by Helen Phifer
9th September 1888
Once again, as I took my breakfast I read in the newspaper that another woman had been murdered in the most despicable way in Whitechapel. Annie Chapman had her throat cut just like the last one. The report went on describe her other injuries which were atrocious and it made my blood run cold to think of the pain and suffering these poor women endured. I have no idea why it affects me so. Maybe it is because I know Edward is in London and has dealings with such poor women that it brings it home to me. This woman was also found with a clean white handkerchief placed on her throat. Did the killer feel guilty about what he had done and tried to cover it over? I will never know, thankfully. I will have to ask Edward if he lives anywhere near to this dreadful Whitechapel place. I hope he does not for it sounds as if the people who live in this place have very little money. Edward does not have to worry about that for he is fortunate enough to have plenty.
I have felt sick and tired all day but I don’t know if it because these murders sicken me so and I cannot get them out of my mind or whether it is because I am coming down with something. I feel so drained and sick to the stomach all the time.
15th September 1888
Edwards’s guilty conscience must have got the better of him for he arrived home unexpectedly today. I still feel no better and at dinner he wanted to know why I was picking at my food and not eating. He lectured me on the effects of a poor diet. I told him I had been feeling unwell and he insisted on me telling him my symptoms and checking my pulse and temperature. He did not think there was anything serious but insisted that we call out Doctor Smith first thing to confirm everything was fine. I told him to stop making a fuss but he would not listen.
As we sat in the library and talked about our plans for the future he told me he could not stop thinking about how cruel he had been on his last visit home. He apologised again but never mentioned my wanting a baby.
He had given the staff the evening off so we had the house to ourselves, which was a rare treat. For a time it was like it used to be and we made love so tenderly, just like all those months ago. Then he carried me upstairs where we lay in each other’s arms until we fell asleep.
18th September 1888
Alfie came home on leave from the army today and I could not hide my excitement to see him again: I have missed him so dearly. I waited outside with Cook and Harold for him to arrive. When the horse and carriage pulled up in front of the house I ran down the steps and threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He hugged me back for a short time and then stepped back as if I were burning him. I turned to see Edward watching from the billiard room window and I felt my cheeks flush. Edward was angry. I could tell by the way he was holding himself so stiff and upright. I felt my stomach clench.
Harold helped Alfie inside with his case and I retreated to go and find Edward. He was nowhere to be seen. Cook informed me he was in the cellar again. I reached the cellar door and then stopped myself. To this day I cannot bear to go down there, it still scares me so I left him to it. He told me the last time I asked him what it was he did down there that he was sorting through his parents belongings and did not want me to interrupt him. He said there were too many memories that belonged to him alone. I went back to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Cook placed a plate of freshly baked gingerbread on the table in front of me and for the first time in a week I felt my stomach growl with hunger. Gingerbread is Alfie’s favourite although if you asked her if she had made it especially for him she would no doubt deny it. Next she placed the big, tin teapot on the table and an assortment of cups and saucers. Alfie and Harold walked in and I was mother and poured the tea. We all listened to Alfie’s tales of faraway places and laughed for he was so funny. Even Harold, who normally took notice of no one nor nothing, was intrigued.
I have no idea how long we had been sitting there when Edward came into the kitchen. He nodded at Alfie and told me to come with him to the morning room. I excused myself and followed him. I knew he was furious with me and I was terrified of what was about to follow. I always knew he was jealous of Alfie but I had no idea just how much. He slammed the door shut and demanded that I was never to go and sit in the kitchen again; he told me it was a place for servants and not the Lady of the House. He was pacing back and forth across the floor. Suddenly he stopped abruptly and turned to stare at me: his eyes were black. Then he told me that if he caught me talking or touching Alfie again he would beat me until not one person on this earth would ever look at me again. I was scared because I knew that he meant every word he had just spoken. I apologised and tried to explain that Alfie was like a brother to me and we had grown up in this house with only each other for company. He struck me so hard that my head snapped back and my face began to burn. He grabbed my hair, which I had spent so long dressing this morning, and pulled it so hard the tears began to stream down my face. When he let go I ran out of the room and up the stairs to my attic bedroom and slammed the door shut. I threw myself onto the bed and cried myself to sleep. Edward never came looking for me and for that I was thankful.
28th September 1888
Edward has not spoken to me for over a week now. The atmosphere in the house is horrid. The doctor called this morning to tell me why the sickness has not improved. He told me that I am with child. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. I was so relieved that I wasn’t seriously ill but I was also scared to tell Edward. Surely he would not still be angry with me when he finds out he is to be a father, for there is no greater gift than that of a child. I am hoping that this will bring back the Edward that I miss so much, the Edward who loves me and does not want to hurt me.
I could not stop myself and rushed to go and find him to tell him the good news. I found him in his study, head bent and writing a letter. He did not even look up at me he was so absorbed in his writing. I coughed and startled him for he looked up and slid the paper underneath the blotter. I walked in, closing the door behind me. He asked me what I wanted and I told him our wonderful news. I expected him to scoop me into his arms and kiss me. Instead he pushed himself up from his chair, the colour drained from his face leaving it a deathly white mask, his black eyes glared and he walked past me out of the room without speaking. I do not know what goes on in his mind. One moment he is happy and kind, the next he is cruel and violent.
I wondered how things would have been if it was Alfie I had married and was telling this news to. I know for a fact he would have picked me up and swung me around the room, whooping with joy. Dear happy Alfie who would no more lift a hand to swat a fly and rather die than hit me, unlike Edward, who I think takes great pleasure in hurting me.
I fear that the Edward I married was an illusion but I have no idea why. He is returning to London tomorrow so I busied myself packing his trunk and bags. I asked Harold if he knew where Edward was and he told me that he had gone down into the cellar. I smiled, thanking him for I do not want anyone to know of the difficulties between Edward and myself, it is my problem and mine alone.
29th September 1888
How foolish I was thinking that becoming a father would put an end to his brutal outbursts. Last night he forced himself upon me and it hurt so much I was afraid I would lose my baby. He kept on biting me and holding my arms down so hard that today I am covered in bruises, the marks all down my arms and over my chest. I was so terrified for the child inside me that I did not struggle but lay there with silent tears of sadness rolling down my cheeks. He then went downstairs and drank so much of that awful whisky he likes so much that when he came back up he reeked of it. He was so drunk that he collapsed onto the bed fully clothed and fell asleep. His snores were so loud and he repulsed me enough that I crept from our marital bed up to my old bedroom.
How I longed to be a housemaid again. I used to think that I would never finish my chores and that I was so badly done to. Ha! How little did I know? Carrying heavy buckets of soapy water to scrub the stairs and spending all day on my hands and knees polishing floors until they sparkled
, the thought of that life appeals to me so much more than being the beaten wife of the master of the house.
Edward got up this morning and never spoke a word to me: no apologies for his behaviour this time. Harold loaded the horse and carriage and I watched from the schoolroom window as Edward climbed in and did not even turn around to see if I was there.
I still catch my breath when I look at him for he is such a handsome man. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure that my life is real. I think back to last year when everything was so perfect and he knew nothing but passion for me: I miss it so much. Deep down in my heart I know that I love him even though at the moment I am also terrified of him. I understand that he may still be grieving and things are difficult for him. Despite everything that he keeps doing to me I still feel a sense of duty towards him for he is my husband.
I went downstairs to the kitchen knowing that it would be safe for me to do so now he had left. As I reached the door I overheard Cook gossiping to Alfie about things not being so perfect for the housekeeper’s daughter now. I bowed my head and walked away not wanting to hear any more of her spiteful gossip. I did not want to see the pity or even scorn on Alfie’s face and I did not want to hear them say what they were all thinking: ‘Who did you think you were, Alice Hughes?’
I have no idea what I am to do about my predicament and have no one that I can turn to. I just hope and pray that once Edward has time to think things over in London that he will calm down and call me to beg my forgiveness.
I would give anything to confide in Alfie like I used to but he makes himself busy when I enter the room. Cook informed me he is returning to the army tomorrow.
Last night I dreamed about a life with Alfie. I know that he loves children because he talks about his sisters with great fondness. I am trapped in this most beautiful house with a man who does not love me and, in fact, I fear he loathes me more than anything else. I can only be thankful that Edward spends so much of his time in London for I dread to think what kind of life I should lead if he lived here all the time.
I could stand it no longer and went to find Alfie. He was outside in the greenhouse tending to the plants for Thomas the gardener. He looked at me for the first time in days and I could see the shock register on his face. I had not realised until this point exactly how dreadful I looked. He asked me what I was doing talking to him when it was obvious Edward – he almost spat the word out – had told me I was not allowed to. There was so much I wanted to say to him but instead I began to cry like a pitiful little girl. Alfie put down the watering can and walked over towards me. He paused, unsure what to do but then he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I felt foolish but I could not stop myself. Everything I had bottled up seemed to come out in those tears. I rested my head on his chest.
After a while he led me to our broken bench and once again we sat down on it and I poured out my heart to him. I told him of the beatings which Edward gave to me; he made me roll up my sleeves to look at the bruises on my arms. He was so angry at Edward but still his eyes stayed the calmest of blue. He kissed my bruised arms tenderly and my eyes filled with tears once more. I told him that I was with a child that Edward did not want and I told him of my longing to be in servitude once more. This made Alfie laugh and he told me that I was never cut out to be a servant in the first place. He told me how beautiful I was and how he had loved me from the very first day I had walked into the house when I was nine years old and he had been twelve. He said I had hid behind my mother’s long skirts and had tears falling down my cheeks that day because I had fallen over onto the gravel drive and cut my knee. The long forgotten memories rushed back and we sat there for hours talking until we were both ravenous and had to go back inside. Alfie told me that he had to go back to the army but when he was next home he would help me pack up my belongings and move away with him, somewhere as far away from Abbey Wood as possible. He told me he would love the child as if it were his own because it was part of me. We would tell the people where we moved that we were married and that no one would have to know any different because it was our secret.
For the first time in months I felt as if my life could have a happy ending, just like in the fairytale books I used to read. Alfie pulled me from the bench and kissed me. It was wonderful and it felt as if our lips were meant to be together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Horse’s hooves in the distance made us pull apart and I feared that Edward had returned. I ran from the greenhouse back to the house, my stomach a tight knot. I waited in the library, watching to see who it was. Much to my relief it was the grocer making his weekly delivery for Cook. Much later on I found Alfie and made him promise never to speak of our plans to anyone for I know that if Edward were to find out he would kill the both of us, of this I have no doubt. Alfie took my hand and lifted it to his lips. Kissing it tenderly he promised it would be our secret until the day we left and never came back.
As I write this, my heart feels so much lighter. Now that I have unburdened my soul, I know that Alfie will take care of us both and I will not have to fear for my unborn baby’s life with him. I am making plans and for the first time I feel that there is hope. I will gather only the important things that I need and store them in my mother’s old trunk in my attic room. I will have to ask Mr Ernest how I withdraw the money that was left to me but I will not do this until I know the date that Alfie is coming home to fetch me in case he alerts Edward, although I feel I will be able to buy his silence for he is a strange little man.
30th September 1888
Alfie left this morning and with him he took all of my heart, not just the small piece that has always belonged to him. I watched him from the schoolroom window as I did not want Cook to see me waving him goodbye for she cannot help herself from making idle gossip. How ironic this was the parting that should have been between Edward and myself yesterday. Instead there had only been relief that I would suffer no more pain until his next visit home.
As the carriage moved away Alfie turned to look up at the window. He blew me a kiss which I caught and blew straight back. He gave me that boyish grin that I love so much, and my heart filled with joy. I am so fortunate that he is still willing to love me even though I let Edward into my life when all along it should have been him. I am so thankful that he has found it in his heart to forgive me. I will make him the happiest man on earth and take care of him like he deserves. I have not once seen Alfie’s eyes turn black with anger and hatred. They always remain the purest of blue; so still and gentle like the calmest sea.
Chapter 20
Derek drove into town to the police station with butterflies in his stomach. He parked in the public car park opposite and fed his money into the machine for a ticket. It could be a while before he got to speak to someone. He walked to the main entrance and plucked up the courage to go inside the building. There was a row of bright blue plastic chairs bolted to the floor. Sitting on them were two young girls who were bickering over a lost phone. He stepped close to the glass counter and pressed the bell. A woman came through immediately with a smile on her face, her name badge said ‘Lena’. Derek smiled back.
‘Hello, my dear, I wonder if I could speak to a police officer in private please. I’m very sorry I can’t disclose what the matter is to you.’
She nodded. ‘That’s fine, don’t worry about that, can I take your name and I’ll get someone to come and speak to you.’ He told her his name and she asked him to take a seat. He sat down as far away from the two girls as possible: they were still arguing. After only ten minutes a young woman opened the heavy wooden door next to him and said his name. Derek stood up and smiled at her, then followed her through the door into a small interview room with a table, four chairs and a tiny window.
‘Mr Edmondson my name is Sally. I’m a community support officer. Would you like to tell me what the problem is?’
‘Well, this is going to sound as if I’m mad and believe me I’m embarrassed to have to come here and say it but I am not mad and I really n
eed to tell someone about it and you, my dear, have drawn the short straw. There is a woman I met who needs help and I don’t know anything about her except her name is probably Annie. You see I’m a psychic medium and she came to a meeting at a spiritualist church last week. I got a message from my spirit guide about her and it was a serious one.’
Sally wrote it all down on a scrap of paper. ‘Go on, Mr Edmondson, I’m listening.’
‘Well, I can’t get her out of my mind and I know something terrible is going to happen. I need to find her so I can help her. I think I have her car registration or something similar. If I gave it to you would you be able to trace her and check that she is alright and pass a message on from me? I understand I’m asking a lot but I can’t stress how important this is, her life may be in danger.’
‘I can do a check on the registration which will give me her name and address but I’m afraid I can’t give that information out to you, sir, it’s confidential. But I can ask the area officer to call and pass your contact details onto her. Would that be OK? I’m sorry but it’s the best I can do.’
