The Whitechapel Virgin Page 10

  Young Catherine is a fine and pleasing young nymph who smiles with enchanting grace, and surprisingly possesses a good set of teeth. She lies here before me as a wanton goddess, and she appears well capable of seeing to these matters of undressing without too much prompting. A small sherry or two will give her a little encouragement.

  Without ado she quickly peels aside the upper section of her frock to reveal two snowy orbs. Pert little things they quickly escape from her bodice and appear so smooth that one can only anticipate the pleasure of their touch. Inviting as these are I refrain from making a vulgar leap, and I confess, my eyes are not drawn to her rosy cheeks when she goes on willingly to reveal many more of her immaculate purities down below.

  I am greatly aroused by the fact that that this tender young flesh has never before been devoured by greedy eyes. Slim doughy thighs lead to a small triangle unfathomed and concealed. Here my eyes rest in rapture. Her small chest rises and falls expectantly as she bears a delicate expression of playful initiation. I predict she will be wild as a goat.

  Oh how she seems willing to have me enter her rooms. And how I wish to dive into the vast ocean of pleasure she has laid before me, but my quest to keep a timely constitution, despite my lustful anticipation, rides higher than the burning swell of my groin. I pray that she and I will very soon move through some new and unchartered fields of pleasure, where I will steer and she, my new Venus, will cast away her honour and admit herself to the joys of love.”

  ‘My that is positively devilish. How on earth did you resist?’

  ‘Do we like?’ said Cross.

  ‘Not half, shall we meet next time at yours?’

  Cross snatched the diary from his companion’s grasp and tucked it away in his coat.

  ‘Tut tut, she is mine,’ he warned with a playful sneer. ‘And I should remind you that you are well spoken for.’

  Thomson rolled his eyes. ‘No need for a reminder, and you never were good at sharing were you? What you will do with her, I cannot wait to find out. I feel you are going to make a mint on this publication, I’m almost half tempted to invest my soul in it.’

  ‘If you ever had one,’ Cross jeered.

  A bell rang overhead as the two gentlemen stood up and donned their hats to exit the establishment.

  Cross, buffed up by his friend’s sexual fervour, decided not to return straight home but to chance another visit at the Boars Tavern.

  He consulted his watch. There was still time, the establishment was far from closing. All that talk of bedding waif-like virgins made him feel lustful again; his desire to play with the young beauty within had uncomfortably stretched the seam of his pants. A sudden wave of happiness descended upon him, possibly aided by the extra dose of laudanum he’d ingested earlier that evening.

  He bid his friend farewell, inwardly pitying him. Since Thomson’s surly and impotent wife had caught him with his pants down in bed with a whore a year ago, he had been left shamed enough to curtail his extra-marital activities. All he had now were the lusty third party glimpses of pleasure within the pages of Cross’s diary.

  He stepped onto the pavement narrowly avoiding a pile of freshly laid horse manure. A small beggar he took for a haggard old crone rushed towards him, but then he saw it was just a small child without flesh on its thin bones. The scent omitted from the wretch made the Thames seem delectably fragrant.

  ‘Got a ha’penny mister?’

  Cross hesitated then spun a shilling to its feet, hurrying on quickly before an entire hoard of the stunted dwarves suddenly arrived to scratch the skin off his limbs.

  Energised by his fiery intentions he hurried through the low lying mist until he finally reached the tavern, where his gaze rested on the inviting light within. But to his utter disappointment the door was firmly locked shut.

  He peered inside the blackened window and saw that the room was heaving with customers, though Catherine Bell was nowhere in sight.

  The raging fire inside his pants became quickly snuffed out and he sharply turned away.

  He would just have to suffer the terrible drollness of his own company that evening, but he would surely return again to joyously satisfy himself with every inch of her.

  * * *

  Catherine stood in front of Madame Davenport chewing at her lower lip. All day she had fretted over her initial encounter with Mr Cross, desiring to know why he had not taken her as any lady would have expected from such a meeting.

  But to question a man like that was considered improper, she would not dare to, though she was certain that something that evening had gone very wrong, for why otherwise would he sit so far from the bed and simply draw her?

  She could only surmise that he was an artist, and she, his muse, and she could imagine that those class of people always had plenty of funds to indulge in their artistry. When one looked properly at the situation, they might even ask her how on earth she would think it necessary to lodge a complaint, for she had not wanted him to bed her as a lodging-house whore from the outset. If he had chosen her as his drawing subject, willing to part with a good percentage for the privilege, she ought to be more than grateful. But now as she stood before the Madame she decided to say nothing of the events which had transpired, for the Madame’s austere expression was off-putting enough.

  ‘So how well did he receive you Catherine, did all go according to plan?’

  ‘Yes Madam, it did.’

  ‘Good girl, did he arrange a subsequent appointment?’

  ‘No, Madame, not yet.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Davenport’s expression stiffened. ‘Well I daresay he will be back soon enough. ‘Why don’t you wear something a little more revealing this evening in case he stops by. I shall have Lydia help you dress.’

  Catherine nodded obediently and turned to leave

  ‘Oh, wait Miss Bell. On second thoughts, remain as you are. We do not wish to entice other men to your skirts at present, Mr Cross appears to like you as you are. Better that we keep him sweet dear child.’

  Briefly cupping her hand to Catherine’s chin she smiled and satisfactorily led her young new employee to the door.

  FIFTEEN

  There was a knock at the door just as Annie was stepping into her underwear, almost causing her to stumble to the floor.

  ‘Oh who is it?’ she cried out. ‘Me gout’s playing up on me leg today.’

  There was a short silence before the knock came again.

  ‘Answer it Annie,’ Nellie murmured from the bed.

  Annie padded over to Nellie with her bloomers still gathered at her ankles and whispered close to her face.

  ‘Don’t worry Nell, I won’t let him in if that’s podgy fella who you still owe a few favours too.’

  Nellie smiled at her friend gratefully. The mere thought of entertaining a man made her feel nauseous. So far none of her regulars had been asking for her, but she did owe quite a few visits.

  It was midday and she had only just returned from the local infirmary earlier that morning. The worst of the bleeding had stopped and the doctor had given her an elixir to help with the pain. She was now given orders to put her legs up, rest and recuperate for at least five days and Annie had been at her side as much as possible.

  The knock on the door came again.

  Annie rolled her eyes. ‘Bleedin’ visitors, can’t they leave a sick woman in peace?’

  ‘Oh, just answer it, Annie, it’s probably the maid or Eddie with a delivery.’

  When Annie opened the door her expression fell at the sight of a very sheepish looking Catherine Bell.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked, coldly.

  ‘I just wanted to say that I heard about Nellie being taken ill and I would like to wish her well.’

&nb
sp; Annie felt anger well up inside her. Why should this girl bother Nellie? Ever since she’d arrived she’d got the best position and the best customer, and seemed to care little about anything else.

  She opened her mouth to send her packing but Nellie’s voice emerged as a small croak in the background.

  ‘Who is it Annie?’

  ‘It’s the new girl. Come to visit you.’

  ‘Let her in then.’

  She stood back a few paces to let Catherine inside where the girl took a few tentative steps within the door frame and settled her gaze at Nellie.

  ‘Miss Hunt, I only wished to say that I am sorry for your illness. I came only to tell you that I wish you a swift recovery.’

  ‘Who told you Nellie was sick?’ Annie cut in sharply.

  Annie resented the idea that someone was feeding the girl with gossip and telling her what was going on in their lives. As far as she was concerned she wanted the meddlesome girl to know nothing about their business or to come snooping into their quarters.

  ‘Eddie informed me yesterday.’

  ‘Ah of course, and what else did he say? Did he mention that he fancied ya too?’ She gave a derisive little snort and looked at Nellie who was trying with great difficulty to prop herself up against the pillows.

  Catherine remained silent.

  ‘That’s it, go on then! Go back to your serving counter and wait for your fancy man to make another appearance, why don’t ya?’

  Nellie looked up, grunting painfully at the effort of moving her body. ‘Annie, she just came to say...’ but Annie had already slammed the door behind the girl.

  ‘Yes Nell, I know she only made a courtesy visit, but that’s cause Eddie must have told her to. Not because your welfare bothers her in the slightest, has it ever bothered her before?’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh, Annie.’

  Walking over to the bed, Annie sat heavily at the edge. ‘Listen to me, Nell. She just wants to gain popularity. Ain’t been here long and she’s already got regular custom. I saw her leaving to meet him last night too so she ain’t no bloody serving girl anymore. We have to watch her back or she’ll leave us all with no work.’

  Nellie sighed. She had long grown tired of the jealous bickering at the lodging house. Ever since she’d been blamed for the death of Eddie’s mother, she had wanted to leave the lodging house but had never managed to get out of the rotten place to find anything better.

  Over the years many had come and gone, as Annie seemed hellbent on bullying the new girls. She loved her friend dearly, but by now had grown weary of her controlling ways.

  ‘Don’t you remember when we came here together Annie? We were young, hopeful and full of fancy dreams. How we wanted to meet that dandy gentleman that would fall in love with us and whisk us away somewhere nice and clean, where we don’t have to raise our skirts in the back of a rat infested alley.

  We wanted that so bad we tried it on with as many men as we could, just in case one of ‘em fell for us. So don’t forget that we were young once, and we got a bit of stick from some of the older women here too back then.’

  Annie grunted. ‘I know Nell, but this is different.’

  ‘Why is it different?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling about Catherine Bell. Like she’ll be the ruin of us all.’

  In the hallway, Catherine moved her ear away from the door. Wiping tears from her eyes she entered her own quarters and closed the door gently behind her.

  * * *

  The Christchurch bells pealed loudly across Whitechapel. Across the street several boys with soot-covered hands and cheeks jeered loudly as they played hopscotch over the cobbles.

  Catherine hurried along the street, eyes stinging from the tears she had shed after hearing the hurtful words poured forth from Annie Barton’s mouth.

  It was a painful and intentional snub, when her only intention had been to wish Nellie well. Now she was determined to find alternative employment as soon as possible for it was obvious that the women would never accept her there, and nor could she even attract a single gentleman to love her, let alone bed her.

  She would start with the factory over at Hanbury Street. There she would speak with the foreman and beg for any kind of a position no matter what it entailed.

  Anything was better than being unwanted.

  The imposing stone building was guarded by a tall iron gate and she hovered there uncomfortably for a few moments until a gentleman tipped his hat and stopped to ask her what her business was.

  ‘I am looking for the foreman, if you please. I have come to seek employment.’

  The man placed a finger on his whiskery chin and leaned forward on his barrel pensively.

  ‘Aye well, Mr Hogsworth is away and won’t be due back for a week, but I could always put in a word for you missy and deliver any news, where is your dwelling?’

  Catherine bit her lip. ‘No matter, I will return again in the near future. Thank you kind sir.’

  He tipped his cap, picked up his barrel and moved on.

  She cursed herself on her return. She had been unable to tell him that she resided at the Boars lodging house, or even think to have him deliver any news to her there.

  For one, she might not be around when he did and any one of the women could receive a message. Madame Davenport could get to hear and would ask all sorts of questions.

  Disappointed with her ill luck she cut through a side street choosing to take a different route back to the lodging house. Towards the end of a narrow nest of lanes she spotted an inviting bakery, and decided to purchase a small loaf and a tiny spoon of jam to lift her spirits. Perhaps Eddie was around and could share a slice with her.

  She hadn’t yet seen him since he had acted so childishly again the other day. But surely his anger must have cooled by now? It irked her that he continued to act so possessively but she could not forget or ignore the fact that he had been helpful to her, securing her a job when she most needed one. And for that she would always be grateful to him.

  The smell of freshly baked loaves, pickled delights and sweet treats tantalised her senses as she stepped inside. A little bell tinkled above her head and a warm smile from a dark-haired woman greeted her.

  ‘Good morning miss, ‘ow can I help you? Ooh it’s a new customer. Welcome. Haven’t seen you in this part of town before miss.’

  Feeling mildly uncomfortable Catherine decided to be honest with her circumstances and let the wheels of fortune play their own part.

  ‘Good day. I am fairly new to this part of the city. I’ll take a small loaf and serving of orange jam, please’

  ‘Ah, no wonder I ain’t seen ya around before,’ the kind looking lady replied. Catherine liked her immediately. It was nice to speak to a friendly new face. The woman packed away the items in a paper bag with gentle care.

  ‘I hope you’ve found some employment then?’ she said ringing up the till.

  ‘Yes. I currently work as a serving girl at the Boars Tavern.’

  The woman stopped for a moment and raised her eyebrows.

  ‘The tavern over at Goulston Street?’

  ‘Yes, but I am just a serving girl there,’ she stammered awkwardly.

  ‘I worked at the Boars a couple of years ago. Had me a few problems so I left. You look very young too, how old are ya?’

  Catherine reached into her purse and handed over the coins, avoiding the woman’s gaze. ‘I am sixteen and if I am honest, would much rather seek employment elsewhere.’

  The brunette smiled broadly. ‘I tell you what, why don’t you come and meet me for a cuppa some day? We can have a chat, and since you’re new around here I’ll see if I can advise ya.’

  Cat
herine relaxed her shoulders. ‘I would very much like that. What about tomorrow?’ she found herself asking imprudently. ‘I have the afternoon to myself.’

  The woman laughed. ‘Well why not. I’ll be off duty at around four when we close up. I’ll meet ya down the road at The White Swan for a cup of tea and you’ll be tasting the best scones this side of London.’

  Catherine smiled. ‘I will be here, thank you so much for your kindness.’

  ‘Oh, no need to mention it. Me name’s Lizzie by the way, enjoy your floury loaf.’ She gave a little wave as Catherine opened the door to the street.

  SIXTEEN

  When Catherine arrived at the lodging house she was shocked to find the main room bustling with activity. The tables had been re-arranged for some sort of celebration.

  Annie was standing on a stool hanging red papery flowers to the rafters. Tilly was busy sorting barrels of ale behind the serving counter, and she spotted Eddie throwing bundles of coal onto the hearth at the back of the room.

  On a table sat a square marzipan cake with cream frosting and cherries decorated along the top. An indulgence rarely witnessed in the tavern, and it seemed as though they were expecting visitors. She walked over to Tilly to find out the reason for the commotion.

  ‘Oh it’s just Nancy Putt coming back for a visit after marrying the local costermonger’s son, Roger. She left us not long before you arrived and she’s popping by today with a few acquaintances after her honeymoon period.

  ‘Is she nice? It seems she is popular here,’ Catherine asked. It felt nice to know that at least someone was liked at the lodging house.

  ‘Oh Nancy is an angel. Everyone loves her, we all cried when she left, we always do when someone manages to fall in love and make a better life for themselves out there.’

  ‘I suppose I had better stay upstairs out of the way then,’ Catherine replied picking up her paper bag.

  ‘Oh no you won’t. You’re living here too now so you’ll meet her and join in with the celebrations. You’ll like Nancy.’