The Whitechapel Virgin Page 5

  Eddie nodded. ‘Yes. I’d say that’s quite true but I’ve never known if my mother wanted me. At least you had those few early years with your own parents.’

  His expression turned grim suddenly.

  Not wishing to dampen his spirits Catherine decided to switch the topic of conversation. ‘Will anyone be up at the tavern at this hour?’

  ‘They come and go at every hour, we will not disturb anyone.’

  They entered the familiar building and she followed as he lit the way ahead of them and carried on up the staircase, accompanying her to her quarters. She felt a little uncomfortable in his presence as they stood outside her door. The faint sound of gentle snoring came from the room behind them.

  He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘Catherine, remember what you said about being cared for?’

  ‘Yes?’ she replied, nervously.

  ‘Well, I care for you.’

  He gently let go of her hand and walked away. She stared after him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she realised the meaning of his statement.

  Oh what must she do now? She never wished to lead him on in a romantic sense. Now it seemed that he had fallen for her and she would most certainly break his heart if she confessed her true feelings.

  She fell into a troubled sleep that night, feeling pity for the young man who had been kind enough to help her settle in, and make her feel so welcome, yet she could not summon up any kind of desire for him.

  Somewhere before dawn she slipped into an uneasy sleep until a cock crowed in the distance not more than a half hour later.

  She rose again, worn and bleary-eye. A sense of despair now stirring within her. Despair that she would carry the entire day as she went about her duties, hoping to avoid Eddie’s watchful gaze.

  * * *

  She was grateful that she had been afforded a rare one hour rest that afternoon before the doors were opened once again to invite in thirsty men from across the city.

  All morning it had been Eddie who had occupied her thoughts, but she had not seen him and for that she was ashamed yet relieved.

  As much as she enjoyed his companionship the sentiments of intimacy or passion did not unveil themselves to her. Not in the way that she had always imagined love ought to feel, though she could see that he had clearly fallen for her hook, line and sinker.

  Guilt and worrisome thoughts began to fester. Even if she did return his affections now, what could Eddie offer her? When she had dreamt of settling down, she always believed it would be with someone who could at least provide her with a decent home, and he would earn just enough money to buy her clothes which were not always tattered and torn. He might even afford a few small comforts for their children, that they might even have the prospect of some kind of an education.

  It seemed impossible that she might attract a gentleman like that. But was it so wrong to dream of marrying a man so high above her station?

  Maybe I do not deserve an existence better than this? Maybe I am fated to this way of living?

  She sighed, pushing the sour thoughts from her mind and allowed a few curls to escape from the large metal pin Tilly had given her to hold her hair in place. She leaned forward to pour the thick brown liquid from a barrel into a row of glasses on the counter, then picking up a large tray she carried the beverages to the tables before collecting empty glasses on her return.

  Catherine hurried about in this way for a good thirty minutes before paying attention to any individual person or to the amount of customers that were filling up the tavern fairly rapidly whilst she worked.

  In one corner a man watched her with great interest, discreetly following her form as she flitted around the room with practiced competence. She was unaware of his presence, and the fact that he was wearing spectacles and dark clothing seemed to add to his invisibility in the shadowed corner.

  Catherine continued serving customers until she felt that very soon she might collapse with exhaustion, stopping only for a brief moment to wipe her brow and catch her breath. Thank goodness she had only a short while left before she could stop serving customers and let them all finish consuming their drinks before they began to make their way out of the door.

  She spotted an empty glass in one corner of the room. There sat a man who appeared as a dark silhouette against the dim light. She weaved quickly between tables and crossed the room towards him. Without looking at his face she picked up his glass. ‘Fifteen minutes left to closing sir, if you want a last drink you’d better ask for it now.’

  The man did not reply so she looked up, and drew in a breath. His face was instantly familiar, but yet seemed foreign. He had a small tuft of dark hair neatly clipped below his mouth and another neat thin line above his lips.

  He removed his spectacles and she felt a pleasurable thrill at the glinting emerald flecks in his eyes. She had a vague impression that she had met him before.

  ‘Do I know you, sir?’

  He smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, it was I who assisted you to your feet just outside this very establishment a few weeks ago.’

  The memory of her embarrassing fall came flooding back. Her eyes widened upon recollection. ‘Oh yes, I do recall it,’ she giggled, colour creeping to her cheeks.

  She also remembered how frantic she had been to find somewhere warm and safe to stop for the night and hadn’t thought about this gentleman in any great detail at the time. But now, as she studied him a little more closely, she realised he was extremely handsome and younger than she remembered. She would not put him very far above thirty years anyway.

  He politely stood to his feet and doffed his hat. He was a good few inches taller than her and she felt a weakness in her limbs as his presence seemed to over-power her.

  ‘My name is Mr Cross, may I request the knowledge of your name young lady?’

  He reached for her hand and she offered it, forgetting herself and her role. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, his warm breath tickled her skin making her catch her breath.

  ‘Catherine Bell,’ she replied, reluctantly releasing her hand from his grasp.

  The whole encounter now felt so intimate that she stepped backwards and almost tripped on the table leg behind her.

  He instinctively reached out and steadied her with a strong hand on the small of her back. She felt foolish having already tripped in his presence once before. She glanced around the room nervously.

  ‘I am awfully sorry sir but it is nearly closing time. I had better return to my position.’

  He did not tear his gaze away from her, dominating her with his hypnotic presence. She found that it felt good for some strange reason, it felt so different.

  He nodded with a gracious dip of his chin, his eyes still locked upon hers. She became trapped within those little pools of green, wanting to dive in and float there forever.

  ‘The pleasure of meeting you is all mine, Miss Bell. I will be sure to return here soon again.’

  Finally he tore his gaze away, much to Catherine’s disappointment, and swiftly headed for the door leaving her standing open-mouthed. She checked to see that most of the tables were now vacant. She set his glass on the tray and walked back to the counter where Tilly was watching her with a cheeky grin.

  ‘Well hark at you my girl. It’s all right for some ain’t it?’ She nudged Catherine playfully.

  Catherine blushed at Tilly’s candid approach. ‘Is he a regular? I have not seen him in here before.’

  She leaned in closer to Catherine’s ear. ‘Edward Cross is his name. It may be that he’s known around these parts as a bit of a peculiar fellow.’

  ‘Peculiar? How so?’

  Tilly lowered her voice to a whisper even though they seemed well clear of roving ears. ‘Well I ain’
t one for gossip, but since you asked, he’s one of them loners, reclusive types, you know that likes keeping themselves to themselves. Ain’t never been viewed courting with any lady in no serious manner. Seems happy to make his way alone in life it seems and his late uncle was a patron of this tavern, and there are many tales whispered around on that subject, or so they say.’

  Catherine raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  ‘Well, he did appear very well dressed.’ She didn’t know much about clothes or fashion but she could recognise good breeding and impeccable taste when she saw it.

  Tilly nodded. ‘An’ I’ll tell you why. He moved down here from the north with his mother a few years ago, to some fancy street. Then it seemed Mrs Cross didn’t much like the pace of city life and complained so much she moved back, leaving her son here with plenty to get by on I can tell you.’

  ‘But why would a single young man in possession of some wealth not wish to settle down with a good wife?’

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ Tilly cackled, ‘there’s plenty of them bachelor types about today. They don’t want to be taken advantage of that’s why. Like the poor kindly stockbroker Mr Cunningham whose wife disappeared with a fellow ten years younger than her husband. She’d been siphoning his money into her own savings for years before she ran off. A stinker of a scandal that was. I tell you, there’s nothing worse than the affliction of a deceitful wife.’

  Catherine stared at Tilly, intrigued. The older woman seemed to know a lot about people’s private business.

  ‘Well, can’t say I’ve seen Mr Cross in here for a long while now, but looks like he took a real shine to you young lady. He’ll be back again, I can feel it in me bones.’

  Catherine nodded, uncertain how to respond. She certainly had been overcome by his presence but she couldn’t allow it to affect her better judgement. She felt unsettled again as she began to clear up. She really didn’t need Mr Cross to return and complicate matters for her but she quivered inside as she remembered how she had felt, as clearly as if she’d been struck by lightning in his very presence.

  But would he really come back to see me again?

  The thought excited her and she admonished herself for thinking such fanciful thoughts. Surely if he did return, it would only be for one thing and one thing only.

  She sighed.

  Whatever the case might be she realised that she could barely stop thinking about Mr Cross that night, and when she finally rested her head on the pillow in the early hours, she felt aglow with an inner warmth, as she recalled his soulful eyes and the way they had burrowed into her like a sharp demon ready to devour her innocent soul.

  SEVEN

  Nellie Hunt sat at the dressing table clutching a tattered cushion across her lap as another abdominal cramp subsided. She had still not recovered from the painful birth which she had endured over a month ago.

  At the time she had been out of it, stone drunk when Annie had helped her get through it. And she really wanted to stop remembering it too, but the cramps had persisted, and they simply kept reminding her of the awful experience she had endured.

  After two years of living at the Boars Tavern lodging house, she had always paid attention and listened to the more experienced women about how to effectively ‘douch’ before having private relations with customers. But now she was convinced that there must be something wrong with her insides because she seemed to get in the family way so easily, and her pains continued on for much longer than other women after the delivery had all been dealt with. Whilst she was intoxicated and out of it, well it wasn’t too bad, but the few weeks after the event were agonising.

  It was Nellie’s fourth loss and she still couldn’t get over how painful all of them had been. There was no way she even wanted to guess at what sex the poor thing might have been this time.

  She would never ask Annie, and Annie would never tell her.

  Or what it might have been like if she could have been a proper mother to it. In her line of work those kind of desires seemed like they required a miracle. And miracles were things which just didn’t happen to women like her.

  So what had to be done, had to be done.

  Even though she still endured a few twitches and twangs in areas down below, she realised that she was already too far behind her payments to skip off work any longer.

  Madame Davenport had been persistent in enquiring about her health and how come she was still recovering from the fever. Though now things would go on as ever before because Nellie couldn’t afford to do anything differently. At the age of thirty-nine she had no family, no siblings, no husband or any living children to worry about.

  It was a terrible truth to bear, but if she left the world at that precise moment she’d leave nothing of importance behind. She had only herself to feed and clothe, and that was tough enough. Work was hard to find at her age too, especially when she had come straight from being an orphaned child to being passed around neighbours, foster carers, and then straight onto these cursed and grotty back streets in Whitechapel.

  Life couldn’t get any worse than this so she always believed that a ‘good’ life had never been meant for her. It had never been in her destiny to marry a gentleman and live a proper life as a lady so she might as well stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with it.

  She sighed and continued to powder her nose whilst she waited for Annie to return with some pins to help her style her hair. She fancied wearing it up that evening, and in less than an hour she would get down to the tavern and wait and see if any of her regulars turned up.

  Last night she noticed a handsome young fellow in the corner. It had been a long time since she’d seen him at the Boars and he’d never looked her way before but he didn’t half look dapper, she thought. And she very nearly managed to catch his attention too, except when the young new serving girl suddenly interrupted and walked over to fetch his glass. Then he began talking to her instead and Nellie had backed off and watched from the staircase.

  What was she doing soliciting custom anyway? Had Madame already put her on the game?

  Annie returned with a few pins in her hand and a couple sticking out from between her lips. As the thought took hold of her, Nellie decided to ask her friend about it.

  ‘Annie, have you spoken much to the new girl recently, the one that’s been helping Tilly serve downstairs?’

  Brushing Nellie’s thinning hair she began to pin loose strands into place. ‘Hmm, I’ve seen her about, not spoken to her, but I have noticed how our Eddie’s got a soft spot for her, and I’ll be having words with him about it.’

  Nellie screwed up her nose as she covered it with the dusty powder again. ‘I’ve noticed that too and I’m worried he’ll get his heart broken all over again.’

  ‘He says he ain’t, but he’s still affected by that little cow Mary Jane. Fancy dumping him for that old codger down at the butcher’s shop.’

  Tilly widened her eyes. ‘Ooh I know, and the last thing I heard she’d taken up the game over at Flower and Dean Street.’

  ‘Eddie shouldn’t have got himself involved with her. We were all glad to see the back of her, but he wouldn’t listen to us, would he?’

  ‘Well he’ll learn the hard way if he keeps following this new girl about.’

  ‘I’ll be having words with her sooner or later,’ she tugged Nellie’s hair with a steel comb.

  ‘Ouch! Don’t leave me head bald. Anyway, I don’t reckon Eddie’s the only one whose got his eye on her.’

  Annie raised an inquisitive eyebrow, recalling how the new girl had been watching at the doorway when she had been helping Nellie get rid of the baby, but she didn’t see any point in telling Nellie that particular detail. It might upset her. And anyway she hadn’t spoken to the girl ever since that night, the flighty young sort soon get fed
up and leave because they can’t take the hard slog of it all once Davenport starts sending ‘em off out into the streets.

  ‘What do you mean Eddie’s not the only one, Nell?’

  Annie was pleased that the pins were set and all she had to do was lacquer the few stray bits of hair which were sticking out around it.

  ‘Ouch stop pulling so hard, you’ll tug me brains out. What I mean is that handsome young fellow was in ‘ere last night. I ain’t seen him in ages but the new girl went over to his table and he was all over her like some real snake charmer. And I had quite fancied him myself up to that point.’

  Annie eyed Nellie through the mirror and saw her face crease with disappointment. ‘Well, we can’t let some inexperienced little brat steal away our best punters can we? I’ll be sure to keep an eye on her tonight for you.’

  Nellie smiled at Annie through the smeared mirror. The woman had always looked after her, ever since she’d arrived at the tavern just a year after Annie had moved in. Since then they’d shared everything together, including the same room at the lodging house, all their secrets, the good times, and of course the sorrows.

  ‘Aw, you are good to me,’ she smiled, and Annie smiled back giving her friend’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Annie answered it.

  Eddie stood at the door holding a lamp.

  ‘It’s mended, where do you want it?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh thanks love, just put it on the floor over there.’

  Eddie stepped inside and Annie looked cautiously over at Nellie whose face had turned quite pale.

  ‘Whilst you’re here Eddie, we wanted to speak to you about that new girl downstairs, what’s her na...’

  ‘Catherine,’ Eddie snapped.

  Annie smiled. ‘Yes, Catherine, that’s her name ain’t it, sorry I forgot. Anyway, look we don’t want to pry into your affairs, but we are a bit concerned after what Mary Jane...’