London's Calling. Elysabeth Williams

      The front door closed with a clunk, almost pushing Delilah into the hotel. The lobby lights were low, as she expected them to be at this time of night. One lone man sat behind a counter, slumped over an open book propped on his stomach. The echoes of his snores vibrated off the darkly paneled walls of the empty room.

      Delilah approached him and cleared her throat, trying to delicately wake the gentleman. He snorted loud enough that Delilah jumped backward a step. Unfortunately, it didn’t wake him and he settled back into a regular rhythm of snores. Pursing her lips, she scanned the counter. Her gaze caught on a brass desk bell directly in front of the man. She hovered her hand over it, and between snores, she smacked the push button of the bell as hard as she could.

      The ding was ear piercing. With a something akin to a snort and a yelp, the man threw his book in the air and fell off the stool into a flailing heap on the floor. Delilah caught the book on its descent and glanced at the pages while the man righted himself. She was somehow not surprised when she focused in on a black and white photograph of a lovely woman lying on a chaise lounge, completely naked.

      “Oh! I do apologize for my inattentiveness.” He fumbled to stand and gasped as he saw her looking at the book. He tried to snatch it from her hands but Delilah grinned and took a step sideways as she flipped through pages, enjoying the moment too much. He cleared his throat and pulled down on the lapels of his vest to straighten them. Jutting out his chin to put off an air of authority, he sniffed at her silent refusal to give back the book. Delilah had to stifle a laugh as she watched his overgrown mustache waggle on his face like a walrus’ whiskers.

      She closed the book and placed it gently on the counter. “Sir, I am looking for accommodations for the evening. Could you be so kind as to assist me?”

      He blinked and stammered, grabbing the book and shoving it under the counter. He pulled out a leather bound ledger and thumbed through the pages, skimming over a list of names and room numbers.

      “Yes, yes of course. I have a room available.” He turned the ledger around on the counter to face Delilah and handed her a pen. “Please just sign your name on this blank line and I will call the bellboy to help you with your things.”

      Unease at the offer filled her stomach as she glanced at the rolling luggage behind her. Though he hadn’t recognized her, Delilah had no doubt he would if he or someone else were to see her nameplate on it. Given his reading material, it was certain he’d figure out her employer, or rather, previous employer. She dismissed his help with a wave. “No worries there, sir. I don’t wish to cause any fuss at this late hour. If you can just show me the way, I’ll be glad to settle in myself.” Delilah looked at the register before her and paused. The empty line waited for her name, and again, she wondered if she should be truthful with her identity.

      The clerk frowned. “Is there a problem?”

      “Oh no, sorry. I was just preoccupied for a moment.” She swallowed hard and scribbled a random name across the ledger. With a tense smile, she handed the pen back to its owner. He returned the smile and placed the instruments back under the counter.

      The clerk rounded the edge of the desk and led the way to the waiting lift. She followed him into the elevator and they rode silently to the second floor. He slid open the wrought iron gate and held a hand out to let Delilah exit first. Gripping her luggage handle tightly, she exited into the dim lit hall and waited for the man to show her the way. As she watched him fumble through a large ring of door keys, she noticed a man meandering down the hall to the right of the elevator. The sight of him wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary. He was a sharply dressed gentleman having apparently just returned from a night out on the town. Still in a black tuxedo and shiny black top hat, he dragged his right foot slightly behind him. As if noticing her unintentional stare, he stopped his uneasy gait and twisted his head toward her on his shoulders like an owl. She shuddered involuntarily. His face was pallid–the skin stretched tight over his skull. His eyes were a bit wild and glassy, and when he smiled, the sight of a mouthful of blackened, rotted teeth caused Delilah to jerk her head away from him to keep from screaming.

      Distracted with the image of the man in her mind, she took a few steps away to put distance between them. Unfortunately, the clerk hadn’t yet moved and she ran straight into his back. The keys shot out of his hands and onto the burgundy Oriental rug. Delilah felt the heat rush to her cheeks in embarrassment and stumbled over him and out of the way, trying to get out of the corner of the hallway where she’d encountered the man. The clerk clamored for the keys, sputtering pardons and apologies while Delilah glanced over her shoulder. The man was now gone, but she could swear she could hear his dragging foot on the carpet where she could not see. Her stomach turned and she became overheated.

      “Are we almost there, sir?” She pulled a clean handkerchief from her pocket with a pause to recall the one she’d handed over to the man outside, and dabbed her forehead with it, a cold sweat popping to her skin. They had not taken more than ten steps down the hall from the elevator, yet Delilah just wished to put a few walls in between the stranger and herself. Irrational her feelings may be, but her desire to flee the area was still raging through her veins.

      “Yes we are, madam,” he said, holding up a slender nickel colored key with much enthusiasm, totally oblivious to her unease. He unlocked and opened the door, pausing to turn on an electrical switch. A glass-beaded lamp on a side table dimly lit the room. Modest accommodations, yes, but given the circumstances, Delilah breathed a sigh of relief. The clerk handed over the key and bowed at the waist as he backed out the door with parting words. “I shall leave you to rest. There will be breakfast served promptly at six. Checkout is at noon and payment will be expected then unless you plan to stay longer. Have a good evening…er, rest of the evening.” His mustache rose with a derisive sniff as he closed the door.

      Delilah closed and bolted the door, latched the chain, and pressed her back against it. Safe at last?

      She glanced over the room. It was sparse, but at least it was better than the cot in her dressing room of Miss Merriweather's, or worse, the street. She pitched her reticule on the side table and her luggage on the bed to rifle through the contents in search of her nightgown. The sooner she could get sleep, the better.

      While changing clothes, she briefly went over the happenings of the evening. The flash of flesh, the firing, the fight, the farewells…the man in the alley… She smiled at that as she pulled the gown over her head. Hoping he found his way home safe, Delilah recalled his stunning eyes and easy grin, even on the face of someone recently accosted.

      The memory of his warm smile soon triggered that of the rotted black teeth she’d seen in the hallway not moments before. Her heart raced and she glanced again to the door to make sure it was bolted. Wrapping her arms around herself to avoid the involuntary shudder, she walked the room to make sure there were no other doors that would need to be attended. Finding it secure, she returned to the bed and lay down. Only then did she realize how exhausted she really was.

      Pulling the covers to her neck, she let her eyelids flutter shut and began to cobble together a plan of what to do in the morning. Heading north, perhaps to the country was a viable option. It was possible she could gain employ at a manor house as a cook or some such. It wasn't as amazing or exciting as the life on stage, but it obviously was time to change her career path. Though generally unskilled at most things domestic, she couldn’t let inexperience stop her from at least trying.

      She opened her eyes briefly to glance at the clock on the table and cringed, seeing it was well past three in the morning. Three hours of sleep until breakfast. She closed her eyes again and tried to erase the daunting thought of life changing plans with the more pleasant