Only the Thunder Knows_East End Girls

by Gord Rollo, Rena Mason

  “What on earth for?” her mother said.

  “The men would like me to join them later at the station.”

  “The police station?”

  “Well, I can’t very well have them at the gentlemen’s club now can I?”

  “Indeed, you cannot.”

  Then Eliza wondered if her Samaritan went to clubs. He was certainly dressed for it. Her father turned his attention to her. “Seems I was right, and the murderer has become more vicious. This is why they need my insight.”

  Her mother turned toward the two talking and listened.

  “You must help them, Father. I just wish there was something I could do, too.”

  “Thomas,” said her mother. “I’ve told your daughter she’s not to leave this house without taking one of our carriages. I won’t have it.”

  “Yes, dear,” he said. “I’m sure Eliza is well aware of the situation.” He looked at his daughter and rolled his eyes.

  Eliza smiled and took a sip of tea.

  * * *

  For the next week, the family’s carriage took Eliza everywhere she needed to go. She didn’t want to admit it, but riding in the coach with the curtains closed really did make her feel safe. Even though she knew Catherine Eddowes—the London Star had revealed the prostitute’s surname—was no longer following her, Eliza wondered if her gentlemen Samaritan friend might come looking around. She thought he could have the same curiosities about her that she had for him. And what would he think about her evolving his brutality without his own hand in it? Perhaps he’d be angry with her for bringing so much attention to himself. Maybe he was plotting to kill her, or even worse, expose the truth. The thoughts would drive her mad if she continued this way.

  The Samaritan was a gentleman and therefore would be educated. He wouldn’t allow himself to be caught under any circumstances. Besides, he’d been killing prostitutes and women of ill-repute in the East End. It was obvious he knew Eliza didn’t belong there, had even said as much. She had nothing to worry about. Soon enough she’d be a graduate physician and then married off. Her heart sunk as the last of her thoughts seemed rather dull. What would living with Henry be like compared to saving lives and taking them, blackmail, and riding in a carriage with Jack the Ripper? She knew exactly what it would be like—it would be suffocating.

  After breakfast, Nanette, who’d smartly kept quiet about having to wash the filthy skirts, cloak, and frock coat, helped Eliza put on a different coat, hat, and gloves. Then, while Eliza waited for the family carriage to pull up front, an altogether different one raced from up the street and halted at the gate in a peculiar angle. Eliza couldn’t help but think it might be Jack the Ripper, her Samaritan gentleman, come to call—or kill. Her heart began to race. The carriage’s driver came round and opened the door. To Eliza’s surprise, a servant stepped down and was hurriedly walking toward the house. Eliza went out and met the woman at the gate, just as her own carriage pulled up. It was the Williams’s maid, her eyes teary and full of fear. “Please, Miss,” the maid said. “It’s Mrs. Williams. She needs you as fast as you can come.”

  Eliza told her driver she’d be riding in the Williams’s carriage. He nodded and turned around. Then she followed the Williams’s maid into their carriage. “What happened?” Eliza said. The carriage sped up the street, bouncing them around in the back.

  “Sir Jon left early. You know he spends Fridays helping the poor at London Hospital.”

  “Yes, yes, I know.” Although we’re both well aware he’s doing more than that.

  “I went to help Mrs. Williams dress for breakfast and found her still in bed. She wasn’t coming to. I even shook her.”

  “But why send for me? Doctor Williams is—”

  “This fell from her hand.” The maid passed a small glass bottle to Eliza. She raised it and took a whiff. The scent was mildly astringent. A label on the outside of the bottle read, laudanum. “There was another empty one on her night table next to the bed.”

  Eliza’s heart sank. Laudanum was useful in small doses, but deadly in large amounts. She was about to yell out at the driver to hurry when the carriage pulled up to the Williams’s house. The two women opened the door and climbed out on their own, then ran into the house. Ann’s body was as the maid had described it, sprawled out across the bed. She was alive, but her breathing was very slow and her pulse faint. “Does anyone else know?” Eliza said.

  “No,” the maid said. “Not even the driver. I shut the door when I left and told the rest of them to stay out. That Mrs. Williams was feeling ill today.”

  “Good. Then it would make sense that you called for me—very smart. “What’s your name?”

  “It’s Abigail, Miss.”

  “All right, Abigail, let’s get Mrs. Williams sitting up in bed. We’ll need to wash her, change the clothes she has on. Have someone in the kitchen make her some tea. Tell them to knock first, and then you take the tray. I’ll also need you to send your driver to the Royal Free Hospital to tell a Professor Huxley I will not be attending classes today.”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “Let’s use cool water.”

  Eliza helped Abigail with every aspect of the care. Ann urinated on herself and soaked the bed sheets only an hour after they’d got her dressed, so they had to go through the entire routine again, but all the commotion seemed to be causing her to stir. Off and on she’d been opening her eyes. Eliza held a candle near Ann’s face to get a better look and noted that her pupils were pinpoints.

  The maid gently held her head, while Ann took several sips of tea. After which she lay back against the pillows, then suddenly sat straight up with bulging eyes and opened her mouth. A dark liquid shot across the bed in a steady stream. Eliza and Abigail looked at one another with wide eyes.

  Ann groaned and then lay down again. For the next hour, she would rouse, vomit, and then pass out, but she was becoming much more coherent during the times she was awake. Pushing away the cup of tea and shaking her head no.

  It was late afternoon when Eliza thought Ann was stable enough for her to leave. She gave Abigail strict instructions to follow, and she was to send for her again if there were any problems. “When does Sir Jon come home?” Eliza said.

  “Not ‘til very late on Fridays, Miss.”

  “Good. Try and keep him away from her if you can, for the next day or so.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms for months. Hardly talk to one another at all anymore.”

  “Has she done this before?”

  Abigail lowered her eyes and nodded. “It was never as bad as this, Miss.”

  Sweltering rage filled Eliza’s chest. She took in a deep breath which only compounded the sensation of hate rising beneath her ribcage. Eliza rushed to the bedroom door, swung it open and headed for the foyer.

  “Shall I call for the carriage?” the maid said.

  “No, thank you. I’ll walk.”

  Stepping out into the cold air felt like a sledgehammer against her chest so full of heat and rage. Eliza couldn’t exhale fast enough and began choking on the Williams’s porch. She started walking before anyone saw and came to assist her.

  How could Sir Jon be so cruel? Her boot heels clacked against the icy street and the sounds resonated from the high treetops. Were all men this way? Perhaps even her father? She didn’t want to know or even think it. Men were inherently lecherous, it seemed, and there was no way to prevent it—except to perhaps, eliminate the temptation.

  Chapter

  15

  Ann Williams had sent a basket of fresh fruit to the Covington household two days later. “My goodness,” Eliza’s mother said. “How lovely, and grapes, too. Very decadent for this time of year, she must have special ordered them. Apparently, your visit with her went well, although she was a bit late in sending her regards.” She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled at a corner.

  “We merely caught up on what had been happening in our lives. Ann is a wonderful pers
on and a dear friend, if a bit awkward in society.”

  “I only wish she would come out more. It would do her a world of good. It’s a shame she can’t have children. I’ve heard rumors of Sir Jon’s affairs.”

  “Mother!”

  “Well, I won’t give you any details, but Ann should be out showing support for him and not mulling around at home. It only lets everyone know the rumors are true. Maybe you should mention it to her on your next visit. I assume you’ll be seeing her again.”

  “Maybe. I’m busy these next few weeks.” Eliza finished her tea.

  “Which reminds me, the baker—”

  “Mother, you choose. Please, for anything else that comes up, pick what you would have wanted for your own wedding. I trust your tastes and know you’ll arrange the wedding of the century. My suggestions will only make it drab and I know how important this is to you.”

  “Eliza, you can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “But it’s your special day.”

  “And it will be even more special if you arrange everything, Mother.”

  Tears began to swell in her mother’s eyes. She raised a napkin to dab them. Eliza rose from her chair, walked over, and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ve got to head out now, but promise me you’ll take care of all the wedding plans.”

  “Of course, dear, but you should have eaten something more.”

  Eliza left the room before her mother burst into tears. It was apparent she was on the verge. What mother doesn’t dream of planning her only daughter’s wedding? And be fortunate enough to have one like Eliza who wants no part in it.

  Soon there would be obligatory dinners to attend at the Osborne’s home and holiday gatherings. Time was running out and then she’d be married and have to move. The life she knew and loved was coming to an end, but she had no intention of giving it up quietly.

  No. Not quietly at all.

  * * *

  The Royal Free Hospital on Henrietta Street, associated with The London School of Medicine for Women, was a teaching hospital. The girls would make their rounds and take notes that Professor Huxley would go over the following day. It was busier than usual, so Eliza and her classmates were spread throughout the building, seeing patients on their own. Vagrants were lined up one after the other, waiting behind makeshift partitions of thin sheets used for curtains.

  Eliza walked over to an isolated corner and pulled back the linen. A pretty young woman with blonde hair, not nearly as fair or golden as hers, sat at the edge of a table. She looked up when Eliza rifled through her medical papers. Her eyes were a pale blue compared to Eliza’s bright ones. “Hello, Miss. Can you tell me when the doctor will be in to see me?”

  “I am the doctor.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought that—”

  “I was a nurse.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  Eliza continued flipping through the pages, then went back to the first one and froze. Eyes wide, she looked at the woman and then back down at the notes. “Your name?” she said.

  “Mary Kelly, just like it says on those papers you’ve been reading.”

  A bit uppity for a prostitute. It was an extremely convenient coincidence however, and had to have more meaning than to simply taunt her. Fate was telling her what she had to do. Thinking quick, she brushed off the harlot’s snippy remark. “Sometimes the nurses make mistakes and put the wrong papers in the room. I imagine you’d feel better if I made sure this was really you.”

  “Oh, yes, Miss, I mean, doctor. I’m sorry, just a bit nervous is all, and I’d like to be heading back to East End before dark.”

  “I understand. How can I help you?” She hoped it was syphilis.

  “Well, if I can trust you.” Mary spoke with a honeyed voice and looked up with angelic eyes. Eliza could see how this pathetic charm might work on Sir Jon, but she wanted nothing more than to slit this woman’s throat right this very moment.

  “I assure you. I’m as silent as the grave.”

  “Well, I suppose. You are a doctor, right?”

  “Yes, I am.” Or rather, will be, very soon.

  Mary looked her up and down for a moment, took in a deep breath then spoke softly. “I’ve been seeing a gentleman as of late, and I mean a real gentleman. He’s got no children of his own and I’d like to give him one or more.”

  The rage began to swell within Eliza. Heat erupted from her chest and radiated to her limbs, veins and arteries searing with molten hatred. It needed to be controlled. There was no way to extinguish this despicable woman right here at this very moment.

  “Why didn’t you go to the London Hospital in East End?” Eliza said. “They could have helped you there.” Eliza was sure it was because Mary didn’t want Sir Jon to find out what she was up to. She wondered what he would do, if anything, were he to discover it.

  “They know me too well at that place, if you know what I mean. I wanted to keep things private. Like I told you, it’s a gentleman I’m seeing. He’d want me to come here anyhow if he knew. A hospital with lots of women ought to know more about having babies.”

  “So this gentleman, he doesn’t know your plan?” Eliza was pleased she could feign concern, when what she really wanted was to stab her pencil into the woman’s eye.

  “No, I want to surprise him. Don’t look down on me doctor, it’s not what you think. He loves me, and he’d be overjoyed if I could give him a baby. He wants one more than anything else in the whole world.”

  “I see. Well, has everything been working properly down there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your monthly is regular?”

  “Yes.”

  Eliza couldn’t help wondering why Mary even bothered coming to the hospital and was certain it showed on her face.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “My womanly parts are working fine. I just want to know if there’s a way I can get pregnant faster, help it along somehow.”

  “Ah…well, that’s all you had to say.” Eliza smiled, her rage buried under miles of cool ice. “There’s a new elixir some are using to do what it is you want. It promotes health and optimizes the reproductive system.”

  “Why haven’t I heard of it?”

  “Scientists and doctors are just now testing it. I shouldn’t have said anything. You must swear to secrecy.” Eliza squinted and put her index finger over her lips and whispered, “Shhh.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mary said.

  “This hospital is where they are testing it.”

  “Oh, that’s good news. Can I have some then?”

  “I’m quite sure you understand they are very particular about who gets it.”

  “Saving it for the rich are they?”

  “But maybe…”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “No, it’s a silly idea.”

  “It isn’t. Please, you’ve got to help me.”

  “Well, every now and again I do charity work at the East End. What if I were to take some from here and bring it to you after I was done with my duties?”

  “Or I could just meet you here?”

  “No, that won’t do. It would give me away for sure if someone saw us talking. It will have to be at night, when I’ve finished my work. I’ll understand if you’re too eager and want to look for something else, there are plenty others that would—”

  “Don’t cut me off, yet. I’m willing to wait. About how long you think?”

  “In a week, or two at the latest.”

  “Well, that’s not long at all. I’m up for it.”

  “Since it will be dark soon, you should probably head back to East End. When I come to see you with the elixir, I’ll give you a physical exam then as well if you’d like.”

  Mary hopped off the table edge. “Such service—who am I to get a personal doctor’s visit, and a treatment as well?”

  “I feel for your needs. You and your gentleman friend seem desperate for a child.”

  “Yes doctor, very mu
ch so.”

  “Where shall I come when it’s all ready?”

  “Miller’s Court. Number 13.”

  “Good. You have your own place?”

  “Well, yes. I told you I was seeing a gentleman.”

  “Ah,” Eliza said. Sir Jon must be paying for this wench’s room. The thought sickened her and the anger swelled again. “I have no way of getting a message to you, so I’ll be there when I can. It will be later in the evening, though. That I know.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  “Good day to you then, Miss Kelly,” Eliza said through gritted teeth.

  Mary grabbed Eliza’s hand and shook it. “Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much.” Then she leaned over, brought it up to her lips and kissed it.

  Eliza pulled her hand away. “That’s not necessary,” she said.

  Mary Kelly laughed as she walked out of the partitioned room. It was obvious that she knew she’d made Eliza uncomfortable and was taking advantage.

  Behind the makeshift curtain, Eliza clenched the medical papers and held her breath. Feeling faint, she reached over and leaned against the table. Several minutes passed until normalcy came again. She folded up the papers, pushed them into her pocket, then moved the curtain to the side and walked down the hall with a smile across her face.

  Chapter

  16

  A few days after her encounter with Mary Kelly, Eliza was deeply focused on a dissection of the human heart when Professor Huxley leaned over her shoulder, the odors of liver and onions on his breath. “What is that pinched between your forceps, Miss Covington?” He moved his spectacles down to the tip of his nose.

  “A vein, sir.” Somewhat startled by him, her words came out more like a question than an answer.

  The professor leaned closer to her ear and whispered. “Why bother coming to exams later in the month, you’ll only embarrass the both of us, and you’re already guaranteed to pass.”

  “It is a vein, sir,” she said with more confidence.

  “For what?” He spoke up and straightened his posture.