The Whitechapel Girl Read online

  Sorely tempted, Jimmy Tanner restrained himself from making further smutty remarks, knowing the Bury family’s redheaded temper to be more than just a rumour: even with Billy, usually the most placid of the Burys, you could only go so far.

  ‘Go on, Ett!’ called Maisie in encouragement, ‘you let him impose. You assist him, girl.’

  Acting as though the audience were behaving with impeccable manners, the Professor continued. He indicated that Ettie should sit on a rough wooden stool at the front of the stage but first, before he allowed her to do so, he brushed the seat clean with his handkerchief. Then, to the approximate sound of a drum roll from the percussionist in the five-piece ensemble, Protsky took a pack of cards and a slate from inside his cape, carefully, rather ostentatiously, placed these to one side, and then took from his pocket a square of blood-red satin.

  ‘May I?’ he asked, indicating that he wished to cover Ettie’s eyes.

  She nodded.

  ‘Is that comfortable?’ he asked, draping the veil so that her head and shoulders were completely covered.

  She nodded again, careful not to disturb the satin.

  ‘You can see nothing?’

  This time Ettie gently shook her head.

  The Professor then made a show of adjusting the material once more, ensuring that the audience could see that the cloth was obscuring all light from Ettie’s eyes. Then he held up a hand to the musician, indicating that he should lower the volume of the drumming. Next he addressed the now almost silent audience.

  ‘I will now summon the spirits, ladies and gentlemen. I will ask that they enter the mind of this young girl sitting here before you.

  I will ask that they show her what is in my mind.’ Again, difficult as he found it, Jimmy Tanner restrained himself from passing the obvious ribald comment.

  The Professor took a deep breath, placed an index finger on each of his temples, and made a low, moaning hum. Then, quite suddenly, he snatched up the pack of cards from where he’d left them on the stage, and leapt out into the audience.

  ‘Quick,’ he commanded Billy, ‘the moment is opportune. Pick one of these cards and hold it up for all to see.’

  As he held out the pack of cards, the man’s fingers brushed the reluctant Billy’s hand. Without even trying to hide his distaste, Billy drew a card from the pack, staring contemptuously into the Professor’s face as he did so.

  The Professor held a long finger up to his lips. ‘Say nothing, young man,’ he commanded, ‘merely hold up the card for all of us to see.’

  Billy grudgingly held up the card: the two of hearts.

  ‘Higher! Higher! Let all who are here see that the spirits will guide us to the truth.’

  Billy raised his arm with a desultory, almost feeble flick.

  ‘Please, keep it high in the air. The spirits are coming, coming to me. I feel them. Hear them. They are amongst us.’

  Professor Protsky leapt back on the stage, scooping up the slate as he did so. He placed it on Ettie’s lap, making her jump. Then took her hand and placed in it a slender writing implement.

  ‘The young lady will now, with the assistance of the spirits, be able to enter my mind, and then she will write down the name of that very same card which you can all see held aloft by the young man in the front row.’

  ‘Say she can’t write?’ hollered a wag from the back of the room.

  ‘I can write, ta very much.’ Her voice muffled by the satin veil, Ettie spoke for the first time.

  ‘It matters not, sir,’ the Professor assured the doubter. ‘All that matters is my power of thought-transference, and the willingness of the spirits to assist.’

  ‘Spirits always assist me and all,’ chipped in Jimmy Tanner, unable to control himself any longer. ‘Especially gin.’

  ‘Please,’ the Professor continued, quite undeterred by the hecklers. ‘Young lady, write. Write now. Write what you see in my mind.’

  ‘But I don’t see noth…’

  ‘Write.’ He touched his fingertips to the top of her veiled head, then passed his hands rapidly in front of her covered face.

  Ettie hurriedly scribbled something, anything, on the slate.

  The Professor seized the board from her and leapt back theatrically to Billy. ‘Have the spirits guided us faithfully, young sir?’ With a flourish, the Professor held the slate aloft, next to Billy’s aching arm.

  ‘Behold! A triumph for the spirits! The two of hearts.’

  Ettie pulled the veil down to her chin and stared. ‘Well, bugger me,’ she said. Taking the Professor’s offered hand, she stumbled down from the stage and back to her seat to the accompaniment of wild cheers and clapping.

  When, five minutes later, Protsky finished his act with a mysteriously floating apparition – which could well have been a visitation from the spirit world – he was rewarded with another tumultuous round of applause.

  ‘Thank you, ladies and gentleman,’ said the Professor, accepting his applause as if by right. ‘And a special thank you to my lovely assistant there in the front row.’

  ‘They’re clapping for yer again, Ett,’ shouted Maisie over the applause. ‘Just listen how they’re clapping for yer. Good old Ettie.’ She was loving every minute of her friend’s success.

  ‘Ettie!’ the Professor announced, pointing to her again and leading yet more applause.

  ‘Now see what you and yer big mouth have done,’ Billy snapped at his sister. ‘The slimy bugger knows her name now.’

  ‘He’d have known it anyway,’ said Ettie quietly. ‘Cos of the spirits. They’d have told him.’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon,’ said Billy angrily.

  Everyone looked round at the loud tooting from the back of the room, as Lou the spangled lady announced her return and her intention to usher them out ready to make room for the next house.

  Billy immediately scrambled into the row behind and pushed his way into the aisle.

  His sister wasn’t quite so athletic. ‘Come on, Ett, move yerself, girl,’ she said, standing up ready to leave but unable to get past her friend. ‘Just cos yer a star, I ain’t gonna bleed’n carry yer out. And I definitely ain’t climbing over no benches.’

  Ettie didn’t move. ‘May, I don’t wanna go,’ she said.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘I wanna see the show again.’

  ‘For gawd’s sake, Ettie, it’s late enough as it is. And yer know I ain’t even meant to be here.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And how do yer think we can afford another penny? Yer made of money all of a sudden, are yer?’

  ‘We can hide behind that canvas screen and bunk in. No one’ll see us.’

  Maisie shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Ett. I know yer me best friend and everything, but I can’t. Anyway, Bill’s waiting and I’ve got to make sure that that little sod of a Tommy gets out of his fairy frock and back home before Mum finds out what’s been going on.’

  ‘It’s all right, May,’ said Ettie softly. ‘I understand. You go on, before yer get trampled to death by the next lot coming in.’

  May shook her head, then bent forward and gave her friend a peck on the cheek. ‘See yer later then, yer dozy cow.’

  ‘Yeah, see yer, May.’

  Ettie let her friend get past her, and watched her join the chattering, excited throng who were filing out of the gaff.

  ‘I’m staying as well, Ett. I’ll keep yer company.’

  Ettie turned round to see Billy still standing in the gangway between the benches. He was looking at her with great concentration. She stared back at him for a long moment before she spoke.

  ‘That’s up to you, Bill,’ she said gently, ‘but I’ve changed me mind. I’ve decided to go home.’

  ‘But yer just said yer was staying for the next show,’ said Billy, exasperated. ‘Yer don’t want me here with yer, do yer? That’s what all this is about.’

  ‘It’s not that. But do me a favour and leave me alone, Bill, will yer?’ She looked down at her hands. ‘Anyway, I�
��m going home to get some money,’ she said stiffly. ‘Then I’m coming back here to see one of the later shows. That’s all.’

  ‘Money? From your house, yer reckon? Yer’ve taken leave of yer senses. There’s never nothing in your house, yer know that. What’s got into yer, Ett?’

  ‘Look, I know what I’m doing. I’ve decided I don’t wanna bunk in here like some daft kid. All right?’ She gnawed nervously at her thumbnail. ‘I wanna come and pay. Decent-like.’

  ‘Yer not making no sense, Ett.’ Billy ran his fingers distractedly through his mop of pale red hair.

  ‘Look, I know how I’ll get a few bob, don’t yer worry yerself. I’ll rob that dirty bastard of a lodger while he’s asleep and snoring his stinking head off.’

  ‘Ettie…’ Billy shook his head, thought for a bit, then said, ‘Look, I’ll come home with yer. Just in case. I’ve heard what this latest so-called lodger of yer mum’s is like. May’s told me all about him.’

  Ettie shot a surprised look at him. So, for all Maisie’s bluster, she’d been concerned all along about what a hard time Ettie had been having. She was a good friend when all was said and done.

  ‘I’ll be all right by myself, ta, Bill,’ she said when she’d recovered from the surprise. ‘I can deal with that no-good pig once he’s having a kip.’

  ‘Yer don’t have to, yer know.’

  ‘I know, Bill, but I want to. Yer know me, I find it hard to be beholding to anyone.’

  The difficult silence that followed was shattered by an obviously irritated voice: ‘Are you coming, staying, or what, Billy Bury?’ It was May, forcing her way back down the aisle towards them, with her little rouged and powdered brother Tommy in tow.

  ‘She’s going home now. To get some money,’ Billy said, rolling his eyes at his sister. ‘Don’t want to bunk in like no kid, she reckons.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ May let out a long, slow sigh. ‘Yer a dopey mare.’ She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her youngest brother’s arm. ‘We’d all better be going in any case, hadn’t we?’ she said, all calm efficiency. ‘It’s bloody hot and sweaty in here. And, as for you, Tommy Bury, I’m gonna dip yer head in the horses’ trough before Mum sets her eyes on yer. Gawd alone knows what she’d say if she saw yer with all that muck on yer chops. Yer look like a bride looking for customers.’

  May trailed the wriggling Tommy behind her like he was a sack full of fighting potatoes, the laughing crowd parting good-humouredly to let them pass.

  Ettie made as if to follow. This time, it was Billy who was stopping her from leaving. He took her arm in his strong, working man’s grip.

  ‘Ett, yer do know what yer doing, girl, don’t yer? Because, if you ask me, I don’t think yer do. Yer don’t know nothing about him, do yer?’

  ‘About who?’ she said, her chin held high.

  ‘Yer know full well who I mean.’

  ‘I know as much about him as I need to, or want to for that matter, Bill.’ She rubbed her hands over her face; suddenly she felt very tired. ‘It seems longer, but he’s been living in our room with us for a fortnight. That’s enough for me to know all about him, believe me.’

  ‘No, not him,’ said Billy tensely. ‘I don’t mean no lodger. I mean this Protsky geezer.’ Billy gripped her arm tighter. ‘His hands, Ett. I dunno. I didn’t like the feel of them. They was all sort of cold and like wax. Horrible they was.’

  ‘What? They ain’t all hard and rough like ours, yer mean?’

  ‘Ett, please. Yer don’t know what yer messing with.’ Trying his last card, Billy added, ‘And I think he’s foreign or something.’

  ‘Come on you two. Another penny each or yer out.’ Lou the Spangled Lady had appeared again and was jerking her thumb towards the exit in an unmistakable gesture of dismissal. ‘Now move yerselves or cough up yer money. I’ve got paying customers waiting to come in.’

  Billy and Ettie didn’t move.

  ‘And anyway,’ Ettie said, trying to release herself from Billy. ‘Whatever I do, what have I got to lose eh? Tell me that.’

  ‘Me,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Billy,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I’m only coming back to see the show.’

  ‘I love you, Ett, I’ve always loved yer. And I know you ain’t happy at home.’

  Ettie went to speak, but he wouldn’t let her; he was afraid what she might say.

  ‘I could make things all right for yer, honest I could.’ The words that had been going around in his head suddenly tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. ‘Is it our Alfie?’ he asked. ‘Do yer prefer him to me?’

  ‘Wherever did yer get that idea from?’ she said, shaking her head and forcing herself to smile. ‘Bill, Alfie’s me mate, that’s all.’ She looked away from him. ‘And, believe me, Bill, if I had to pick one of yer…’

  ‘Perhaps yer could love me then?’ he interrupted.

  Ettie didn’t get the chance to either confirm or dash his hopes.

  ‘Do I have to tell you two again?’ Lou threatened, more loudly this time.

  Ettie pulled herself free and walked towards the exit. Billy dodged round in front of her and silently lifted the painted canvas, intending to let Ettie duck out into the corridor. But the authority of the voice coming from the stage behind them stopped them both dead in their tracks.

  ‘Ettie. You’re still here, I see.’

  It was Protsky.

  She spun round to face him. ‘Yeah. I wanted to see the show again.’ She looked down shyly, paused and then raised her eyes to meet his. ‘If that’s all right with you, of course.’

  * * *

  ‘Wake up yer lazy, gin-soaked bitch.’

  The woman moaned, a low, animal-like sound, as she struggled to bring herself to consciousness. She shifted, lifting her scraggy, aching arm from under the stiff grey blanket. The movement sent an empty bottle crashing from the bed on to the bare, grimy floorboards. The sound reverberated through her pounding skull.

  ‘What d’yer say?’ she mumbled hoarsely.

  ‘I said, where is she? Where’s Ettie? Answer me.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, but couldn’t focus in the dim, alcohol-blurred haze. ‘She must’ve gone out, I suppose. I don’t know. I didn’t feel well, I fell asleep.’

  ‘Asleep? Yer filthy trollop. Yer was out like a light, like yer always are.’ He kicked the broken shards of the bottle with his heavy hob-nailed boot, sending the fragments spinning and glinting in the pale light which filtered in through the cracked and filthy window from the court’s single gas-lamp.

  The woman recoiled nervously, fearing from experience what would come next.

  She had every right to be afraid. He tore the thin covers from off her body and looked down at her with disgust.

  ‘Look at yer. Yer make me sick. But yer’ll have to do.’

  Her throat, already dry from the gin, was now an inferno; she swallowed painfully, watching helplessly as he undid his great buckled belt. All the while, he stared at her with his cold, unblinking eyes.

  ‘She’ll be home soon. I’m sure of it,’ she croaked.

  ‘Too late. I want it now. I’ll see to her later.’

  The weight of his big, slaughterman’s body was not enough to smother her cries as he pinned her down against the musty dampness of the mattress, and forced himself into her.

  ‘Shut up in there, can’t yer?’ The angry voice carried clearly through the flimsy wooden partition that separated the room from the family of seven next door. ‘There’s people in here trying to get a bit of kip.’

  ‘And in here!’ The voice from the other side agreed. ‘Give her a drop of Satin and keep her quiet, for gawd’s sake.’

  The laughter from the two neighbouring rooms drowned the woman’s pitiful sobs.

  Chapter 1

  ‘Thank Gawd above that that’s over for another night. Me bleed’n pins are killing me.’ Lou the Spangled Lady bent forward and tenderly r
ubbed her aching legs as she ushered out the last of the stragglers from the final show of the night.

  Only Ettie, Maisie, and Maisie’s new-found companion – a big, Scandinavian-looking merchant seaman who didn’t appear to speak very much English – remained on the bench seats.

  ‘Good night you lot,’ said Lou to the three of them. ‘I’m off to me bed. His Majesty back there said it was all right for me to leave yer here till he comes out. Mind yer, he never said nothing about no sailors,’ she added warily.

  ‘That’s all right, Lou, thank you.’

  Ettie looked round. Jacob had appeared on the empty stage.

  ‘I’m glad you decided to wait for me, Miss Wilkins,’ he said, looking down at her. Still dressed in his black outfit, he looked magnificent. ‘But the young man who was with you – he decided to leave?’

  ‘He had to get his little brother back home,’ Ettie answered him, her voice low. ‘So Maisie here waited with me.’

  Jacob nodded. Then he stretched slowly, luxuriously, like a cat. Stepping down into the impromptu front stalls, ignoring Maisie and the sailor, who, in any case, seemed more interested in each other, he reached out his hand to Ettie.

  ‘No, wait,’ said Ettie, shaking her head. ‘I want to say something. Something I’ve been thinking about. That’s been worrying me.’

  ‘About my asking you to wait for me?’

  She shook her head again. ‘No.’ She paused then, avoiding the powerful gaze of his deep, brown eyes, she said softly, ‘It ain’t very nice, yer know.’

  ‘Oh? What isn’t?’

  ‘Them poor sods yer show in the exhibition out there. The Mountain Maid and that. I’d have thought more from a choice geezer like yer self.’

  ‘This is very unexpected,’ said Protsky, unable to hide his surprise at her concern. ‘I thought you had enjoyed the show.’

  ‘Well, like I said, I’ve been thinking. It’s the way yer talk and that. Yer should know better.’

  ‘Explain. I’m not sure that I follow your meaning, I’m afraid.’

  ‘And I ain’t sure that I follow yours neither.’ She hesitated, finding her words. ‘I ain’t never really had no one talk to me with a voice like yours, see.’ She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.