ways in front of the restaurant after the meal. Miss Rotis had an appointment to have tea at two o’clock with a publisher staying in Bath. Miss Hyde, as her secretary, had to attend as well. The two hailed a private carriage.

Sitting in the carriage, Miss Rotis rested her arm on the windowsill at a rakish yet charming angle and smiled at Miss Pendleton.

“Do enjoy Bath to the fullest, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Hyde, sitting next to Miss Rotis, leaned her face toward the window.

“Everything a person could ever want is here!”

Laura gave a small smile.

“My goodness. This place must be heaven. I wonder if it also has the peace and stability I’ve always wanted?”

“If you look hard enough!”

The carriage pulled away from Miss Pendleton.

Laura began to stroll through the streets of Bath.

The 16th-century style marble buildings, the fountain in the center of the intersection, the shop windows with goods displayed as beautifully as a painting, the ladies and gentlemen dressed faithfully to the latest fashions. Walking among them, Laura thought that Bath was certainly a bewitching city.

But Laura couldn’t shake the feeling that she was like oil on water, just as she had in London society. Peace and stability. Such things were unlikely to be found in this luxurious resort city. Perhaps in the woods of Dunville Park and Whitefield, but not here.

Laura’s mind drifted from the uninteresting street scenery and recalled the lunch she had just had.

Laura had never met a woman like Miss Rotis. Such a brave and enterprising woman. She must have been born with a fire in her heart.

Miss Mary Rotis was a person born to an extraordinary destiny, one that expanded the possibilities for women and gave inspiration for life.

‘Unlike me,’

Laura thought calmly, without any particular sense of self-reproach.