Death in a Time of Spanish Flu by Frances McNamara

Author:Frances McNamara [Frances McNamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rudiyat Press
Published: 2022-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Six

When we reached the orange door, Malcolm Murphy was waiting with his man beside him.

“Can I offer you ladies a ride home?” he asked. “I have my motorcar at the back door. It’s a cold night, too cold for you to be walking around.”

I wasn’t looking forward to the cold night air, but I didn’t think Lizzie wanted to accept Malcolm’s offer. She said, “Thank you, Malcolm, but we’ll be all right.” She looked at me. “My mother’s always telling us how she has spent years traipsing around the city at night.”

Malcolm wore an overcoat with velvet lapels and a shiny silk tie. He held a tweed cap in his hands in front of his chest. “Please. I insist. I want to show off my new Packard. Sean and I will sit up front and there’s plenty of room for you ladies in the back.” When Lizzie hesitated, he said, “You don’t want your mother sitting in the cold with the influenza around, do you?”

With a glance at me to confirm I wanted to accept, Lizzie gave in, and Malcolm led us through the coffee shop to a doorway on the other side of the building. “This is the back way,” he bragged. He was proud to show off his inside knowledge of the place, but he wasn’t overbearing. In Lizzie’s presence, he seemed to soften his attitudes more than I’d ever seen before. But no matter how smitten he might be, I could tell that Lizzie was content to fend off his advances. I believed it was for my sake alone that she’d relented and accepted his offer.

Through a small kitchen and then a long dark tunnel we reached an open area on State Street. The motor car was two toned with a gleaming black nose and roof, a tan body, and white walled tires on chrome rims. Malcolm bundled us into the spacious back section, cushioned in soft tan leather. There was room for four people, but he shut the door and climbed into the driving seat in the separate front cab. His henchman climbed in beside him after cranking the engine. The motor was powerful and quiet. The ride was smooth. Lizzie and I leaned back in the luxury of the car which brought back memories of my dead son who had been so enamored of motor cars before his death.

“Tommy would have loved this,” Lizzie said, echoing my thoughts.

We rode in silence, only speaking to the men to give final directions to our townhouse. Malcolm helped us out of the car and up the steps, but he declined to come in. I was grateful because I was exhausted. Lizzie didn’t even thank Malcolm for the ride. I did. I worried about the company my children kept. Agnes and her poor brother were embroiled in the Flora Murphy scandal. She accused Eli of gambling and he obviously had a problem with drink. Malcolm had a notorious father, but I appreciated that he had cared enough to see us home.

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