by Mary Wood
His driver dropped him at the end of the street where the whorehouses stood. Not that he wanted it that way, but these houses were so close together there was no room for a carriage to pull along it. He stood a moment and looked towards the building from which Lilly plied her trade. A tenement block with few windows still intact, and tiles missing off the roof, it stood in a filthy street, the stench of which always necessitated him covering his mouth and nose with his handkerchief. Sewage ran down a gully on the pavement edge into a cesspit at the end of the road, and rotting vegetation and rubbish of all kinds lay in putrid heaps. As he came up to the door, the familiar cry of ‘Watch out!’ had him ducking into the alley as piss thrown from an upstairs window splashed onto the pavement where he’d been standing.
Lilly must have seen him approaching, as her voice bellowed out a tirade of abuse at whoever had been responsible. It seemed she was convinced they had done it on purpose. On his second attempt to knock on the door, it opened and she welcomed him in. ‘Hello, love. I thought you wouldn’t be coming for a while, as you said you had a lot to see to. Come on in. I’ve finished with me last one and I have a pot boiling, so I can have the wash-down you like me to have.’
The tinge of red on each cheek that he usually saw when he had finally done with her, and the glow she had about her that he’d seen on many occasions when she’d reached the height of satisfaction, made him feel rejected, as if he had somehow thought he’d been the only one who could take her there. Stupid thought! Lilly was a sexual animal. She knew what she wanted, and how to get it . . .
‘What’s up, love? You’re not going to play up, are you? You know I have other customers. Look, go away and think about it. I’ll have me wash, and if you want it – well, you can come back for it. Mind, don’t be leaving it long; it’s busy at this time of year. They’re all trying to get a last good shag before they have to go and be good little boys over the Christmas season.’ Lilly burst out laughing at this, showing her yellowing teeth. The sight turned his stomach. As she looked at him, her laughter ceased and a frown creased her face. She leaned forward, her breasts straining against the tight bodice of her frock. Her head nodded, causing her bedraggled ringlets to drape over the curve of her cleavage. She pushed them back, then ran her hand over where they had just been.
His mouth dried. He forgot her discoloured teeth and the obvious signs of latent pleasure on her face, saying, ‘I think I’ll come in and wait.’
Watching the water running off her creamy body with its beautiful curves and taut muscles made him impatient to lie with her, but he savoured the moment. Her long red hair fell forward as she bent to cleanse between her legs. When she lifted her head, her large liquid-blue eyes in her pink, well-scrubbed, pretty face invited him over. ‘You can dry me, if you like. I’m all squeaky clean, so you can make me dirty again . . .’ She laughed, a tinkling, provocative sound. ‘But first, Mister’ – she always called him that during sex, and he loved it – ‘you had better take off your clothes. Your pants are that bulged and tight they look like they’ll split open any minute.’
Discarding his clothes, he didn’t stop to dry her. He lifted her damp body over to the bed and entered her, thrusting as deep as he could. All guilt melted away with the pleasure of feeling her long legs wrap around him, pulling him to her, writhing against him, yet accepting him and giving him sensations that sizzled through him. It was over in no time. He held himself still and taut. His breath laboured, gasps releasing and inhaling with each intense pulse pumping his very being into her.
After a moment he slumped down beside her. He didn’t speak. The effort of trying to hold all the fractured parts of his deep inner being together left him shaken to the core.
‘Is that it? I weren’t for getting there. What’s happened to you? You’re usually in for the long haul, once you start.’ She sat up, lit a cigarette and climbed off the bed.
Inhaling the remnants of the wisp of fresh smoke as it curled towards him, he smiled at her. ‘I don’t have an explanation. Except maybe . . .’ Yes, he knew now what had prompted him to take all she had, in that abandoned way. ‘Well, it was my last supper, so to speak.’
‘Oh, we’re onto that one again, are we? What is it? Fallen in love again with little wifey? Promised her you won’t come and fuck your whore again? Well, I s’pose, if you try often enough, one day it will happen.’
‘It’s nothing like that, Lilly. I haven’t promised anyone, and I never did fall out of love with her. I just know this is the end.’
‘Ha, just like that? You use me and leave me . . . well, it happens. There are other cocks out there, so don’t think for a minute as I’ll miss yours.’
Although he couldn’t see her face, he could hear pain in her voice. And he knew some of it to touch him, too. They had known one another for a long time now. She had been a part – a very big part – of his life, and she’d helped him when he’d needed her most. He knew she realized, as he did, that this really was the end. But suddenly he had plans for her, and he told her of them, making them up as he went along, but meaning every word.
‘Lilly, you have served me well; and yes, you have been a good friend when I most needed one. It is true I won’t come to see you again, but I won’t forget you. I am going to make a provision for you.’
‘A what? Money, you mean? An allowance? Sommat as will get me out of this filthy hole?’
‘Yes.’ She had come right to the point, as always. He’d miss that: knowing exactly where he was with her. And he’d miss other things too: her body, her hair – her beautiful red hair – and he knew he’d miss the earthiness of her, the acts she’d perform on him and with him. But he would feel better knowing that she was well taken care of, without having to resort to this endless fucking with men. ‘I haven’t all the details worked out, but I am going to buy you a place of your own and settle an amount of money on you.’
‘Tell me this ain’t you taking me on. Tell me you mean it.’ A huge sob stopped her saying anything more.
He stood up, pulled on his trousers, wrapped a scruffy blanket off the bed around her, then held her to him. ‘I mean it. I’ll leave you a good sum today, but keep it quiet. I don’t want any of my cronies knowing of this. If ever they hint to me they do, I will invoke a clause that I mean to put on the gift. That clause will see you penniless and homeless in an instant.’
He had no need to say that to her. She had never betrayed his trust, but he felt he had to do so. He couldn’t risk Agatha finding out. If she did, then it wouldn’t be long before Dvina did, too.
‘So, tell me where you would like me to buy a property for you.’
‘I’d like to move reet away from here, to somewhere no one knows owt about me. Maybe the seaside? Yes, I could run a little cafe. All the girls say as me cakes are best ever, and even if I’ve only a smattering of tea leaves, I can make a decent pot. I could call it Lilly’s Tea Room. I could make a go of it, I know I could.’
‘Very well, I’ll get my agent to find somewhere for you and to furnish it. We’ll find one you can live above. How would that be?’
‘It’d be grand – grand as owt.’ She snuggled back into him. ‘And I’ll never give you any trouble, or owt like that. You’ll never hear from me again, I promise.’
As she looked up at him, his resolve weakened for a moment, but just as quickly it strengthened again. He forced himself to move away from her and finish dressing, telling her as he did so, ‘Lilly, I won’t have direct contact with you again, but I promise you I will see to everything, and someone will contact you in due course about all the arrangements and the money. In the meantime, here is fifty pounds. I’d love to say use it so that you don’t have to take any more customers, but you should carry on as normal as much as possible, so no one suspects anything. I’m sorry to ask that of you, but maybe with this it will make it possible to not have so many.’
‘Oh, Andrew, it couldn’t have come at a better time! Like I said, the customers go to ground for a couple of m
onths now. They can’t find excuses to get away from their wives when business closes. Look, Andrew . . . Well, couldn’t I go now? I mean, leave it a couple of days, so it don’t look like I went just after your visit, and then make me way to Scarborough. I went there once on the train with me mate. I could find lodgings and wait there, or I could look for places and let you know somehow when I find one.’
‘Well, it’s an idea. Look, I’ll need to put some things into place. Yes, it would be good to know you don’t have to carry on here.’ Not least because she will be out of temptation’s way for me. ‘I’ll visit a solicitor. Not the one I use for my legitimate business, but I’ve heard of a no-questions-asked gentleman whom my friends use at times of gambling debts and . . . well, anything really that they don’t want family to find out. Once I have tracked him down and instructed him, he will call. I’ll tell him to act like he’s a customer. I don’t think it will be a problem with him to do so, as I understand he does frequent these places. Anyway, he will give you his address, where you can contact me. Look, I’ll leave you another twenty pounds, just to make sure.’
‘Thanks, Andrew. Thanks for everything. I’ll not forget you, and I’ll turn out well – make you proud. And . . . well, you’ll know where I am, if you ever need me.’
He couldn’t trust himself to kiss her goodbye – not that he ever really kissed her. Just the odd peck. Mostly he indulged in heavy kissing of her neck and all of her body, anywhere except her lips.
A look of shock came into her face as he put out his hand. He laughed and said, ‘We have a gentleman’s agreement, and we need to seal it with a handshake.’
Lilly giggled at this and took his hand with surprising firmness. ‘It’s a done deal, love. I’ll never be able to thank you for giving me this chance, but I’ll say it anyway. Thanks . . .’
Watching the scenery bob up and down in time with the horse’s canter, changing from drab buildings to suburban mansions and then to the crisp white of the frost-covered trees that led into the country, Andrew mulled over what had happened. Where had it all come from? But he enjoyed the feeling it gave him. Good fortune had smiled on him and he hadn’t had to do anything for it, so sharing some of it was the least he could do. He liked, too, the easing of his conscience that came with the actions he’d taken. He just hoped it worked out all right and that no one ever found out.
21
Bridie and Issy
Breckton, March 1881
Love came knocking for Issy
The bitter cold seeped into Bridie. As she pulled her cloak around her, she was for thinking the harsh March winds would cut her in two. Looking back at the cottage from where she stood at the half-open gate, she allowed her happiness to warm her and put her thoughts towards trying to justify her intended mission. The excuse of her past was wearing thin. It was true that the gin could help her forget everything that had happened with her da, and the life she’d been dragged into, but why was it that the life she had now wasn’t enough to make her leave it alone? She knew it hurt Will to smell the drink on her. And, with Janet, wasn’t it that any bridges they had built could crumble at the slightest provocation? Her dipping into the pot containing their savings – Janet’s Holy Grail – would cause eruptions to fuel the fires of hell, she was sure of that. But she couldn’t stop herself.
Maybe when they had a permanent home she could think more positively about breaking her drinking habit. She looked up towards the road running across the top of the lane. She could see the footings and partly built cottages, where once there had been fields. To be sure, it would be lovely to live there. For wouldn’t I be just minutes from here, but still able to walk down this lovely leafy lane and across the fields? Memories of her home deep in the countryside in Ireland shot a pain through her. Oh, away with you, Bridie! Just be remembering the happy times, as the other will drag you down, so it will.
‘Eeh, it’s alreet for some, hanging around their garden gate looking for a bit of gossip, whilst others try to fit twenty-five hours into a day.’
This from Issy, as she turned into the lane and came towards her, brought Bridie back to the present. She loved Issy. It was good to have found someone so like Beth. She still had the heart-sore feeling of missing Beth, but Issy’s kind ways soothed that. She called back, ‘To be sure, I’ve been up since six and have all me chores done, so I have.’
‘Ha, I’m only taking you on.’ Issy looked concerned as she came up to her. ‘By, you look peaky. Are you feeling alreet?’
‘Aye, ’tis that I have been sick these last couple of mornings.’
‘Eeh, Bridie, you know what that means . . .’
‘I know, but I’ve seen me bleeding, so I’m for thinking it may be something else.’
‘I don’t know. It’s not unknown. Me ma told me of a woman who saw it all the way through and just thought as she were putting weight on, until she was took with the pains. Should I ask her to come and have a look at yer?’
‘No, don’t be for worrying her. I’ll be waiting to see how it all goes. I’ll be fine, so I will. Would you be after coming in for a cup of tea?’
‘No, ta. I’m on me way to meet Ma. She finishes about now, but I have to go back to Tarrington House later. Mrs Eastland is having some friends to dinner, so if I don’t come and walk home with Ma, I’ll not see her at all today.’
‘I’m for thinking it’s more like Tom you’re hoping to catch a glimpse of. Isn’t it as you have to walk through the stable yard to get to the servants’ entrance?’
Though Issy laughed, Bridie saw her face take on a tinge of colour, so she knew she’d touched on the truth: poor Issy had fallen in deep for the new groom, who had only come to lodge with them a couple of weeks ago. But he seemed like the shy type, and even though Issy had said she thought he liked her, he hadn’t given her any definite signs.
‘Is it that obvious? By, I must have got it bad. But yer know, I find it hard to get through the day without seeing him, and I never thought I’d feel like this again after I lost Denny.’
‘I’m for thinking he feels the same. Didn’t you say you catch him looking at you, whenever you turn around? And the banter you have – that’s for giving off a good feeling, so it is. You should give him some encouragement. Look at him from under your eyelids, hold his gaze, and put yourself in positions where he has to be pushing past you.’
‘Eeh, Bridie, he’d think me a forward lass, and that might put him off. No, I’ll just be patient. After all, I’ve only known him a short time. It might just be that I want any man, to fill the loneliness in me.’
‘Aye, there’s that. We women have our needs, though men are not always for knowing it. But then ’tis little choice you have around here, Issy, and there’s a few young widows and spinsters who’d like to get their hands on someone like Tom. You take care and don’t be after letting him slip through your fingers for want of a few womanly wiles to catch him.’
‘I won’t. Anyroad, that’s enough about me. What about you? Have you heard how your new home is coming along? I see as they’re not working on the site again today – afraid of freezing their manhoods off, no doubt!’ This set them off giggling. ‘Eeh, what a thought! But still, I suppose you’re not in a hurry, as it ain’t going to be easy having to uproot again. Even if it is only to the top of the road. You’ve made a lovely job of this place, thou knows.’
‘Well, if you get in with Tom, then to be sure it will be yours, so that will make it worth it.’
‘If only. Anyroad, I notice you go up to the Irish quarter regular. Have you made some friends up there?’
Bridie knew Issy was only trying to change the subject, but taking their chat in this direction made her own face blush. For she wouldn’t want Issy to be knowing of the real reason she had taken to going to the Irish. ‘Aye, ’tis that I have some friends up there, and ’tis nice to have the craic with them.’ A thought came to her then: maybe Issy would be able to help her with something she’d troubled over – no, more than that: feared
over. Perhaps Issy could dispel the impossible thoughts she’d had about the rumours she’d heard of a traveller in the area being Seamus. ‘Issy, have you been for hearing tales of a travelling man from Ireland? He’d be about your age, so he would. Very dark, curly hair, and eyes as black as the night?’
Issy’s reaction shocked Bridie: her face paled, her eyes widened and a tremble went through her body as she nodded her head. ‘Aye, there is a man of that description. He came here regular a few years ago, then he disappeared, but he’s started to visit again. Is it from the Irish you’ve heard of him? Only be careful, Bridie, he . . . well, he’s dangerous.’
Bridie couldn’t say anything for a moment. She felt certain now it was Seamus, for hadn’t he told her he’d travelled this way when he’d first had to leave Ireland? Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, why? Why, when I am so happy? For as sure as God was in Heaven, Seamus could spoil that happiness, for couldn’t he give me feelings I’d not be able to deal with or want?
It had surprised her as much as it would have done if she’d heard there were little people living on the outskirts of Breckton, to hear of the Irish living there. She had found out it was the mining company who had shipped them in, after the disaster that had taken the lives of Issy’s father and fiancé. Cheap labour, the Irish were after telling her they were. The places they lived in were no more than hovels: one building on the edge of the town, with just a room for each family and shared kitchens and lav. But, as with all her fellow countrymen, they had the spirit, the love and the humour in them to keep them going, so they did.