Chapter 2 – Kingston (Part 9)

When she opened the door, the savory smell of cream wafted in. A wooden tray with food was placed on the side table. Evelyn, who was familiar with the tray, stepped into the room. As she closed the door behind her, a long-suppressed sigh escaped.  

“Haah…”  

The white stew bowl on the tray had a lid on it. A piece of crusty bread and a silver spoon. Evelyn only glanced over the simple yet appetizing dinner. As if something had distracted her, she trudged over to the desk without even taking off her coat.  

She held a heavy paper box in one hand.  

‘What is this?’

‘It’s a token of gratitude for getting me out of a predicament.’

She didn’t ask precisely what predicament he meant. Whether it was mediating the Empress’s invitation or needing a partner for the concert, none of it would have been a serious “predicament” for him.  

‘I hope you’ll find it useful.’

Standing in front of her desk, Evelyn looked down at the box in her hand. After staring at it for a moment, she began to unwrap it, as if making up her mind. She carefully peeled off the adhesive, leaving the red wrapping paper almost intact. She opened the paper box and took out the contents.  

It was an ink bottle she recognized. Identical to the one on her desk.  

Evelyn looked at what she held in her hands. A black ink bottle filled to the brim. A perfectly new item, even the cap gleaming, she held it in her hand for a while. Then she suddenly lifted her head to look out the window. The car that had been across the street was already gone. The man inside was no longer there. 

Had the driver already returned? Where did he live? Would he eat dinner alone when he got home?  

As she looked at the empty street, she found herself thinking such thoughts and gave a bitter smile.  

Since coming to Kingston, Evelyn hadn’t gotten close to people. It wasn’t just because she was a foreigner and couldn’t find someone to communicate with. She was from the most powerful country in the vicinity, and thanks to that, her native language was used as a common language among intellectuals in neighboring countries. So even in this foreign capital, she wouldn’t have had trouble finding someone fluent in her language if she had tried.  

Evelyn wanted to avoid interaction with others. She only desired limited conversation and superficial communication. She believed that to heal deep wounds, one needed enough time and a completely isolated space. However, during the 3 years and 3 months she spent in the solitude she sought herself, she was slowly becoming depleted.  

She had been tormented by a feeling of withering away for a long time. She sat at her desk almost all day, holding a pen and writing something in a notebook, but she hadn’t started any significant work since the novel published last month. Her daily life was more monotonous than that of a nun in a convent.

A writer whose emotions have dried up is no different from a dead tree. No matter how much she squeezed, only sentences as brittle as deadwood rustled out. Evelyn Dale had been crushed by solitude for too long. She was too young to live like a recluse, thirsty for conversation and interaction, and she missed new people and events.

So perhaps this was an opportunity. An opportunity to taste vitality again. An opportunity to breathe life into her dried-up daily life. An opportunity for a refreshing change of pace, like leaving a dreary house for a sunny field trip.  

‘Then please make use of me.’

Bryant Clifton was a man with a clear status. He was a person with culture and manners and someone with honor to uphold. Above all, he was entangled with her in a matter of public interest, and it was precisely that point that reassured Evelyn. At the very least, they wouldn’t put each other in the worst situation. Whatever situation arose, he would try to protect his own interests.  

So he would make quite a decent companion. As long as she didn’t completely trust him.  

‘I hope you’ll find it useful.’

New. Something that will be useful. Something to be discarded without hesitation once it’s empty.  

‘If you need help preparing, I’d be happy to assist.’

The woman who thought up to that point picked up the empty ink bottle on her desk. When she dropped it into the trash can, it made a dull sound as it hit. In the place where the old was cleared away, she placed the new. A perfectly gleaming new ink bottle, not a single drop used yet.  

After looking at it for a moment, Evelyn finally began to take off the winter coat she had been wearing.  

*  

The telegram from the man arrived around noon the next day. Returning from her walk, Evelyn saw the small envelope slipped through the door and picked it up before even taking off her outdoor coat.  

I will send a car at 2 PM tomorrow.  

The message was brief. But it took considerable effort to deduce the intention behind it. 2 PM. An ambiguous time. Too late for lunch and too early for tea. 

But why tomorrow? Where could one go on a Sunday afternoon by car?  

No, wait. It says ‘send a car,’ not ‘come with the car,’ so he doesn’t mean to come himself. Where does he want me to go alone? 

Looking at the telegram, Evelyn pondered for a long time. She came up with a few plausible candidates and ranked them in order of likelihood. That afternoon was filled entirely with those thoughts.  

After much deliberation about what to wear, she finally took out a dress she had stored deep in her wardrobe. The most luxurious attire she owned. A dark green satin dress.  

Worn only once, three years ago.  

The dress still fit her well. Evelyn looked at the woman in the mirror and let out a small chuckle. Her heart felt a little cool, but that was all. Time indeed had the power to heal wounds. The area that was once so painful it hurt to even breathe no longer hurt even when pressed hard.  

She sprayed lavender perfume and stood in front of the mirror again. She looked at her exposed white neck and prominent collarbones. She imagined the man’s gaze landing there. The blue-gray eyes staring quietly. The thought made her heart flutter a bit, so she looked away from the mirror.  

At exactly 2 o’clock, a faint engine sound was heard. She drew the curtain and looked down the alley to see the top of a black car. A car without horses. The automobile that came to pick her up.  

Evelyn put on her coat and descended the stairs quickly, hoping not to run into anyone. She didn’t want the landlady or the maid to see her flustered appearance in such attire. Though she wasn’t doing anything wrong, she somehow felt less than upright.  

Fortunately, she didn’t run into anyone.  

“Hello, Miss.”  

Waiting for her in front of the car was a man she was meeting for the first time. A young man with curly ginger hair that left an impression.  

“Derby Ellen. I’m Mr. Clifton’s driver.”  

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ellen.”

“Nice to meet you too.”  

“Please take care of me. Where am I going?”  

“I was instructed to take you to Ember Crossing.”  

Evelyn was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected destination. Ember Crossing is a place where high-end dressmakers, accessory shops, and jewelers are located. 

Are they telling me to get a new outfit?

Evelyn thought as she looked at the driver opening the car door. The door swung open, and the inside was empty.  

“Please get in.”  

Evelyn took his outstretched hand and climbed into the seat. The lingering scent inside the car was distinct. Narcissus fragrance. The scent of the perfume that man uses.  

As she thought about it, the driver who had opened the front door got in and started the engine. The mechanical sound rumbled, and the seat vibrated, making her inwardly tense. It was her first time riding in a moving automobile.  

The car began to move forward smoothly. It was definitely advancing, but there was no sound of hooves. The engine noise was so quiet compared to the noise of a carriage that it felt unreal. 

Amazing. 

Evelyn felt like she had entered a completely new world, and so, inevitably, her spirits were a bit lifted.  

“I put you in a difficult position that day, didn’t I?”  

She spoke to the driver abruptly because of this.  

“What day are you referring to?”  

“I think you had to leave your post because of me, Mr. Ellen.”

“Oh, you mean Friday night.”  

“Yes. There probably wasn’t a suitable place for you to wait.”  

“Oh, no. I went straight home that day. Thanks to you, I got off work very comfortably.”  

Evelyn tilted her head at the unexpected answer.  

“Then the car that day…”  

“Mr. Clifton took it to his home.”  

“Does he drive too?”  

“Of course. It’s a skill, but it’s not extremely difficult.”  

Most people who own cars drive them too. Ellen continued his explanation kindly.  

“But driving yourself can be tiring. You waste time while traveling. Having a driver allows you to travel comfortably and do other things while on the move. Mr. Clifton is always reading something in the car. Books, newspapers, manuscripts, things like that.”  

“He seems busy.”  

“He’s a businessman. He often has dinner invitations in the evenings. Thanks to him, people like me make a living.”  

Ellen laughed lightly. Leaning on the young man’s cheerfulness and kindness, Evelyn asked what she had been curious about.  

“Is he coming to the place we’re going to now?”  

“Well, I’m not sure about that. I was only instructed to take you there today.”  

“I see.”  

She nodded as if it was no big deal and turned her gaze to the window. The car was smoothly running down the straight road. Today, too, Kingston’s afternoon was gray, humid, and chilly.  

The gray city’s landscape blurred and constantly receded. Looking at it made Evelyn feel a little dizzy. This car running on an engine was too quiet and perhaps a bit too fast.