The Whitechapel Virgin Read online

  He glared at her, his face suddenly growing red. ‘You think she’s going to do the same as Mary Jane, don’t you?’

  Annie’s eyes widened. ‘No we’re not saying that, we’re just saying be careful because...’

  ‘When are you both going to keep out of my business? And as for my private affairs...’ He pointed an accusing finger at Nellie through the mirror. ‘She hasn’t got any right to tell me what to do, not after what she did to my mother!’

  ‘Now just you wait.’ Annie snapped, putting her hands on her hips. ‘We’re only concerned because we care about you, and you shouldn’t speak to Nellie like that, she’s helped to raise you.’

  ‘Well maybe I shouldn’t speak to her at all.’

  Nellie’s face crumpled as Eddie spat the bitter words at her through the glass.

  ‘Just keep out of my business the both of you. I’m not a kid anymore and Catherine isn’t like that.’

  He slammed the door behind him leaving Nellie clutching her tummy and wiping fresh tears which spilled from her eyes.

  EIGHT

  It was the harsh knock on the door which startled her into wakefulness. Catherine opened it slightly, peering into the hollow corridor with sleep-filled eyes. The only person who ever knocked at her door were either Eddie or the low paid skivvy to enquire if her room needed a sweep. The other girls barely spoke to her at all, so she was certain it wouldn’t be one of them.

  She opened it to find Eddie looking particularly downcast.

  ‘What is it?’ Catherine asked, a little agitated by his intrusion.

  ‘Come down to the kitchen and you’ll see,’ he said, turning to leave.

  She could tell by his tone that whatever it was it had upset him, and her own mood lowered in response.

  What have I done now? Has he noticed how I have been avoiding him?

  She was beginning to get the feeling that everything she did was going to cause problems at the lodging house. Thank goodness Tilly was decent to her because the other women had barely acknowledged her since her arrival. When she had asked Tilly why they often gave her odd looks and sour glances she had said it was because they were jealous with her being the pretty new girl.

  And she was probably right.

  These women were pressed to endure unattractive and repugnant roles whilst she had been given a more favourable position in the tavern.

  For now.

  But despite the fact that she had avoided the business of servicing men so far, her current position was not an easy one. She discovered this from the blistered skin which had formed around her fingers and knuckles. The searing pain was only mildly helped by the application of a soothing balm which Tilly had let her borrow.

  As the days wore on she felt less and less fulfilled and Tilly had more or less hinted to her that Madame Davenport really wanted a pretty girl like her working the streets, not scrubbing pots and pans. That would be a whole new way of life, but would she be able to physically go through with it when the moment arrived?

  It was during these moments when she wished she had a female companion to talk to. Eddie was a patient listener, but he was not a girl. And there were things you could discuss with girls that you could never ever do with boys.

  There had been many disapproving stares from both Annie and Nellie. She could imagine they’d be gossiping that there was a hidden romance sprouting between them, so she had purposely been left out of the picture and couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy when she watched them sitting together in the kitchen chatting over a brew. Or giggling after sharing a personal joke as they left the lodging house to visit the market.

  These were some of the things Catherine had always yearned for, having never really known a mother’s love and attention for very long. When her parents were killed in a factory accident she had been just six years of age. Aunt Esther had taken her in.

  Esther was an eccentric and belligerent woman who rarely left the house, spending hours sewing in her chair talking to her six flea-infested cats and imaginary people in the room. Each day she acted oblivious to the needs of her young niece and Catherine was mostly treated as a servant, fulfilling a daily list of chores and demands.

  There were rare moments of solitude and escape, usually whenever her aunt dozed off by the fireplace and Catherine would escape to the yard at the back of the house and crouch by the wall. There she would imagine a different life entirely, where inside the awful house was not an old witch by the hearth, but instead her generous and doting parents who held her lovingly and played with her for hours on end.

  Once the dreams ended, she would return inside and continue to obey her aunt’s demands.

  The morning she awoke to find Aunt Esther gone, not a single soul in the street batted an eyelid. She new that the woman had never been a popular neighbour, though Mrs Jenkins, who lived two doors down the street, had circulated the rumour that she had spotted Esther creeping away in the night with a man. Catherine had heard it as she listened at the door when the small group of women huddled near her doorstep in the cold, gossiping over the disappearance of the most eccentric resident in their street.

  At first Catherine had thought of informing the police of her aunt’s disappearance, but she knew they would hardly care about yet another homeless girl when there were already hundreds living in the worse off areas within the city. Her aunt never failed to remind her that if she ever decided to foolishly run away, they would catch her and drag her to the workhouse. There she would join the throng of starving girls who were often beaten and starved and put to hard labour from dusk till dawn with little or no reward.

  A few days after the event, whilst she was sitting alone in the empty house, it had dawned on her that she could no longer remain without being reported sooner or later. A few neighbours had knocked on her door on the pretence of offering her a slice of bread. She saw how they had peered over her shoulder suspiciously. It was only a matter of time before they would tell the authorities she was squatting in a much sought-after residence alone.

  When Catherine entered the kitchen Eddie was sitting on a hard stool buffing his boots with angry swipes of the cloth. She wished she hadn’t tried to avoid him since he had informed her so affectionately that he cared for her.

  He did not look up and meet her eyes but merely nodded towards the basin in the corner. ‘Look inside there,’ he instructed.

  She walked across the room, unsure what to expect, but when she saw it she gasped. It was a single white lily wrapped very delicately in plain paper bordered with an intricate design.

  She stared at Eddie, confused.

  ‘Who is this for?’

  ‘The flower seller who delivered it said it was for you, so why don’t you tell me?’

  Catherine let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘Me? But who do I know would send me such a thing? I am hardly acquainted with any boy or gentleman around here?’

  Eddie threw down his cloth and stood angrily to his feet.

  ‘Don’t lie to me Catherine. I saw the way you looked at him the other night, and the way he looked at you when you sat opposite him. You returned his look with the same passion. Do you think I’m a fool?’

  ‘No, that is a foolish idea…’ she began to protest, but was cut short when he strode over to her and took her by the wrist. His forceful grip digging into her skin. He seemed to have little idea of his own strength.

  His lips quivered as he spoke. ‘I tried to help you. I tried to help you attain a decent position. I did what I could for you, and now you do this? So you really want to take up the game too, despite what you said to me?’

  ‘Eddie, please?’ she begged him. ‘I have no idea where the flower has come from and I have not entertained anyone.’ She attempted to pull away and turned her head to see
Annie standing within the door frame. A sly curious expression played on her lips.

  ‘So what’s going on ‘ere then, a lovers tiff already?’

  ‘Nothing is going on,’ Catherine replied icily.

  Annie sauntered over to the basin and peered in. Her eyes widened with interest. ‘Well look at this then. For you is it?’ she said, turning to Catherine.

  ‘Leave her alone Annie, she doesn’t know who sent it here,’ Eddie snarled.

  Annie let out a little snort. ‘Is that so?’

  She snatched up a cup from the surface and casually walked over to the kettle on the stove. ‘Well I did try to warn you Eddie, don’t say that I didn’t. I saw it coming. Mary Jane did exactly the same thing didn’t she, before...’

  ‘DON’T bring her into this.’ Eddie shouted. One fist, balled tightly, came down hard on the wooden table. He scowled at Catherine before charging out of the door.

  The two women stood silently with gaping mouths.

  After a few moments Annie poured herself a tea and sat down with her back to Catherine, rudely cutting her off as nothing more than an irritating presence now that Eddie had gone.

  ‘He has done nothing wrong,’ Catherine said to the woman, unsure whether she might respond. She would have her say, and defend herself before she left the room, despite her inner feelings of shame. ‘I do not know who the flower is from, but this is hardly his fault.’

  ‘Oh no?’ Annie replied swinging round. ‘Well whose fault is it then Miss Bell? Are you here to make a mock of all the men in the tavern? The way I see it he’s just going to get his heart broken all over again isn’t he?’

  Catherine felt tears pooling in her eyes. ‘What do you mean? And who is Mary Jane, is she someone he has courted?’

  Annie snorted derisively. ‘She is a little tramp who led him down a merry path then dumped him to go on the game. Smashed his sensitive heart to smithereens she did, and he was only just coming out of his shell when you came along, and now look at him. You can’t lie to me and say that you’re serious about him cause I’ve already seen evidence to the contrary.’

  Catherine felt shame engulf her at the heartless woman’s accusations. ‘I have never misled Eddie in any affectionate manner. I have been only respectful towards him,’ she said indignantly.

  ‘Right, only friendship was it? But you accept his flowery gifts and you stroll around the park with him don’t ya? Do you think we are all blind fools here? If you ain’t got any decent intentions towards Eddie, I’ll warn you to leave him well alone.’

  The young girl’s chin dropped in shame. ‘I do understand that I should have told him of my feelings much sooner, it was just that I...’

  ‘Just what?’ Annie cut in abruptly.

  ‘I did not want to hurt his feelings, truly I didn’t,’ she said, staring at the floor. She had been exposed as a tease and it was more than she could bear.

  ‘Well you’ve already done that much, and neither me nor Nellie are going to stand by and watch him suffer a second time, mark my words. He was doing much better until you turned up here.’

  Catherine let out a sob. She could listen to Annie no more. Taking off her apron and throwing it onto the counter she rushed away from the kitchen and fled to her own quarters. Once inside she spent the next hour sobbing with anguish and shame.

  Annie is right. I have only led him on by encouraging his affections. And I was not brave enough to tell him how I felt.

  There was only one thing left to do. And she would do it before Eddie developed feelings of hate towards her.

  If it wasn’t already too late.

  NINE

  It was difficult to face Tilly that night, but once she descended the stairs she had gained some composure and felt much improved.

  Tilly acted quite normally, as though she knew nothing of the whole episode in the kitchen earlier that afternoon. It seemed unlikely to Catherine that Tilly would miss catching word of any drama which occurred inside the tavern, and so Catherine thought that perhaps she had just decided to sweep it under the carpet.

  Preparing her tasks, Catherine realised that perhaps the evening would not be entirely untroubled for she caught sight of Annie watching her intensely from the corner of the room. She was decked in her favourite velvet black hat encased with a large purple flower. Her upper chest was vulgarly exposed in a more seductive fashion than Catherine had ever witnessed before, carrying a general poise that was defiantly sensual.

  She appeared to be studying Catherine carefully as if she were trying to ascertain her involvement with the customers. Catherine kept her eyes lowered and concentrated on her duties but despite her earnest approach she could not avoid appearing nervous that evening, even spilling an entire glass of ale to the floor.

  Tilly had tutted loudly and admonished her. ‘Watch your carelessness girl, what’s up wiv’ ya this evening?’ Catherine had silently cleared the mess but noticed Annie smirking as she mopped up the spill.

  After a short while Annie slipped out of the door followed by a bald man with bowed legs and Catherine leaned on the counter and breathed a sigh of relief.

  Turning her back to clear away yet another tray of glasses she felt the impression of a person’s glare at her back. Turning to the counter she came face to face with familiar eyes. Goosebumps ran along her arms. She glanced at Tilly who was busily enthralled in some loud discussion with a customer about the latest scandal of a high class mistress giving birth to her employer’s child.

  ‘Good evening Miss Bell, would you permit me just a few moments of your time?’ he requested.

  Taking a deep breath, Catherine regained her composure and glanced around cautiously to see whether any of the women were watching. Nellie was sitting in the far distance upon a gentleman’s lap and crooning to him as he swayed his upper body from side to side in rhythmic accompaniment. Catherine was relieved to see that Annie was nowhere in sight.

  Mr Cross motioned her to follow him. She obeyed, light-headed and giddy. Together they walked across the room to a small table under the eaves of a wooden arch, adorned with two small expressionless cherubs engraved on either side, poised to strike arrows into the hearts of their subjects.

  She sat close to him as he extracted a cigar from his vest pocket and lit it with gloved fingertips. Only partially was she aware of a downpour that had begun outside and the sealing of the tavern door to new customers.

  ‘I have thought of you often, Miss Bell.’

  She could not find an appropriate response as she stared at his features which appeared perfect, skin so smooth she wished to touch it.

  ‘I can assure you Miss Bell that I bear no ill will toward you. Rather, I find you not only attractive, but charmingly desirable.’

  A loud beating of her heart ensued. Never had she felt such a rush of inner warmth in the presence of any man before and she knew it was something no girl of good repute should feel, yet she could only blame him for the captivating effect he had imposed upon her.

  He spoke again, slowly, appearing to weigh his words carefully. ‘I would like to help you Catherine. I realise that you have not been working for Madam Davenport long.’

  Catherine looked at him in surprise.

  ‘You know her? Madame?’

  ‘Not in any degree of great depth,’ he smiled, leaning closer to her ear. ‘But it would please me greatly to spend some time with you.’

  Catherine had little idea how to respond to his remark. She knew that Madam Davenport would put her to work like the other women sooner or later, but still she could not see how any gentleman could find her so intriguing, or wish to submit any kind of monetary contribution for her company. She had little by way of a bosom and possessed practically no experience in the matters of pleasuring men. S
he was not open-mouthed, indecent, or good at cracking fireside jokes.

  Though she had a fair idea where this was leading and that he might well be willing to offer payment for her company, she eschewed any sense of guilt which she knew she ought to feel as the sudden notion of it deeply enthralled her.

  He now possessed a keen sparkle in his eye as he attempted to communicate above the chattering voices all around them.

  ‘I have spoken to Madame Davenport about you this very day,’ he said, picking up his cider and sipping it.

  His words were as incandescent as the rest of the room as she continued to drink in his features and dine on his alluring presence. An unfamiliar part of her wished for him to embrace her, sweep her into his arms and snatch her away from the endless toil of hard labour. If only he could aspire to love her and give her some sort of a worthwhile existence. Oh but in reality it seemed utterly preposterous, and nothing more than the fanciful yearnings of every orphan girl in the city.

  Finally she was able to stutter some type of coherent response.

  ‘What is it that you require of me Mr Cross?’

  ‘I realise that you may inwardly seek a reason to distrust me, Miss Bell.’

  She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat for she foolishly found she did not.

  ‘I can assure you that there is no deceptive agenda hidden within my statement. I found you enchanting the very moment I laid eyes upon you, and I am but a lonely soul who wishes nothing more than to seek your sole companionship.’

  At that particular moment she witnessed and heard nothing else around her, lulled into a deep and melodic hiatus by his sensual voice and rousing plea.

  She smiled vainly, hopeful in the belief of a most innocent wish that he might somehow take her away from an uncertain future.

  She had over-heard Annie and Nellie lament loudly at times from their own quarters, sending wishful pleas for some wealthier gent to take them up as a mistress. It would end all the toil and hardship of seeking endless custom from the dirty streets and rowdy bars, as well as cut off the worrisome burden of unacquainted coupling.