The Whitechapel Virgin Read online

  This was his life and blood work.

  SIX

  ‘Just one more round of sweeping and you’ll be done,’ said Tilly, as Catherine returned with her dustpan filled to the brim with broken glass and bits of dirt. She tipped it all into a bucket and sighed.

  ‘What’s up wiv ya this afternoon, you don’t half look the worse for wear.’

  Catherine shrugged. ‘Oh it’s nothing, I have had trouble sleeping this past fortnight. I suppose I am still unused to the routine.’

  Tilly cackled. ‘Late nights, up at the crack of dawn, and fingers raw as cabbage? Well no-one ever promised it’d be easy work, been doing it for years and me back caved in long ago. That’s one of the reasons why Davenport put me in this position instead of out there gallivanting round the streets, but I can’t really say it ever improved my back condition.’

  Catherine offered a sympathetic smile. ‘If I am honest Tilly, last night I felt very disheartened after hearing so many tales of woe.’

  Tilly gazed upwards. ‘Ah yes, I’ve heard ‘em all. The broken homes, mischievous wives and unrequited loves. More than one sorry tale has been passed around this tavern over the years. It’s good for the punters to offload their steam, but for us lot, it’s all part of the job.’

  It wasn’t that Catherine despised the job, she was wholly grateful for it, and it had to be done in order to afford the dreary room in which she slept in for just a few hours each night.

  But despite the heavy toil and labour, she found there were a few positive things about living at the lodging house. Eddie, for one, spoke with her often. She was always pleased when he appeared to converse with her in-between his errands as she scrubbed the charred pots and pans in the kitchen.

  They mostly spoke about mundane topics but he always seemed content to see her, even when he looked tired and drawn and she could see that he’d been wearing himself down to the bone on long deliveries and lifting heavy sacks onto his back.

  Just as she had been thinking about him that morning he strolled straight into the tavern bearing a cheerful smile and whistling a merry tune. He wore a grey cloth cap and carried a pink carnation in his hand.

  Tilly, having spotted him first, nudged and winked at Catherine teasingly.

  ‘I thought you might like this for your room,’ Eddie grinned, swinging onto a high stool and placing the flower on the counter in front of Catherine.

  ‘Plucked straight out of Mrs Carson’s shrubbery was it?’ Tilly joked.

  Eddie pulled a face and all three of them laughed.

  Catherine put down the glass she had been polishing and picked up the carnation to inhale its subtle scent.

  ‘Thank you, Eddie, that is very thoughtful of you,’ she smiled, cautiously aware of her own cheeks flushing pink.

  ‘I am free for an hour, would you like to take a stroll to the local park?’ he asked.

  Catherine smiled humbly.

  How can I refuse him?

  Clearly, the man was becoming infatuated and no matter how much she wished to be honest in saying that she preferred not to encourage him romantically, she found she could not utter the words.

  ‘That would be very pleasant,’ she replied, turning her head to see Tilly smiling at them both like a mother doting on her sweet young children.

  ‘Well go on then you two, I’ll finish clearing up here. Bring her back before the mad rush of customers arrive, won’t ya Eddie?’

  ‘I will,’ he promised, jumping off the stool.

  Catherine donned her shawl and a simple straw bonnet which Tilly let her borrow, and together they walked outside where the sun was high and bright within a rare, almost cloudless blue summer sky.

  Eddie wasted no time in asking Catherine how she had been getting on at the tavern.

  ‘Is Tilly being patient with you?’

  ‘Oh yes, she has been very helpful and kind to me. I was so very clumsy at first, breaking glasses and stumbling over barrels of ale. I think she could easily have sent me away, but instead she has persisted in guiding me. I cannot complain.’

  They reached the park and Eddie slid open a gate for them to enter, his strong muscles flexing in the sunlight.

  Inside, the gatekeeper was sweeping the ground and looked disgruntled as a group of small children circled him, kicking up the mounds of leaves and hay he had collected into a neat pile.

  ‘Tilly had been complaining frequently about the lack of assistance at the tavern. It looks like you arrived here at just the right time.’

  Catherine knew that much was true. The work was tough, but Tilly was patient and kind to her, showing her how to keep everything orderly and tidy. There was a lot of sweeping and dusting and polishing glasses or bending low to empty all the crates, and of course, the never-ending surge of drinkers each day. It was back-breaking work and Catherine wondered how Tilly had managed it alone.

  After a fortnight of working at the tavern Madam Davenport had enquired upon her progress. Catherine had been summoned to her office to stand rigidly in front of the severe woman.

  She had crossed her fingers tightly behind her back and prayed for the woman to show some small degree of compassion, but Madame Davenport was a woman who seemed to possess little if no softness in her heart at all as she viewed Catherine with a critical glare.

  Nonetheless, she was extremely relieved when Madame decided that she could work with Tilly for a couple of more weeks before she would begin work servicing men; and then promptly dismissed her.

  ‘I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it is tough work,’ she said honestly. ‘My hands have become quite chapped and sore.’

  She felt embarrassed at the sight of the raw skin on her fingers and tried to hide her hands in the folds of her skirt.

  ‘Huh, you should see my hands,’ said Eddie.

  He held them up in front of her to reveal the hardened skin and criss-crossed lines of scars running in patterns along the back.

  ‘Does that hurt?’ she asked.

  ‘It doesn’t hurt any longer, it used to though, but I’m long past the stage of bleedin’ knuckles.’

  ‘What sort of fighting sport is it that you do?’ she enquired, remembering how he mentioned some type of active sport as a hobby.

  ‘Boxing. Over at Pickford’s warehouse, and I’ve not lost a fight yet. There’s at least five of us regular’s and we all train together. Sometimes we enter competitions and punters come to take their bets on which one of us’ll get knocked down first. It’s fun for them to watch me knock out every one of them,’ he grinned and proudly threw a hard punch at the air.

  ‘You could always come and watch us train sometime.’

  She smiled, but shook her head. The thought of seeing angry men fighting with each other for entertainment made her feel queasy.

  They approached the edge of the river. Debris and muck floated along its surface and a few ducks playfully hopped on and off the muddy embankment. They stood and watched the scene together. Not far in the distance they could see London Bridge and the buildings of Westminster standing tall and majestically proud in the distance.

  ‘Could this be the best view in all of London city?’ Eddie asked.

  Catherine might have agreed if the stench from the river wasn’t so putrid whenever the air happened to blow in their direction.‘I should like to see much more of London, it is such a large city, my own little street was not much of an interesting sight.’

  ‘Oh there’s much more to see than you’d ever know. The women at the lodging house think I haven’t seen anything, but they’d be wrong. I’ve seen things that would make you faint with shock.’

  She caught a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  ‘So where have you travelled
to then?’ she asked, curiously.

  ‘Ah that would be telling,’ he teased. ‘But I’ll show you some grand places around the city some day. Some amazing sights that you’d not likely forget in a hurry.’

  They walked on and paused beneath the shady branches of an elm. A young mother with her small babe in a stroller stopped a few yards away to check on her child. Silently they sat on a public bench for a moment to draw in the view.

  Catherine tried to relax and enjoy the rare opportunity of this pleasurable outing that had been afforded to her, but suddenly became consumed with guilt about the lie she had told concerning her age. She had only just turned fifteen years a few weeks before arriving at the tavern, surprising even herself that she had uttered the wrong age to Madame Davenport.

  It seemed silly to do it at the time, but once the lie was out, there was no taking it back. Feelings of guilt occasionally swamped her over the matter because Eddie had been kind enough to find her a position, but she hadn’t wanted any of them to think she was too young to work there.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as she caught sight of Annie strolling past a row of hedgerows with a basket of Rosemary and Jasmine in her arm, most likely returning to the lodging house after a visit to the flower market.

  Disappointingly, Annie had made it obvious that she wanted very little to do with Catherine, making it apparent that she resented her presence at the lodging house, and so Catherine tried to keep out of her way as much as she could. Once or twice Nellie had tried to communicate with Catherine, but Annie had taken her arm and whisked her away before Catherine had time to reply.

  ‘Perhaps Annie will accept my presence soon,’ she muttered under her breath as she glared at the murky reflection of the boats on the river.

  Eddie cocked his head towards her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She avoids me, I don’t know what I have done so terribly wrong to upset her.’

  ‘She’ll come round, her bark is much worse than her bite, believe me.’

  ‘Has she been at the lodging house all her life?’

  ‘For a good two thirds of it, I would say. She lost her husband at a young age so there was no-one to provide for her, and she never did seem to want to take on a new husband.’

  ‘And how do you find her character?’ she asked, piqued with curiosity.

  Eddie spat a chewed leaf to the ground.

  ‘I find her much the same as all the others there. Women are all alike. They can’t do much more than nag at you day and night.’

  Catherine pulled a face, and Eddie’s grin widened.

  ‘Oh but you’re not quite old enough to be nagging at me yet, Miss Bell,’ he teased, and Catherine was once again reminded of the little lie she had uttered about her age.

  She wanted them to believe she was mature, and not afraid to work hard, and if serving men was the last resort to earning some kind of a living, then she would hold her head up proudly and make the best of it. Though the idea of letting men have their way with her both frightened her and made her feel ever more curious about the other women who lived there.

  Eddie never seemed to bat an eyelid when he spoke of them, as used to their common antics as he must indeed be.

  ‘Are there many girls who choose to work for Madame Davenport?’

  ‘Not as many as there once was. Mary Chappell left a couple of years ago with some foreign chap, and there are two young French women who stop by for a few months every year. Madame dislikes them but they have some very strange but well paying acquaintances who like to watch them gorge on English pies.’

  Catherine giggled.

  ‘Then there are the occasional girls who stop by the area to try out the local street trade, and of course there is Nellie and Annie who have been here the longest and it is the only home they have ever really known.’ He looked up pensively. ‘Oh, and I nearly forgot about Betsy Miller who ran off with a prominent minister’s son last August.’ He laughed aloud. ‘That was quite the scandal.’

  The park keeper strolled past eyeing them both oddly. Eddie tipped his cap.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t seem to appear very busy with women working for Madame at the moment, if that is the case,’ Catherine mused.

  ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘And I think that Madame Davenport is feeling the pinch with the recent lack of girls working for her. Funds are low and any willing girls that come along with good assets, well she’ll be very keen to take them on board or things could get very bad.’

  ‘Bad? How so?’ she persisted in asking, wanting to learn more about the establishment and its inhabitants.

  ‘Well there are a few local committees and groups that have formed who want to clean up the streets and do away with the trade altogether. If there are too many complaints, or too little customers either way the tavern and lodging house could be shut down forever.’

  ‘But it is your home too isn’t it?’

  His face grew sombre. ‘The lodging house is where I was raised. I’d not go so far as to call it a home. Anyway, my advice to you is not to fret too much about the other women there, they’ll get used to you being around. Hopefully, Madame won’t put any pressure on you to join them, it’s good that you’re working with Tilly. Plus you’ve got me to look out for you now haven’t you?’

  The intensity of his gaze unnerved her. She was convinced she saw a spark of possessiveness there. Very soon Madame Davenport would expect her to work with the others, and she could see no way of escaping the prospect unless she packed her belongings and returned back to the streets, which would also mean risking arrest and a prompt delivery to the local workhouse.

  There would be no point in telling Eddie that her position as a serving girl would soon come to an end either. It seemed better to deal with it when the time came. Why upset him now? Though judging by the way he was now watching her so intensely, she began to worry that her involvement with other men might anger him.

  Surely it was best to avoid revealing the truth and when things came to pass he would have to accept them. It wasn’t as though she had led him on affectionately, and so the decision would be hers alone to make.

  There was also the obvious fact that any type of courtship at the lodging house would be awkward for both of them. But it wasn’t like she could just turn him away or ignore him now either, but he was displaying, perhaps too openly for his own good, that his affections for her were deepening.

  More than once she had thought of telling him to stop collecting flowers for her and trying so earnestly to seek her company. But whichever way things now proceeded she would have to act very carefully.

  A couple of birds chirped and twittered to each other on a branch above them, breaking the silence.

  ‘Oh it is a lovely day for a Friday. I do hope that this coming end of week is just as pleasant,’ she smiled, an attempt to lighten the tone.

  ‘This is London. It could change any second.’ He pointed to a few greyish clouds in the horizon which threatened to blot out the last rays of sun.

  Facing her now, he said, ‘But it would be pleasant enough if you would spend tomorrow evening with me. I can take you somewhere interesting.’

  The request took her by surprise.

  ‘Oh I don’t know about that Eddie. I think that a boxing match would frighten me,’ she laughed.

  ‘Not boxing. There is a performance at the local playhouse theatre tomorrow evening and it is one of my favourite plays. I would like to see it with you.’

  ‘A play? Which?’

  ‘Jekyll and Hide.’

  ‘Oh, and what is that about?’ she asked, ashamed of her own ignorance in such matters.

  ‘You shall see, just say that you will accompany me.’

  He looked at her pleadingly.

/>   ‘But Eddie, even if I agreed, you would have to convince Tilly to let me off for the entire evening.’

  ‘Tilly won’t be a problem to convince it is you that might be, say that you will come?’ He tilted his head persuasively until she found herself agreeing to his request.

  Catherine was beginning to realise that it was very hard to say no to Eddie.

  * * *

  The local playhouse theatre was filled with a gregarious and excited crowd.

  They were seated in an upper gallery amongst a throng of people who had spent much of the performance shouting across the stage or whistling loudly and jostling in their seats.

  Once the performance had ended Catherine and Eddie squeezed their way out of the old wooden exit door and into the street.

  ‘Did you enjoy the play?’ he enquired as they made their way back to the lodging house.

  She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘It was intriguing, but I also thought it was frightening too.’

  She didn’t much like the way the actor had suddenly switched from a gentle and kind man into a crazed, blood-thirsty monster. She had literally covered her eyes when Hyde bounded across the stage in search of his victim. Several women in the audience had shrieked with fright.

  ‘Aw women are just too soft,’ Eddie responded. ‘You know, I think a man’s singular desire in this world is to unveil himself. I think it is a fascinating idea that there are so many undiscovered parts to us human beings. It is my favourite local theatre play.’

  ‘How is it fascinating to discover yourself as a person considered to be evil?’

  He glanced side-ways at her. ‘Do we not all possess some evil desires? Tell me Catherine, what do you desire more than anything in the world?’

  She thought carefully about her response.

  ‘Well, I think it is everyone’s desire to be useful in some way, and to be cared for, is it not?’