by Glynis Smy
She was brought back to reality when, at last, the landlord spoke.
‘Mother, I think Miss Harper would like to look around. You sit and I will give her the guided tour.’
With an affectionate laugh, he added, ‘it will give you chance to catch your breath.’
‘Well really! See Miss Harper; see how this mother suffers with a brute of a son?’
Kitty giggled. And she began to relax.
There were two seats placed under the window, a small table was between them. It was a large window and looked out onto Jubilee Street. The stone floor looked cold and Kitty made a mental note that a rug would be needed to add warmth to the room. Added to the mental list were the curtains of the changing room along the back wall, they looked tired and drab. They faced the front door; fresh rich colours should hang there. Her customers would see them immediately they stepped into the shop. A good first impression, a colourful feature.
‘If you have seen enough here, we will go through into the kitchen. It is a pleasant room and well equipped.’
Lloyd Brennan stood back and allowed her to pass by. The kitchen fed off of a small hallway, with the stairs to the upstairs living space to its right. The kitchen was a good size and had a range for cooking. The hearth was raised, which would eliminate the backbreaking task of having to bend over the fire. Two ovens were built in alongside the firebox; each was fitted with a cast iron door. The surround was decorated with raised motifs of ropes, wheat, and medallions. A brass key was fitted to the upper oven. High on the right a warming shelf provided, dry storage. The previous lady of the house had kept it and the kitchen spotless, she had also left many of the items Kitty would need.
‘Can I enquire, Mr Brennan, as to whether the utensils will be included, or are they for sale? Should I decide to rent, I would need to buy new and if they are for sale I would be interested.’
Kitty stood with her hands behind her back, her fingers were crossed in hope.
‘We have no use for them, so you would be most welcome to them. So we will say they will be included in the rent.’
It was good news for Kitty and she smiled in appreciation.
‘Very well, thank you. It is a lovely room.’
The door led to a back yard. Brooms and rug beaters leaned against the boundary wall by a gate, beyond which was the alleyway that went back out onto Jubilee Street. There was nothing that made Kitty feel this was anything other than a yard, it served a purpose. She was more interested on looking upstairs at the place that might become her new home.
‘I will lead the way,’ Lloyd Brennan said, as they climbed the stairs. ‘Everything you see up here is included within the rent. Anything not required I will remove.’
When they reached the top, there was a small corridor. In front of them was a door, which led into a small room. To Kitty's delight it housed a long cutting table, an old but serviceable mannequin and joy of joys, a sewing machine. A modern piece of equipment she had never dreamed to own. She could not believe her eyes or her luck, this room was a treasure trove of goodies.
It had good light and was ideal as a workroom. The machine and table would save time. Her mind worked fast as she looked around. She would have enough money to spend on curtains for the shop, new fabrics, and other things to encourage customers to visit. He reassured her like the kitchen utensils, the sewing items were hers to use as she pleased. Her excitement mounted as they moved along the corridor.
The last room was a bedroom; it was a medium size and perfectly adequate for her needs. The large bed and wardrobe were the main items in the room, there were no curtains, but Kitty had already envisaged the fabric she would use to make new ones. The main living room had two good sturdy chairs, a dining table with four chairs, and a large oil lamp on a table by the fireplace. The windows were dressed with chintz curtains, they looked in good condition, again Kitty sent up a silent thank you.
Her mind was made up. She knew this was where she wanted to be, to start her new life and business. It could be made into a comfortable home; she knew she could be happy here. The young couple entered the shop floor. The older woman had her head slumped forward and snored softly.
‘Oh dear, mother seems to have gotten tired of waiting for us,’ he grinned at Kitty and motioned her to sit in the other chair. He went into the changing room and brought out a tired looking seat, which screamed out to Kitty to brighten it up and redress it.
‘Well, now you have had the grand tour Miss Harper, when will you bring your father or guardian for confirmation of the tenancy, or is it not suitable for you?’
Lloyd Brennan sat before her and she looked him directly in the face.
‘My father is unaware I am here today, Mr Brennan. The money for the business is mine. I am already established you see, and I need to move from home to an organised workplace. So on that basis I would like to become your new tenant, depending, of course on how much the rent is per week.’
The rental price was a good one, and Kitty signed the agreement. Her hand trembled while she held the pen.
With the papers signed, she walked home. Preparing the right words to break the news to her father. It would be hard to leave him, but she knew this was what life had chosen for her.
Chapter 13
Connections
James was bored -- he missed the farm. He enjoyed his visits to London but the countryside was where his heart lay. There was a space set aside in it for a beauty from Whitechapel, but the rest yearned for the one hundred and sixty acres of long winding lanes, with streamlets interwoven amongst the carpets of green. Bluebells and cowslips brightened up the darkest day, there were none to be found in the grime of London.
A small wooded area that lay in the middle of the farmland was his haven, a place he roamed when his black moods struck. Graveyards of evidence to those moods were dotted about, but for James this was not something that caused him fear or misery. It was a place of solace and learning.
The Mayoral parade was a few more days away and the family had chosen to stay in a pleasant guesthouse in the more pleasant part of Whitechapel. The rooms were large and airy, but this evening James felt stifled and hemmed in, he needed to walk. He left the rest of the family to play a game of cards and took a stroll. He allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of Kitty. He knew his feelings for her were growing daily, he was unsure of how he was going to deal with them. Although his father was not a rich man, he would certainly point out she was a class level beneath them. James knew there would be objections, but despite that fact, he wanted Kitty.
The thought of being alone with Kitty and taking her to his bed, excited him. Women were not something he had ever considered emotionally. They served a purpose for James. They fulfilled his sexual desires, nothing more. Kitty however, stirred something else inside of him, something he could not yet identify.
He turned into a side road and realised he had left the main road.
Damn and blast. Where the hell am I?
He stood in the entrance of a courtyard and worked out how to get to a drinking house he knew. Eventually he worked it out but he needed to cut through the yard.
Halfway across a noise distracted him. He turned towards it and spotted a shadowed figure crouched beside a bricked archway. Whoever it was had probably been disturbed by him. They were oblivious to the fact that, although they were hiding, their shadow gave them away. James smiled to himself.
Time for fun. Time to play. Probably a pair of lovers, and I have caught them in the act.
He continued at a steady pace and ambled towards the arch. He whistled softly and gave off what he hoped, was an air of nonchalance. When he reached the archway, he could just make out the figure, it had crouched slightly lower. James continued and walked straight past. Then with one swift movement he turned around and moved quickly towards the figure.
One person rose to full height, not the pair James had expected to find.
He could now see the figure was a male, at least someone in male clo
thing. He could not yet see their facial features. He laughed out loud.
‘I gave you a fright, sir I am sorry. I saw your shadow and decided to have a little...’ he broke off his chatter and stood still. Halted by shock.
Lying by the feet of the shadowed man was evidence of a woman. She was fully clothed and surrounded by a pool of what looked like blackened water. James soon established it was blood. Her clothes had been torn away to expose her breasts. James could see a fresh gaping wound. He moved closer, her insides lay exposed like slabs of meat at the butchers. There was a brief moment of revulsion from James; the incision was jagged from the groin to the breastbone.
‘For goodness sake--what have you done?’
The woman's head was nearly severed by a large cut either side of the neck.
The man raised his arm, and again his shadow gave him away. James grabbed him by the wrist.
‘What in the name of heaven have you done? What the-?’ His voice trailed off. He could not believe his eyes.
Arthur stood before him.
James composed himself, and Arthur pushed forward, ready to run. He stumbled over the body, but James retained his grip. Arthur kicked out and in doing so kicked the tools that lay by the body. Their tinny sound rang out around the yard. It stopped both men in their tracks, and they looked behind them to see if anyone else was in the vicinity. James kept his hold on Arthur; he pushed him against the wall. He kept his voice low and stared Arthur in the face.
‘Who is she? Do you know her?’ James spoke rapidly. He tried to fathom out why Arthur would be with the woman. ‘Was she a Tom? With you? Answer me. Did you see who killed her? Which way did he go?’
Arthur remained silent. Then his silence and defensive manner registered with James.
‘Not that I want to hear the answer, but I take it, it was you who killed her, Arthur?’
Still he got no reply; his prisoner stared back into his face. Arthur attempted to kick out. He pushed James away, but James had the advantage of strength and height.
‘What drove you to this? Is she the first? Did you do the others?’
James fired questions at him. When he got no response he softened his tone.
‘Listen man, I am not going to run screaming into the night. I need to speak to you. Give over kicking! We have to get away from here, we have to talk.’
Arthur found his voice. James was shocked by the tone; this was not the voice of the timid tutor he knew.
‘Piss off, I did not ask you to come sneaking around. Go, bugger off, and just go. Take yourself away from here. If you speak out about me, you will get what she did.’
James stayed in position; he did not attempt to leave. He had the upper hand, Arthur could go nowhere.
James released hold of Arthur’s arm but still blocked his way.
‘Calm down or you will attract attention to yourself. Let me help you. I will look upon this as an accident. Now do we leave her here or dispose of the body elsewhere? Come on Arthur. You have been caught. Think man. What are we going to do? I have no desire to become mixed up with this, but I am involved now. Therefore we need to talk.’
Arthur showed no signs of moving.
‘Arthur. Come on. Come with me.’
With the last command James lifted up bag of tools, lying close to the body. He gathered up the knife and cloths that lay scattered around. He pushed everything into the bag.
‘Give me a hand. We will pull her behind the barrels.’
Arthur responded and between them they tidied the area.
‘Let’s move out of here before we are seen. You have some explaining to do, Arthur.’
They walked with speed, but not a run, out into the main street. James checked there was no one around.
Not a word was spoken between them until they reached the nearest alehouse. Arthur wore James outer coat, to hide the small amount of blood on his clothes. No one gave them a second glance as they entered the tavern. They found a table in a far corner of the room.
‘This is an awkward state of affairs, Arthur. What are we going to do?’
He gulped down a mouthful of beer and waited for some kind of response.
Eventually Arthur spoke.
‘It is a weakness. I cannot help myself.’
‘Is she the first, Arthur?’
Arthur leaned forward and stared at James.
‘If I said no, what would you do?’
James gave a half-hearted grin.
‘Nothing, Arthur. Absolutely nothing. We need to sleep on this and meet up tomorrow. I give you my word as a gentleman, not to take the matter any further. You have to promise me however to meet. Do me that one thing. I have spared you tonight; give me tomorrow for one meeting.’
Arthur rose from his seat.
‘Agreed’ He held out his hand. ‘Thank you and I will meet you at 27, Union Street. I have a room there. It is not where I live, just a place I use now and then.’
James nodded, shook Arthur’s hand, and left the tavern.
***
James stared down into his glass; he watched the amber liquid swirl as he tilted it side to side. He had not slept well. Old nightmares mingled with fresh new thoughts and prevented sleep. The Brandy he sipped for breaking fast was not ideal, but necessary to calm his nerves. He was due to meet with Arthur at eight thirty and his stomach was in knots. Excitement and tension battled with gastric juices. He clenched and unclenched his fist while thinking. His nails dug into his palm, harder and harder each time. The pain did nothing to block out the inner turmoil.
The discovery of Arthur and his confession of killing women for the thrill had brought about so many emotions for James. Many questions.
What if Kitty found out he had assisted Arthur and not reported the murder? How would he and Arthur cope if she did? Could he kill her? Would he kill her? Would Arthur kill her?
He downed the last of the brandy and placed the glass carefully onto the table beside him. He had had a strong urge to throw it against the wall, but he needed to stay in control. He looked at the clock. It was time to leave.
What should my approach be? Should I let Arthur start the conversation? Or should I? Now Arthur, we -. Arthur we must-. No point pondering. I must get to see him.
He grabbed his jacket, took a deep breath, and left his room.
‘Going somewhere?’
The aggressive tone of his father’s voice irritated James. He turned to face him. A sour faced, grey haired man, James could see nothing beyond that image.
‘I am, sir. I have an appointment. Granted an early one, but it is my only chance to um-err’ James faltered. He tried to think of a valid reason to be leaving so early.
‘Stop your gossiping, man. If you have an appointment, then do not delay. Business transactions can be lost due to tardiness. I assume it is farm business, and not some skirt lifter you are attending to?’
James father’s glare unnerved him, and James could feel the burning sensation of irritation stir within. If he carried on talking, he would waste precious time, he would also answer his father back in a sarcastic tone. He always did when he felt cornered, and it had led to many arguments. He needed to take control.
‘Yes, farm business. I met a man the day before yesterday talking about the new seeding methods. With our mix of grazing animals, I wondered about turning over a meadow and-’
‘Do not stand there talking to me about it. Get out there and discuss it with your appointment. We will talk about it this evening. Along with the other subject you keep avoiding. Now go.’
James father barked out his dismissal and James nodded a goodbye. The news to be discussed yet again would be his refusal to marry a neighbouring farmer’s daughter.
He reached Arthur’s address in good time. Arthur must have been watching out for him, the door opened before James could lift the brass knocker.
‘Who looks worse, you or me? Did you get any sleep?’ James stepped inside the room. Arthur grunted back at him.
‘Not a
lot. Did some thinking.’ He lifted a decanter. ‘Drink? I need one.’
‘Yes please. Then we need to talk, not drink. We have a serious problem on our hands.’
Arthur handed James a glass and both men settled into chairs facing each other.
‘Yes. I gave it a bit of thought, about what you did-or rather what you did not do, last night.’
Arthur stared directly at him, and it made James uncomfortable. The stare was threatening. James deepened his voice and his words came out in a whispered hiss.
‘You can wipe that look from your face. I will not be intimidated. Do you understand? You killed a woman. I caught you. Now we must face facts. Not threaten each other.’
Arthur’s glass slammed onto the table and James jumped.
‘Threatening, am I?’ Arthur stared at him again.
‘Listen. We are going around in circles. I am going to tell you something. Maybe it will help you understand my lack of reaction to your -- incident.’
‘I am listening. Go on.’ Arthur settled back into his seat. He listened to James relay his past anxieties and how he relieved them.
‘Well. Well. Well. Mr I-am-so-perfect is not so perfect after all.’ Arthur sneered when James had finished talking. ‘I wonder what Kitty would have to say about your little story?’
James jumped to his feet. He banged his hand onto the fire mantle. Arthur’s goading had gone too far.
‘Stop right there. Kitty has nothing to do with this. If you want your secret kept from her, you had better keep your mouth shut about mine. I mean it. I might only kill animals, but I am sure a human could be snuffed out just as easily.’ James kept his voice with a level, deep tone.