Page 17 of Mrs. Victoria Buys A Brothel

C hapter 17

Cancan

“ V ictoria? Victoria!”

Mrs.Zhao snapped her fingers in front of her face. Both her and Mrs.Jackson were staring. They were all standing on the porch of the General Store.

“Oh! Good morning Hualing, Simone.”

“Your head is in the clouds today,” said Mrs.Jackson.

“And you’re blocking the door.”

“My apologies.” Victoria stepped away. She had been lost in thought, holding her heavy bag of groceries. She switched hands and stretched her pained arm.

Mrs.Zhao let herself in. Mrs.Jackson stayed and looked at the horizon, where Victoria had been staring.

“Is everything alright, Victoria?”

“Why, yes, thank you. How are you, Simone? How’s the family?”

Mrs.Jackson dismissed her attempt at changing the conversation. “You’ve got people worried. Hualing said she invited you for tea twice, and both times, you didn’t show up. Deborah says you completely ignored her, the other day, she’s wondering if you’re mad at her. Even that Mexican hussy asked me if I knew what’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing. I’m simply tired because of the upcoming church weekend. I’ll be right as—”

“James asked me why there were no piano lessons anymore.”

“…Oh.”

Mrs.Jackson huffed. “Victoria, you’re a charming woman, and we could have a worse enabler of sin in this town. But you made a promise to my son and I can’t have you breaking his heart. Can I count on you?”

“Yes. All my apologies, it won’t happen again. Tell James there will be a lesson this afternoon.”

“I will. In the meantime, leave this to your prostitutes and come to my house, it’s tea time.”

Victoria found herself in the Jacksons’ small, but cozy kitchen, drinking delicious Chinese tea. Mrs.Zhao had brought her own set, since she deemed American made cups unworthy.

“Now,” said Mrs.Zhao, waiting for Victoria to take a sip, “tell us what’s going on with the widow Díaz.”

Victoria swallowed wrong and coughed.

“You two are clearly fighting,” said Mrs.Jackson. “She was coming to town more often but now we haven’t seen her in two weeks. What did you do?”

“I don’t know!” Victoria blurted.

“Did you insult her dead husband?” asked Mrs.Zhao.

“I hope not.” But she was unsure. There was now a gun hidden under her mattress, a gun with initials engraved on the handle. She knew the feel of his work pants and the space she took in his marital bed.

“Hualing, you’re the only one who could manage to disrespect Sebastian Díaz,” said Mrs.Jackson. “He was a good, hardworking, Christian man.”

Victoria hid her face in her cup. What would Mrs.Jackson think of Sebastian Díaz if she learned he was an invert? Would she have the same respect for a good, hardworking man?

“He talked too much and had a weird sense of humour,” scoffed Mrs.Zhao. “But he did help me carry the groceries, a couple of times.”

“He was kind to my James.”

“Yeah, I remember he used to make faces at Mei, when she was a toddler. Shame he and the missus never had kids.”

“Such a shame. “

Victoria drank her tea in silence, thinking about a marital bed and the space between two bodies. A bed that felt safe, instead of threatening.

“So, if you haven’t done anything to insult the widow Díaz, why would she be mad at you?” asked Mrs.Jackson.

“Why are you surprised?” asked Mrs.Zhao. “She seems pretty moody, she never talks.”

Victoria huffed. “She does talk!”

“Not to us, not really,” said Mrs.Zhao, nibbling on a biscuit. “We’ve lived in the same town for decades and I’m sure we haven’t said more than a dozen words to each other. Honestly, I don’t think she likes people.”

“She… she’s not like that!” burst out Victoria. “She’s kind, and funny, and she does want to talk to people, but she doesn’t know how. She’s been so alone since her husband died, in that big, empty farm, and she does not deserve to be gossiped about in this way—”

“Calm down, hun, Hualing didn’t mean it like that,” said Mrs.Jackson.

“Meh,” said Mrs.Zhao.

Victoria took a deep breath to swallow her outrage. “Natane is a delightful woman and I won’t have anyone disrespect her to my face. I’m sure there’s an excellent reason why she hasn’t come by. Maybe she’s sick!” Now she was worried. “I’ll borrow Doctor Sampleton’s cart and head over to check if everything is alright.”

“Mrs.Smith says she saw her, yesterday,” said Mrs.Jackson. “Apparently, she came by very early in the morning, bought what she needed and went back home.”

“…She did?” whispered Victoria.

“She’s probably avoiding you,” said Mrs.Zhao, with her usual tact.

The familiar wave of guilt submerged Victoria. She had spent the last two weeks worrying, Natane’s terrified eyes haunting her dreams.

The conversation continued without her. She drank, miserable, wondering what she must have done to scare Natane away like that. Had she been too clingy? Too intrusive?

Mrs.Jackson’s voice brought her back to reality. “No, it’s not art , they’re showing their underwear to a bunch of strangers like the hussies they are.”

Mrs.Zhao elbowed Victoria. “Simone is calling you a hussy.”

Mrs.Jackson turned on her, betrayed. “You too? You’re taking part in this outrageous display?”

Victoria avoided her eyes and drank.

“What have they done to you?” Mrs.Jackson sighed. “You used to be respectable.”

“I’ve never been respectable and that didn’t stop you from being my friend,” noted Mrs.Zhao. “You’re righteous enough for all of us.”

Mrs.Jackson scoffed, but did not object. “Tell us about that depraved dance, then.”

“It’s not depraved, it’s French,” Victoria corrected with a small smile. “It sounds silly, just like that, but with Hualing’s dresses, and the four of us kicking at the same time, it looks quite impressive. The girls are running me ragged, though, with all that practice. Well, I am much more flexible now than I was before, at the very least. Consuelo says the goal is to kick a cowboy’s hat off his head. I’m not quite there yet.”

“You’re going to kill a man like that,” laughed Mrs.Zhao.

“Which is why I’m leaving it to them. Climbing on the bar would be dangerous enough.”

They both stared, incredulous. Victoria blushed.

“The idea has been shelved for now, but I’m sure they’ll find a way to profit from that. They’re very enterprising.”

“You’re going to fall and break your neck.”

Victoria blinked, innocently. “They say if I show enough thigh, the cowboys would trip over each other to catch me.”

Mrs.Zhao raised her cup in a toast, Victoria clinked it.

“Neither of you should show your face in church,” huffed Mrs.Jackson.

*

Victoria raised a shot of whisky. “Ready, girls?”

“Ready.”

They drank and slammed their glasses on the bar. Victoria checked her reflection in the big mirror, rearranged her breasts and the large ostrich feathers in her hair, and took a deep breath.

She could do this.

The girls opened the doors and she stepped out among cheers and whistles. The street was full of visiting cowboys with what must have been the entire town. Everyone was looking at her. It was incredibly strange, to be so undressed in public, but at the same time, she felt beautiful.

“Gentlemen!” she called with a smile. “Welcome to Victoria’s house !” She waited for the cheers to calm down. “I’m Mrs.Victoria, and these are my darling girls. Consuelo, Siobhan, and Lisette!”

They joined her on the porch, waving, winking, and throwing kisses.

“We have a special show for you tonight,” said Victoria. “A modern, exotic dance, the newest craze on the old continent, directly from Paris… the Cancan!”

More cheers from the men. The townspeople stood further back, some looking judgmental, but most of them curious. Mrs.Zhao hooted from her porch.

“Line-up, gentlemen, the entrance fee is ten cents!”

Siobhan shook an empty jar and stationed herself at the door. Consuelo and Lisette directed them, greeting them by name and started taking orders. Victoria, behind the bar, was quickly overwhelmed.

The first half-hour went by fast. Siobhan joined her to grab a tray of beers.

“They’re getting impatient. We done?”

“I think they’re all watered, for now,” said Victoria, looking around. “We’ve almost made as much as a regular night, and we’re just starting!”

Siobhan grinned like a shark. “That’s what I like to hear. Maybe we can transform this into a dance hall and never take clients again. That would be the dream.”

“Well, we need to dance, first. Get the girls.”

Victoria shook off her nerves and stepped on the low platform. There was a gradual hush, and then all the eyes were on her.

She realized she did not mind the staring when she was on stage. In fact, it gave her a thrill.

“Does everyone have a drink?” she called, to a resounding cheer. “Good! We are doing things a tad differently tonight. The upstairs rooms are closed for the evening—” groans and complaints, “now, now, gentlemen, you can always return tomorrow. My girls got all prettied up and prepared a show just for you!”

The girls flanked her. Next to the stage, Paul was adjusting the automatic piano.

“I must remind you to be nice!” she called. “We’re all here to have fun. And, if you don’t act like a gentleman to my girls, some of my guests will have a word with you. Everyone, say hi to Sheriff Buckley and Deputy Rogers!”

The Sheriff, sitting at a table near the door, waved. Next to him, the new Deputy raised his beer in acknowledgement. Victoria was still on tense terms with the Sheriff, but she was glad for his presence.

“Now, allow me to present, as a Swainsburg première, the French Cancan ! Hit it, Paul!”

The upbeat notes of Offenbach’s Galop Infernal filled the bar. Victoria grabbed her skirts, and danced.

Their show was simple. Most of it consisted in shaking the skirts, bouncing around with happy shouts, switching places, turning and twirling. They linked arms and did their kicking routine, something Victoria could now do in her sleep. Lift the skirts, bounce left, shake them more, bounce right, yell “Whoo!”, switch spots and kick some more. Victoria stayed away from the most acrobatic acts. Consuelo could jump and land in a split without a wince. Siobhan, who seemed to have no bones in her body, could raise her leg up to her head. Lisette had the most daring act; she ran and leaped off the stage, into Paul’s arms, who twirled her in the air and caught her with ease. The crowd loved it.

After a couple of songs, Victoria was growing breathless. She nodded at Lisette, who stepped off and walked up to Sheriff Buckley. To everyone’s surprise, he let himself be pulled on stage, chuckling at the girl’s attentions.

“Now, ladies, what are you going to do to me?”

“Hopefully, not decapitate you,” giggled Victoria, nervously.

His eyes popped open. “Now, Mrs.Montgomery, surely we’ve had our differences…”

“Stay very still,” said Lisette.

The music started again. Victoria did a couple of half-kicks to get the angle right and, leaning on Consuelo and Siobhan, kicked the hat off the Sheriff’s head.

The crowd went wild.

Sheriff Buckley burst out laughing, leaning on his knees in relief. “That was close. I swear that shoe grazed my nose.”

“Oh, thank God, I was so afraid to hit you,” Victoria laughed. “Come on, Sheriff, salute your public!” She grabbed his hand and bowed down, to everyone’s cheers.

“Well, wasn’t that something?” she shouted over the noise, flushed from the effort. “We hoped you enjoyed yourselves! Now, let’s party! Drinks are half-price for the next ten minutes!”

Victoria retreated once again behind the bar before anyone could step too close, and was immediately swamped. A line of thirsty cowboys formed, all of them with generous compliments and salacious offers.

She laughed it off, joked back, winked, called them endearments, like a seasoned pro.

She found that she did not mind the attention when there was a bar in between them. Paul’s presence nearby also helped calm her nerves.

“Victoria! Victoria, my love!” called a young man she recognized. “Run away with me, let’s get married!”

“Benjamin Smalls, I could be your mother,” she tutted, shooing him off with a towel. “I’m too old for you by far.”

“Noooo, you’re not too old, never too old. Oh, Victoria, you’re so pretty tonight, in your pretty white dress. Like a pretty dove.”

“A soiled dove, you mean. And it’s Mrs. Victoria, thank you very much.”

“Ooooh!” laughed his friends. “She’s teaching you manners!”

“Someone ought to, since your mothers apparently forgot to do so. Addressing a lady with such familiarity, honestly.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs.Victoria, please, don’t be mad! I’m so very, very sorry!”

“How can I stay mad at you?” she fluttered her eyelashes. “Now, here are your drinks. You boys go play over there; I have other people to serve. Scoot!”

“Can you be my mother instead?” called another one. “Can I at least call you mommy?”

“Shoo!” she chased them away with the towel.

They left, quickly replaced by Consuelo, who dropped her empty tray and leaned over the bar. She dug in the crack between her breasts and removed a handful of dollar bills. A load of coins also fell. She lifted her skirts and took money from her stockings and her shoes.

Victoria raised her eyebrows.

“Siobhan has great ideas,” smiled Consuelo.

“It works? They simply put money in your clothes?”

“Yes! That dress is incredible, we should give a cut to Mrs.Zhao. Look at my breasts, they look twice their size! Yours too, by the way.”

“So I’ve been told, several times,” she chuckled. “Here, I’ll put the money in the safe.”

“Hey Paul,” smiled Consuelo. “Thanks for agreeing to this, it was great! I can’t believe how easily you caught and twirled Lisette around!”

“She’s very light,” he shrugged. “Like a little mouse.”

“Are you staying, then? The bar isn’t too full?”

“Yeah, but I’m making sure no one bothers Mrs.Victoria.”

Consuelo’s smile was her real one, shy and a bit surprised. “You’re a treasure. If it gets too much, you can hide in the kitchen.”

She kissed him on the cheek and left with a full tray.

Victoria raised her eyebrows at her retreating back. Paul kept drinking in silence, stoic as always.

Lisette returned several times to unload her own money since, in her words, she was not gifted with a bottomless canyon.

“Why do so many of them have a thing about shoes?” she frowned, digging in the ankles of her pretty boots. “There’s a coin under my big toe and it’s been driving me crazy.”

“They seem to appreciate beautiful and delicate things,” said Victoria, filling another row of glasses. “Your shoes are particularly charming, with the little bows.”

“Aren’t they just the cutest?” she preened.

She left, and Consuelo came back. Victoria frowned. “Where’s Siobhan?”

“Playing poker, over there. Don’t look at me like that, she’s making a pretty penny.”

“Doing that thing where she memorizes all the cards?”

“…Yeah, probably.”

Victoria felt the familiar terror at the possibility of a man, let alone several, becoming angry. “Keep an eye on that table for me, will you? I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Consuelo immediately turned serious, and went back to her rounds. Victoria served a dozen clients and saw her stride back, frowning.

“You were right, the other guys at the table aren’t happy she’s winning so much. So far, she’s playing dumb, but it won’t last.”

“We need to get her out of there before it devolves. Can you subtly tell her she’s needed at the bar?”

“As if she would listen.”

Paul coughed. “I could get her.” He turned to Consuelo, a look in his eyes. “You can tell me to do it.”

“ Tell you?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

Consuelo stared at him for a moment, and slowly smiled. “Paul, go get my friend.”

He stood, towering like a mountain over the other patrons. He made his way through the tables and reached the one in the corner. The poker players blinked when he approached Siobhan.

“Hey Paul,” she said. “I can’t right now—”

“Miss Siobhan, very sorry about this.”

He grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder, skirts, ruffles, and feathers all astray. Siobhan shrieked in indignation. He walked back and sat her on the bar, hair and dress in disarray.

“How much for that one?” he asked, loudly enough to be heard by everyone.

A cowboy guffawed, which started the other ones, and then the entire bar was laughing at the “stupid blacksmith.” Soon enough, the men turned away. The ones at the poker table seemed mollified.

“What the fuck was that?” shrieked Siobhan.

“An extraction,” said Consuelo. “Don’t be mad at Paul, I told him to do it.”

“You need to be more careful,” said Victoria, rearranging the feathers and the unruly curls. “You can’t keep winning like that.”

“But it’s so easy!” she whined. “I don’t see why they don’t do it, too!”

“Not everyone has a head for numbers like yours, honey. Come on, give me what you have.”

Siobhan dug in her stocking and removed a wad of dollar bills. “Half of it is still on the table, though.”

“And we’re leaving it if we don’t want this night to turn into a brawl. Now come, grab a tray, your sisters are doing all the work.”

Victoria stopped herself, and blinked.

Consuelo and Siobhan went back to work without mentioning the slip.

Victoria placed a new beer in front of Paul. “Thank you, my dear.”

Some time later, while there was a lull at the bar, the Sheriff came over.

“Hello again, Mrs.Montgomery. That’s a mighty kick you got there.”

“I practised all week so I wouldn’t hit you in the face. The girls insisted it had to be you.”

“Well, thank you for missing my ugly mug. Everything alright, here?” he side-eyed Paul.

“Oh, yes! We had a scare, earlier, but Paul was a darling and helped us defuse the situation. He makes quite an impression!”

“That he does,” conceded the Sheriff, before raising his glass to Paul. “Mr. Mason, appreciate the help.” He turned back to Victoria, frowning. “Now, Mrs.Montgomery, I don’t want to stir up trouble, but I’ve been hearing that some shady person was lurking in your backyard. A man went to the outhouse and swears he saw— I’ll spare you the language, but I’m pretty sure it’s Mrs.Jackson’s boy.”

“James? But he hates crowds!”

“No, the other one.”

“David?”

“Yep. I know you’re friendly with his Ma, so you might want to check it out before it becomes more trouble.”

“I’ll go right now.” She flagged Siobhan to take over the bar and went to the kitchen. Both doors were open to let the fresh air in, but the men had to go the long way around to get to the outhouse.

It took her a moment to get used to the darkness of the night. There was a lamp near the latrine, its light barely reaching the clothesline and the bathtub.

“David?” she whispered.

A shadow moved in the alley between the brothel and Doctor Sampleton’s house. David left his hiding spot behind the carriage and approached the light from the kitchen, looking sheepish.

“Evening, Mrs.V. Sorry to interrupt your night.”

“David, what in all the heavens are you doing lurking in the dark? People have seen you, Sheriff Buckley had to warn me!”

“Is he… Is he going to arrest me?”

“On the contrary, he came to make sure you don’t get grabbed by one of our clients! What are you even doing on this side of the street?”

“Hum. It was. I just wanted to see Miss Lisette in her pretty dress,” he mumbled. “It’s stupid.”

“You’re right, it’s stupid,” said a cold voice behind Victoria.

Lisette stepped in the open door. Her lovely face was distorted with fury.

“You’re an idiot, David Jackson!”

“And you look incredible,” he said with awe.

Instead of her usual preening, she seemed to grow angrier. “Is that why you’re risking your life? For a peek at a pretty dress?”

“I would do anything for a glance at you, Lis—”

“Stop it!” she barked. “If any of these men gets cross with you, I’ll find you hanging from a tree! Don’t give them a reason!”

“But Lisette, I thought—”

“You didn’t think, idiot. You can’t be seen here. Leave.”

“Is that what you really want me to do?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “Stay on your side of the street, and don’t even look at me.”

He breathed in. “If that’s what you want.” And he walked away, dejected.

They went back to the kitchen and closed both doors.

“Sweetheart?” asked Victoria.

Lisette hid her face in her hands and muffled a long scream of anguish. Victoria held her while she sobbed big, ugly tears.

“Hush, hush, sweetie pie.”

“It’s so unfair,” she wailed. “He’s so stupid!”

“I know. Shhh.”

After a couple of minutes, Lisette stepped off, calmer. Victoria dipped a towel in water and started fixing her makeup. “Here, it’s leaking, you look awful.”

“Not true,” she pouted, getting her breath back under control. “...m’pretty.”

“The prettiest. Take your time, I have to go back. Will you be alright?”

“A lady can compose herself in moments,” she muttered back. Then, raising her voice, “A whore, too.”

Victoria kissed her brow and went back to the front. At the bar, both Siobhan and the Sheriff were waiting expectantly.

“It’s been dealt with,” she simply said.

“Good to know.” He grabbed a new beer and walked back to his table.

Victoria waved away Siobhan’s questions and threw herself into work. Lisette soon emerged from the kitchen with a huge grin and went to flirt with her regulars.

Victoria could not stop hearing her gut-wrenching sobs. She tried to focus on anything else, but to her frustration, she ended up thinking of Natane.

She wiped the counter, annoyed at herself. She had no time to dwell on their last meeting.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Benjamin Smalls and his friends, drunker and louder than before.

“Mrs.Victoria!” he chirped, swaying in place. “You’re back!”

“I was merely in the kitchen. Why are you all crowding my bar again? I can send a girl over to your table.”

“But she wouldn’t be you!” he sighed, happily. “There’s just a charm about mature women.”

She scrunched her nose while his friends laughed and toasted to mature women.

“I liked your dance,” he went on. “It was pretty.”

“Your underwear is pretty!” shouted one of his friends.

“Shut your mouth!” Benjamin Smalls elbowed him, hard, in the gut. “You don’t talk like that to a lady!”

“She’s a whore, though—”

“Shut your fucking mouth—”

“Benjamin!” she stretched over the bar to place a hand on his arm. “Benjamin, please, look here. Look at me.” He stared at her through a drunken haze. “You are so sweet for defending my honour, Benjamin, but I need you to stay calm, alright? I don’t want a brawl in my bar. Here, drink this, it’s on the house.”

She served him a sarsaparilla, which he downed without realizing it wasn’t whisky.

“Thank you, my dear. You’re my grand protector.”

“...m’gonna marry you.” He nodded, resolutely.

“You keep telling yourself that. Here, have one more.”

While he drank, one of his friends leaned over. “Hey, hey, Mrs.Victoria, there was this town where I went to, once, and the girls, they danced the cancan, like you, but on the bar !”

“You should try that!” shouted another.

“And break my neck?” she scoffed. “No, thank you! We have a perfectly decent stage for that.”

“But it would be so… so…” slurred Benjamin Smalls.

“We could see your underpants!” shouted another.

“You’ve already seen them, silly boys.”

Siobhan walked by and made the money gesture with her fingers. Victoria winced internally. She had hoped the girls would not hear that specific discussion. She sighed.

“Boys,” she tutted. “You can’t just ask a whore to do something. You have to pay for it, it’s the rules.”

“You’re going to dance on the bar if we pay you?” asked Benjamin Smalls, delighted.

“I will stand on the bar, and nothing more.”

“How much?”

“How much do you have on you, dear boy?”

There were immediately a dozen bills in front of her face. She could spot a five.

Feeling powerful, she batted her eyelashes. “That is far from enough. I am, after all, a lady .”

Benjamin Smalls turned and shouted over the noise. “Everybody shut up! Shut up! Mrs.Victoria is going to stand on the bar if we give her enough money!”

People started digging in their pockets. The girls passed with mason jars to collect it all.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Consuelo, putting her full jar behind the counter.

“Not at all. But I am a woman of my word.”

Lisette brought a step-stool from the kitchen. Consuelo started a drum roll, quickly followed by everyone else. The entire building shook.

Victoria grabbed Paul’s hand and climbed, awkwardly. A wave of vertigo stopped her halfway. She bit her nerves back and fully stood up.

The screams were deafening. She laughed, full of nerves and excitement. This was the most ridiculous thing she had ever done in her entire life. She bowed a little and shook her skirts, her other hand grabbing Paul’s for dear life. Her feet, though, on their delicate heels, stayed glued to the bar.

“My darlings!” she calmed them down. “You have been an incredible public! Thank you for coming to our show, and thank you for being nice to my girls!”

“You’ve got nice underwear, Mrs.Victoria!” shouted someone.

She laughed, lifted the skirt to show a bit of leg to make it worth their money, and everyone started yelling again.

“Mrs.Victoria, marry me!”

“Now, dear boy, we already had that discussion tonight—”

“She’s already married!” shouted someone from the back.

She froze. No.

“That’s my fucking wife !”