A House of Repute

by E M Jones

  By the time Lizzie descended the stairs, Mrs Henry was blushing, her giggle rippling up the stairs, carrying the spirit of excited girls coming of age. Lizzie took a deep breath and held on to the banister, still for a moment, then continued her descent.

  “Oh, Lizzie, what a charming young man.” Mrs Henry turned to Lizzie, her face like a prize-winning tomato.

  Lizzie’s false smile slipped, and she kept walking. “Yes, indeed, Mrs Henry.”

  She made for the kitchen, her head tilting towards the tiled floor. She heard Ted gallantly wish Mrs Henry a good day and the rustle of paper notes as he handed her his payment. Lizzie studied the floor tiles intently, pushing back silly thoughts of emotion and affection betrayed by Ted’s payment.

  She followed a symmetrical pattern on the tiled floor until she felt ready to face Mrs Henry. When she looked up, Charlie was watching her with an expression of overwhelming sadness.

  ***

  With the tidying complete and the sun too warm to be comfortable, Charlie and Lizzie decided to take advantage of a free afternoon and have a walk in the open Regent’s Park. They strolled in thoughtful silence until they had passed through the gates and Charlie hooked Lizzie’s arm into her own.

  “Are you alright?” Charlie searched Lizzie’s face for some clue or reassurance.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  The two women walked on a path past brittle grass and flowers with curled, crisp petals.

  “If you’re not fine, you can say.”

  Lizzie smiled at Charlie’s doggedness. “I’m fine, honestly. What about you, anyway. Any new bruises?”

  Charlie grimaced. “One or two, nothing too bad, and out of sight this time.”

  “Charlie! Don’t go with her again.”

  “Lizzie, you may not have noticed, but I don’t have the means to pick and choose my customers. It’s not me they’re fighting over.”

  Lizzie blushed, and damned herself for doing so so easily. “That was—it was…”

  “It was a noble effort on behalf of Colonel Ted to secure your virtue and your heart in one decisive act of gallantry. What he didn’t realise is that your virtue is long gone and your heart not for sale, so rather foolish if you ask me.”

  Lizzie stopped. She conjured the tiles from Mrs Henry’s hallway onto the park path and studied them.

  “I’m sorry, Lizzie. Too far?”

  Lizzie nodded silently, still creating imaginary geometric shapes on the path.

  “Lizzie, don’t start caring for this man. As Dina would say, it’s work.”

  Lizzie looked up into Charlie’s kind face and pushed her features into a half smile. “I know, Charlie. He’s just a nice man.”

  Charlie smiled. “He is, and that’s fine, but don’t get carried away.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise me?”

  “Promise.”

  The two young women walked along a bend in the path and continued in thoughtful silence.

  ***

  By six o’clock, Mrs Henry’s house was once more a frenzy of cheap satin, perfume and paint, and Lizzie prepared for a night’s work. She was just selecting a rather lurid pink to wear when there was a timid knock on the door.

  “Yes?”

  Mrs Henry’s head appeared, surprisingly politely, around the worn wood.

  “Everything alright, Mrs Henry?”

  “Yes. Well, I’m not sure…”

  Mrs Henry was seldom unsure. Lizzie put down her paint and turned to face her. She looked older and smaller than usual, as if she could easily be sat at a fire knitting for grandchildren rather than managing a brothel.

  “What is it, Mrs Henry?”

  “It’s Dina. She hasn’t come back yet. You know that I let her stay away with Sir Glynne, when she needs to, but she’s not back, and that isn’t like her. I thought all three of you were going out together tonight—she would make sure she was here with you. I’m sure she’s fine; she’s probably mixing with high society and decorating Sir Glynne’s arm at a grand ball. But this isn’t like her—she won’t have a clean dress. Do you think she’s alright, Lizzie?”

  Lizzie cursed herself. She had been so taken up by her own feelings she hadn’t even thought about Dina. “Let me get Charlie. Mrs Henry, sit down, and don’t worry.”

  She tried not to run across the landing to fetch Charlie, fear rising from her stomach like a brewing storm.

  When Charlie and Lizzie got back, Mrs Henry was sat on Lizzie’s bed, looking even more like a kind and fragile grandmother.

  Charlie’s eyes shone with anxious energy, and she looked as though she might cry or punch someone. “Right, Mrs H, let’s think. Dina was with us at The Alhambra last night. Did she come back here?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  “Right, so she must be with Sir Glynne, because she knows you don’t worry if she’s with him.”

  “Yes, Charlie, but he’s away. And if he were back, she always comes back before the next night. She has none of her things at his hall—no clothes, no paint; how can she please him for another night if she hasn’t tidied herself? And you know what she’s like with her hair.”

  Despite her controlled chivalry, Charlie’s energetic purpose was diminishing. “Has she ever stayed more than one night before, Mrs H?”

  “Never, Charlie.”

  Charlie had known the answer already. She had worked with Dina for years, and she was always back the next day. She never would miss an arranged night of work with Lizzie and Charlie.

  “Right then. Lizzie, Mrs H, we need to do something. Dina is missing.”

  10

  Lizzie and Charlie found each other through the smoke.

  “Any luck?” Charlie’s voice was strained with fear and hope.

  “None. You?” Lizzie’s answer offered only despair.

  “Nothing. Johnny can’t remember anything more than what he said when we left. He says the man she went with was just her type—looked a bit too posh to be here but pleased with himself for finding Dina. Left in a carriage, not one Johnny knew.”

  “Right. Well, what shall we do next? Stay here and try to ask a few more people if they’ve seen her, or go out to see if we bump into someone who might be able to help?”

  “Let’s try a bit longer. I’m sure we can chat to a few of our customers who might have seen something, and we might make a bob or two. Let’s meet back here at the next break in the show.”

  Lizzie, Charlie and Mrs Henry had formed a methodical, if rudimentary, plan. Lizzie and Charlie would re-visit their haunts from the past few days and see if anybody knew anything. Mrs Henry had made it clear that, despite her concern for Dina, the girls still needed to earn their place, so any investigative work would have to be combined with their usual work.

  Mrs Henry’s role was to stay in the house should Dina return. Although Mrs Henry was more concerned for Dina than Lizzie had ever seen, additional fears did creep out in her panic. As Lizzie and Charlie had walked out of the house, she had been contemplating how to explain Dina’s loss to a peer of the realm upon his return at the start of the season.

  Lizzie and Charlie walked off in different directions, Charlie towards a large and loud group who seemed to be competing with the performers on the stage, and Lizzie towards the bar.

  The barman smiled at Lizzie as she approached. “Here again. Wine? No friends this evening?”

  Lizzie smiled despite herself. “No, just me for now. And yes, please, wine.”

  He poured the cheap, diluted liquid into a glass, reflected in the bar mirror. There were pictures of girls dancing in flamboyant skirts along the mirrors. Their movements and dresses were faded and worn by years of smoke and dirt. Lizzie caught sight of her dirty reflection. She looked like a dream of a person, half a person, smudged by dirt and time. Her dress looked old, like the dancing girls, a worn-out version of something that used to be better.

  “On the house.”

  Lizzie paid attention once more. “No. Thank you,
but no.”

  “Really, take it. You work hard enough; I’ve seen you. It’s not like it’s the best champagne in town anyway.”

  Lizzie made a sudden decision to accept the offer; he didn’t seem unkind—if it later became clear that the wine was in part by way of payment. “Thank you. Have you seen my friend in here tonight?”

  “The one who the women take a fancy to?”

  Lizzie smiled and glanced over at Charlie, who was, once more, being petted by her lady friend. “No, the other one. Tall, dark, French.”

  “Not since last night when she came in with you two. She alright?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  “She will be. You’re tougher than you look, you lot. And she doesn’t seem like the sort that anybody messes with.”

  He was right. Dina was stronger than all of them: self-possessed, headstrong and aloof. And yet, she had never stayed out this long, even when she went to see Sir Glynne.

  “Did you see who she left with yesterday?”

  “Sorry, darling, they all look the same to me. I tend not to take much notice unless they’re buying the most expensive thing we’ve got or giving me trouble.”

  Lizzie appreciated his approach. “Thanks anyway, and thanks for the wine.” She turned, half expecting a demand for payment for the drink, but the barman had moved on to another customer.

  Lizzie looked around the heady room: where was Dina hidden in its intoxication? She willed Dina to appear and walk between the tables, her superior movements casting judgement on those sat below her.

  “Hello.”

  Lizzie turned, beaming.

  “How are you?”

  Lizzie’s face fell in response to Ted’s smile. “Oh… alright. And you?”

  “No need to seem pleased to see me.”

  “Sorry, Ted. I just thought… I was thinking about somebody else, so when you said hello…”

  “Oh, so that’s how it is. Well, I’ll leave you to wait for your somebody else then.” Ted turned purposefully, hurt shifting his shoulders into a sulk.

  “Sorry, Ted, wait.” Lizzie held his arm gently, and he turned willingly towards her. “I was thinking of Dina—you know, the French girl at the house. She didn’t come back last night or today. We don’t know where she is.”

  “Oh. Is that unusual in your… your situation?”

  Lizzie let the wound glide over her. “No, it isn’t unusual in our situation, but it is in our house and it is for Dina. She’s never stayed out for two nights without coming back in between. She’s too vain, apart from anything else.”

  “Is there somewhere she could be? Does she have usual, um, companions?”

  “Only Sir Glynne, and he’s out of the city for August.”

  “What are you going to do? Report her missing?”

  Lizzie looked for a trace of sarcasm in Ted’s eyes but was met with kind concern. “Ted, there’s no point. Nobody cares. Not about us.”

  They looked at each other as if stripped of their experiences; above the smoke and sweat hung a life where Lizzie would be reported missing if Ted were to find her gone. The alternative reality disappeared, dispersed in revelry and the dim light. “We have to do something.”

  “We are trying, Ted. That’s why Charlie and me came here tonight, to try to find something out. Nobody knows anything.”

  “Well, come on, I’ll help you. Where next? Where else could she be?”

  Lizzie caught herself before she fell once more into her fictional romance. “We’re alright, Ted. Charlie and me will look for her.”

  She turned towards Charlie and walked towards the table at the centre of The Alhambra’s determined enjoyment of overindulgence. Ted held her arm, gently. She stopped and folded towards him, their symmetry unconscious.

  “Lizzie, let me help you. What harm can I do?”

  Lizzie put aside the risk of a broken heart. “Thank you. Alright, let’s get Charlie.”

  Charlie was hard to approach since she had become something of a cushion for her companion, who seemed to be drowning her in wine, money and her physical presence. Lizzie led Ted to the table and stood just outside the large, loud circle, making a point opposite Charlie and her companion. She swayed from foot to foot, trying to catch Charlie’s eye, but Charlie was immersed. Lizzie’s step became a hop as she tried to attract Charlie’s attention without interrupting her work.

  Ted turned to look at Lizzie. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to catch her eye.”

  “By performing a one-woman mute polka?”

  Lizzie stilled herself and looked at Ted the same way thousands of wives have glanced at their husbands after an unflattering quip. “What do you suggest, then?”

  Lizzie skated over The Alhambra’s floorboards as Ted led her to Charlie and tapped her companion on the shoulder. “Excuse me. Sorry, Charlie, could we have a quick word?”

  Charlie’s companion was about to be affronted but surprise caught her first.

  “Erm… yes,” said Charlie. “Sorry, I just need to …”

  “I didn’t realise you had other… plans this evening.”

  “Erm, well, I don’t, but, well.” Charlie’s usual gallantry was being exercised beyond its usual capacity. “Bea, Beatrix, this is Ted and Lizzie. They’re friends of mine.” Back in a modelled repartee, Charlie continued. “I don’t have any plans that don’t centre around you, my darling, but I do need to have a quick talk with these two to sort out some old business. Nothing to worry about or to spoil a party, just a few details to confirm. Excuse me a moment.”

  Charlie stood up and lifted Beatrix onto her feet in one movement. She steadied Beatrix by her back and stomach like a porcelain vase between her hands. Without pause, she placed a glass of champagne firmly in Beatrix’s hand and moved towards the door. “Back in a tick.”

  Lizzie and Ted strode to catch up with Charlie, who was now the one stepping from foot to foot, rather impatiently, by the door.

  “Ted, no offense intended, I’m sure you’re a fine chap, but your appearance is not going to help my business with my particular client here this evening.”

  “Sorry, Charlie,” said Lizzie. “I tried to get your attention without interrupting but—”

  Ted interrupted. “Look, the two of you, I am sorry, Lizzie’s right, but with Dina missing for perhaps a whole day by now, we don’t have time to be delicate. Charlie, have you found anything out?”

  “No, you? Either of you?” The ‘either’ came with a glance at Lizzie that both asked and answered why Ted was now part of the search.

  Lizzie ignored her friend’s silent comment. “Nothing. I’ve just told Ted what happened. He’s offered to help. He thinks we should move on to somewhere else she might be.”

  “Does he?”

  For a moment, a new, uncomfortable tone encircled the three of them. Competition, envy and cynicism closed in on their joint purpose.

  “Well, I happen to agree with him.” Charlie nodded towards Lizzie and, with that, dispersed the discomfort. “Right, I will need to take leave of my lady. Wait for me here.”

  She skipped back towards her companion, and after a brief conversation involving much flamboyant supplementing, Beatrix seemed to accept that the night would not end quite as she had clearly planned.

  Charlie strode back towards Lizzie and Ted like a ringmaster, leaving Beatrix more flushed than usual and staring poison towards Ted and Lizzie. “My lady will survive without me. Though Ted, Lizzie, don’t try to compete with me for her affections, since she has you down as a bad lot who spoil her fun and steal her toys. Her mother did not raise her to share. Right, where to?”

  11

  Piccadilly Circus was one of London’s many warrens. Women, many like Lizzie and Charlie, moved in and out of its centre in a seemingly choreographed motion, ensuring a balance of attractions and activity at all times. Revellers walked through a surfeit of choice, trying to attract the brightest prize at the best price. A few drunk young men whistled towards Liz
zie and laughed at Ted’s protective frown. Charlie caught Lizzie’s eye and Lizzie looked away.

  A man in a crimson bow-tie approached Charlie and bowed to her. “Your hand, my lady?”

  “Why, of course, sir.” Charlie took his hand with commensurate flair. “Lizzie, I’ll catch up with you. Marie’s friends usually work between here and Old Compton Street—see if you can find Georgie or Kath.”

  With that, Charlie and her bow-tied companion skipped down a convenient alley.

  Ted had insisted they list all the places Dina had been over the past few days as a basis for their search. Lizzie and Charlie had agreed it was too late to re-visit the Cremorne Pleasure Gardens—it seemed unlikely that Dina would return there alone, and in truth neither Lizzie nor Charlie could face the walk through the close night to begin their night’s work all over again. There were plenty of opportunities for customers and information about Dina on the way back to Mrs Henry’s, though Charlie was unsure how profitable Lizzie would be with Ted a part of their outing.

  She had been the one to suggest they make their way to Piccadilly Circus: “We’re bound to know a few people there. Last I heard, a few of Marie’s friends were working there over the summer.”

  The mention of Marie admitted Charlie’s worst fears for Dina. Lizzie had no comfort to offer and had agreed to the plan. Charlie, Ted and Lizzie had walked there, three abreast through the streets, dragged by heat but purposeful and weaving knowingly through the activity around them.

  Without Charlie, Lizzie and Ted walked on, turning towards Soho as Charlie had advised. Lizzie felt like two people: one woman walking the streets looking for trade and worrying about a missing prostitute, the other on a summer night’s stroll with her gentleman friend. Charlie’s unspoken comments were right—how was she going to make any money with Ted by her side? What did he have in mind for her tonight? And where was Dina?

  Lizzie breathed deeply and slowly. She inhaled the liquor and heat, and in return exhaled her own confusion into the clogged air. Enough. Her own faux romance could wait. Whatever Ted had in mind, she had enough money for Mrs Henry for this evening. Dina was missing and only Lizzie and Charlie—and Ted—cared at all.