by E M Jones
“Ah yes, I’ve heard of her. Has she become your companion of choice? Have you seen her again?”
“Oh no. She already has a paramour—Sir Glynne, a peer of the realm. No, we had a wonderful experience, but I must extend my love to others, such as yourself.”
“So you’ve not seen her since your night together?”
“No, I was most insistent, and she agreed, that we would not have a long-term engagement.”
Lizzie suppressed her desire to correct Arthur’s story. “Well, shall we walk a little further and see what delights are around that far corner?”
Arthur’s breathing was like the brushing of a cymbal in quick time as Lizzie guided him towards a stone bower.
“Lizzie?”
Lizzie’s arm pulled away from Arthur’s as she turned towards the familiar voice. Arthur’s breathing paused as he caught sight of Ted. Lizzie looked from Ted to Arthur and back again.
“Lizzie, shall we walk on?” Arthur replaced his arm in the loop at Lizzie’s side and turned to walk on, pulling her confidently.
The couple walked away, Lizzie like a toy train on a track.
“Lizzie?”
Arthur jerked, forcefully this time, at Ted’s further interruption. Lizzie could feel his increasing irritation and the tread of Ted’s steps following their path.
“Sir, Lizzie and I are engaged for the evening. Could you leave us now?” All of Arthur’s self-control was expended in addressing Ted. His tall frame was swollen with anger and interrupted excitement.
“Are you, Lizzie?”
Lizzie knew she would run to Ted the moment she saw his eyes. She looked at the path below her faded frock. “Yes.”
“Really, Lizzie?”
“This is quite enough. Sir, you have no business interrupting a gentleman with his lady companion. Please go now, before—”
“Before what?” In a flash, Ted was stood an inch away from Arthur’s now pumping chest.
His physical presence was intimidation enough for Arthur. “Nothing, sir, nothing. I merely meant that we were engaged. But if you and she have an… an arrangement, I will seek a more beautiful prize elsewhere.”
With that, Arthur jerked away around the corner and back towards the crowds.
Lizzie looked at Ted in the dim light. There was no real anger in his eyes.
“Lizzie?”
Once again, the loop of Lizzie’s arm was taken before she answered. This time there, was less force and a pause that at least suggested a request for consent.
Lizzie and Ted walked around the bower and circled back towards the dispersing crowds.
“Lizzie, are you alright?”
Lizzie looked up and caught sight of a familiar elfin nose and jocular prance towards the gate.
“Come on, let’s catch Charlie and see if she found anything out.”
13
“So that’s it. That’s all he said.”
Three pairs of probing and interested eyes stared at Lizzie. Rather than decide which pair to meet, she looked outside towards the yard, as Mrs Henry had the day before.
“Do you think he was telling the truth?”
Lizzie decided not to be offended by Ted’s question. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Lizzie paused, reconsidering whether to be offended. “Yes. He was trying to make himself out as one of the most attractive men around, but he wasn’t lying.” Lizzie looked at Ted, defying him to question her again.
“Well, well done, Lizzie, that’s a good start.” Mrs Henry leant on the table between Lizzie and Ted as she spoke. She looked up at Charlie. “Did you find anything out, Charlie?” She glanced obviously between Ted and Lizzie as she spoke, and opened her eyes wide and imploringly at Charlie, the skin on her eyelids ruffling into a closed fan beneath her grey eyebrows.
Responding to the less than subtle signs, Charlie took on her role as peacemaker. “I spoke to a couple of girls, but they didn’t know anything we don’t know already. Sir Glynne’s away, Dina’s been at The Alhambra with us. I thought that was that, but then I saw David. Lizzie, you haven’t met him, but for a while David was the man about town. He knew everybody who was worth knowing—didn’t he, Mrs H?”
“He did. He was a regular here, of course, and often said it was the best place to come to be looked after—didn’t he, Charlie?”
“Indeed. We had very good relations. Well, he’s a bit past his best now, but I thought if anybody might have heard something, David might.”
“And had he?” Mrs Henry’s childlike optimism rang loudly in the bare kitchen.
“He didn’t know anything about Dina. But he had heard that the first girl to be killed—her name was Elsbeth—had been bragging that she had a new rich client. Apparently, she’d been telling all the other girls that she wouldn’t be seeing them for very much longer because she would be a private mistress soon.”
“Did he know who this rich client was?” Mrs Henry’s eyes brightened; Charlie suspected more at the thought of prospective profit than being closer to finding Dina.
“No, David said she was very secretive about it. Some of the girls thought she was lying, but David said she’d been pretty confident and kept going off to be picked up in her client’s new carriage.”
The kitchen was filled with the silence of whirring thoughts.
Ted looked from woman to woman. “Could Dina have been involved with this new client?”
“Well, yes. It’s summer, you see.” Charlie looked at Lizzie before continuing, and Lizzie nodded slightly in acquiescence. “During the summer our regulars are all away, so we work in different spots and with, well, anybody, really, until our regulars come back in the autumn.” Lizzie stared intently at a knot in the worn table as Charlie spoke. “So yes, she could have met this rich client, but it’s unlikely. If he and Elsbeth had an arrangement, he only had a few days after her death to meet Dina, and we haven’t seen him. Dina wouldn’t make any long-term arrangements, because Sir Glynne will be back soon and Dina and he have a set-up that is agreeable all round.”
“What about seeing Dina at the same time as Elsbeth?”
“No, Dina would have mentioned it.” Charlie’s certainty was confirmed by Mrs Henry’s vigorous nodding. “Dina is very good at her work. She can smell a profitable client across the river, along the new train tracks and through the stink of the smog and slums. If Dina had met a new client who could potentially keep her very comfortably, she would have mentioned it. And she would have kept away because she knows she’s in a very good position as Sir Glynne’s companion of choice.”
“Exactly.” Mrs Henry sat up in her chair and reinstated herself as matriarch. “Dina is very good. She will protect her place with Sir Glynne, a peer of the realm; she wouldn’t risk that for any man with new money.”
Mrs Henry’s summation persuaded her audience and pondering silence fell in the kitchen.
“Well, I had better go,” said Ted. “If you want any help, let me know—you can get a message to me at my rooms. Bye, Charlie. Bye, Lizzie.”
He stood tall and tried to catch Lizzie’s eye before turning towards the door.
Lizzie gave what she hoped was a happy smile. “Bye, Ted.”
She explored the knot in the wood further as she listened to Mrs Henry’s prattle and heard the crushing sound of Ted’s banknotes squeezed into her wrinkled hand. Lizzie sighed and looked up to be met by Charlie’s sympathy. Lizzie smiled sadly.
“Right, girls, we need to have a talk now that Ted has gone.” Mrs Henry returned to her seat with authority. “I know we’re worried about Dina, me as much as are you. I really appreciate all the work you’re putting into trying to help her, as I’m sure she will when she turns up. However, this house is a place of work, and while her room is empty, we are running at a loss. So I will be starting to look for a new girl this week, because I can’t afford to have empty rooms while there’s money to be made.”
Charlie looked at Lizzie in knowing disappointment.
“Right then. Well, now that that’s arranged, you had better get on with your chores before tonight.” Mrs Henry pushed her hands on the table, her skin chameleon-like in the contours of the worn wood. She raised herself, but seemed to lose her sense of purpose and pottered slowly out to the yard, pausing to look at Dina’s hair-washing bucket as she went.
Charlie reached across the table and held Lizzie’s hand with unusual force. Lizzie looked up in surprise.
“Lizzie, it’s up to us now. Nobody else cares about Dina.” Charlie looked wistfully at Mrs Henry in the yard.
“Right, back to The Alhambra tonight. Let’s try to find out about this rich man, and you never know, Johnny might have heard something new by now.”
***
Charlie and Lizzie entered The Alhambra painted and prepared for the night’s work. Charlie had dressed carefully in a waistcoat that had brought considerable success with her female companions, and Lizzie had made a particular effort to create a colourful drama above her eyes to compete with the performers on the stage. Money had to be made.
Johnny greeted them with a nod, and they entered the hall.
“Right. Work and Dina. All set?” Charlie raised her eyes for a moment to check with Lizzie.
Lizzie nodded, and the women parted left and right simultaneously.
Lizzie struck up conversation with a very drunk, very young gentleman who would be a quick piece of work. They had made just enough small talk to justify moving to a dark corner when Lizzie’s shoulder was poked by an unfamiliar podgy finger.
“Lizzie!”
The insistent whisper behind her seemed strange and familiar, and she turned to see Johnny looking alarmed and uncomfortable.
“Lizzie, come with me.”
Johnny powerfully guided Lizzie away from her potential customer and towards Charlie and Beatrix, who were enacting their usual performance of how to have the most outrageous fun possible. Charlie’s eyes widened as the sight of Johnny propelling Lizzie across the auditorium towards them came into view. A vigorous jerk of Johnny’s head indicated to Charlie that Beatrix needed to be let down once more, and the three met at the door to the music hall.
Johnny’s eyes were full and heavy. “They’ve found another girl, another dead girl.”
The music pouring from the stage was high in pitch and tempo. Lizzie, Johnny and Charlie stood in the doorway like characters at the wrong show, tragedians in silhouette.
“Where is she?”
Johnny’s large frame loosened at Charlie’s question. “What?”
“Where is she?”
“At the workhouse—the dead house at Bishopsgate.” Charlie turned and took Lizzie’s arm as Johnny continued to speak. “Don’t go there, Charlie. You don’t want to…”
Johnny rubbed his forehead as Charlie ran off and Lizzie struggled to keep up with her.
***
Bishopsgate Workhouse stood, or rather stooped, on the edge of the city. It was a building that embodied the slum it existed within rather than trying to improve it.
By the time Charlie and Lizzie had half-walked, half-run there, it was past midnight. The dark hid some of the dirt on the building, but it still looked like a hideous, despairing mass rather than a place of shelter and restoration.
Charlie had pulled Lizzie through the streets with a lack of consideration that Lizzie had never experienced from her before. Lizzie knew that, had she stopped, Charlie would have continued through the night oblivious of her company.
Charlie entered the workhouse through a side door, and Lizzie wondered again at her knowledge of the city. Charlie strode down the wooden corridor in the dim light, the odd snore and shift in hay inconsequential to the determined rhythm of her feet. While the rest of the city sweltered in the August heat, this building seemed cold.
Charlie stopped abruptly and spoke with authority to a snoozing cap. “We need to see a body.”
“What?” The cap rose a little and a pair of exhausted eyes peered at the two women.
“We need to see a body, a girl, brought here tonight.”
“And who are you—”
Charlie threw some coins in the direction of the cap, and it shuffled to open a door. Taking Lizzie’s hand, Charlie followed behind the cap and through to a room darker and colder than the rest of the building.
The blanket that covered the body was pulled back, and the cap shuffled back out again. Charlie squeezed Lizzie’s hand and held on as she stepped closer to the uncovered face. The skin had yellowed and there was blood on the left temple, stained into rust as it combined with the dead flesh. The girl’s nose was round, like a child’s, but blood crusted like frozen snow around her nostrils. Her mouth was plump still, though colourless, and she had a cut down towards her chin in a distinct red line. With her eyes closed, she seemed spent rather than relaxed, her battle with life finished.
Charlie turned to Lizzie for the first time in more than an hour, and leant on her shoulder, and wept.
14
Lizzie placed her feet softly on the bare floor as she stepped into Charlie’s room. She seldom saw Charlie in her room, since Lizzie’s room was the dressing-up parlour for the house. Charlie slept like a child when alone, deeply and curled in a comfortable ball.
Lizzie sat on the edge of the bed. Charlie turned slightly and opened one eye. “Hello.”
Her face still looked tired from the night before, the scars of tears around her eyes.
“Hello. How are you feeling?”
“Alright, I think. You?”
“Alright as well, thanks.”
Lizzie placed her arm on the threadbare blanket covering Charlie up to her shoulder. They remained still, the blanket providing a conducted comfort.
“Would you like a drink, something to eat?”
Charlie sat up and seemed to relax. “No, thank you. I can’t have a lady waiting on me after dragging her through the streets of London all night. I will get you some refreshment.” She rose to her usual gallant position.
“It’s alright, Charlie. I’ll come down with you. What are we going to tell Mrs…”
The door opened with the force of a locomotive as a dishevelled Mrs Henry, still in her nightcap, propelled into the room like a sprung ball bearing. “Girls, they’ve found, they’ve found…”
Mrs Henry convulsed onto the bed, her heaving breaths like a sow about to give birth. Real tears were gathered around her eyes, and she looked at Charlie in complete despair.
“It isn’t Dina, Mrs H; it isn’t Dina’s body that they’ve found.”
Mrs Henry convulsed further in response to the news and started to sway and mutter, seemingly in thanks to the Lord, this being a positive moment in their mercurial relationship.
“How do you know? Mrs Pat just called by to tell me. How do you know, Charlie?” Mrs Henry’s imploring tone begged Charlie for some basis to return from despair.
“We saw her, Mrs Henry; we saw the dead girl. It isn’t Dina.”
Mrs Henry’s despair turned to wonder as her eyes opened as wide as her mouth. “Girls! Such a thing for you to see!”
“Johnny told us last night, so we went to check if it was Dina. It wasn’t.” Charlie sat next to Mrs Henry and put her arm around her.
“Oh girls, oh, the poor girl, and my poor girls!” Mrs Henry looked from Charlie to Lizzie with bewildered pride and concern. She cried loudly and with relief, and pulled her girls to her old, worn breast.
***
Charlie and Lizzie left Mrs Henry napping in a chair in the kitchen. Her chin had fallen onto her chest and her crumpled body looked older than usual.
At the top of the stairs, Lizzie held Charlie’s arm and they faced each other.
“You look tired, Charlie. Are you up to working tonight?”
The skin beneath Charlie’s eyes was almost translucent, reflecting the decay she had observed. “I’ll be alright, Lizzie. Anyway, I could say the same about you.”
Both exhaled sadly.
“Wh
ere to, then?”
“Not far tonight.” Charlie headed towards her room as she spoke. “The Alhambra?”
“Yes. We should see Johnny, too. He’ll be worried about you.”
Walking towards her room, Charlie did not seem to hear Lizzie, but then nodded. “Yes. Yes, he will. The Alhambra it is then.”
Charlie opened the door to her room and closed it behind her. Lizzie stared at the door before turning towards her own room.
***
Lizzie longed for autumn, as she did every summer. August was a time to be tolerated and survived, but during the rest of the year, in her own way, Lizzie felt that she lived. The heat was inescapable and callously staged London’s shortcomings: the dirt, the smell, the crowds. Where the other seasons softened these with refreshing breezes, cleansing rain or blooming trees, the August sun refused to let them hide and forced the city’s failings upon its inhabitants.
And then there was Ted. Lizzie knew she was being foolish and that it would end. The prospect of returning to her usual customers on their usual nights in the usual place dulled something in her but also tempted her back like a driver moving blind to their usual round. During August, the monotony of an average working week was more attractive than all the delights of a summer fair; just Lizzie and Charlie and Dina, as usual. They would be back at their old haunts, they would see Johnny occasionally, and their Sunday meals with Mrs Henry would mark the end and beginning of another week.
Lizzie paused, holding a blue ribbon in one hand and an orange one in the other. She would wear the blue one; the orange one conjured the image of the hot sun wrapped around her head. Just two more weeks and September would come, and with it some relief and normality, and hopefully, Dina.
***
“Charlie!” Johnny’s large frame folded almost in half as he bent and hugged Charlie warmly. The Alhambra’s customers giggled as two fairy-like legs dangled in mid-air, clasped as if by a bear.
“Nice to see you, too.” Charlie placed a small, delicate kiss in the middle of Johnny’s large cheek, and he placed her back on the ground like a fine crystal.
