THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 2...Part 8.

A continuation of my book.

Mary sipped at the drink and waited till the night had given into an early morning light before returning to the upstairs bedroom. Mr. Jones still lay, his loose lips puttering in and out as he snored. Undressing to her petticoat, Mary pulled the blanket from his body exposing it to the cold and then began to shake him roughly.
“Wake up, Mr. Jones!” she called loudly.
“Huh?”
Mr. Regus Jones woke with a shuddering of eyelids and a loud belch before sitting up and staring vaguely round the room.
“Humph!” he went, giving Mary a quick curious stare as if he had never seen her before then scrambled clumsily from the bed in search of his clothes.
“I’ll leave you to dress, Mr. Jones.” said Mary, picking up her own dress and making her way to the door.
She stopped with her hand on the door-handle.
“You were very good.” she said and left.
“Humph?” said Mr. Jones, looking at the closed door.
He began to search for his purse and money belt.
“He’ll be down soon.” Mary told Danny. “Then he’ll settle the bill with you.”
Danny nodded and laughed lightly as he laid out a shilling on the bar.
“Here are your earnings. I knew you could do it, Mary.” he said. “You are my princess.”
Mary left the pub and made her happy way home, the coins tucked carefully in her purse.

 

Eli Dolsman was a happy man. With Mary paying the required rent, he was far more acceptable to her demands for a key to the front door which allowed her convenient entrance. He noted the changes within her dress and manner, seeming now far more confident and subtle in her make-up which, while not overly applied as the Night-Girls wore but with a style which did not blemish the look or poise. There were at times of meeting when he felt she laughed at him in a secret way which caused him to find discomfort inside. But he took her money and each was happy within the acquaintance.

 

Over the next few weeks Mary learned the tricks of the trade with Goldie and her friend, the always laughing Della. The two women took Mary with them on visits to other public houses in the area, with Danny happy to pay for their drinks as they lured customers away from the taverns and bringing them to the doors of the Seven Bells.
Each night Mary was supplied with a queue of men who wanted a bit more than those common women who might always give them a nasty disease. She learned to accept the fact that some of the men could take a remarkable amount of drink and still expect her favours in the bedroom.
The more handsome and cleaner the men, the more Mary was happy to give out favours and delight them in the bed. However, she would exhaust them as she did the others with drink and then steal a shilling here and there, the men not seeming to miss the money or care and often coming back for more. Danny would watch her as she came and went, his smile ever-present and though he was always courteous to her and called her his princess he never made any advances to her even though Mary knew he would pay a visit to the younger girls upstairs at times. In a way this suited Mary very well and allowed her to retain a sense of mystery, to smile with a cold heart.

 

Beth was doing more than her share of the housework by fetching in water and wood for the fire and cleaning. Sam did not offer to help, seeming to grow more morose each day and looking at his mother as she slept, knowing how she earned her money. He did not speak of the times he crept out of the house as Beth slept, stealing up to peer through the window of the Seven Bells and watching as his mother would help a gentleman up the stairs to the bedroom. Inside of him was the spite of revenge on those who had lured his mother into that kind of life. He missed his father and hated the way Mary seemed not to care any more, now always laughing and smoking those tar-filled cigarettes which caused her to cough and polluted the room.

 

Mr. Pendleton was a prosperous livestock farmer who daily visited the squalid quarters of the East-End and Aldgate in particular, where the Night-Girls peddled their wares. He was not happy with his life and the downturn of his mouth proved that while watery brown eyes only came to life when he either spotted a proud bull in a field or a pretty woman in the street. He knew about money and gathered it shrewdly, even marrying for it and taking a wife, a widow of some fifty years and who was no bargain when each night Mr. Pendleton had to give in to the aged woman’s expectations. With this in mind Mr. Pendleton would wait till she was asleep and then express his way down to the working quarters of the East-End and it was on one of these nightly visits that he saw Mary as she was hurrying her way to work and in his natural way accosted her with an offer of money for her services. Mary knew that some of the girls would sell their favours beyond the contract given to them by Danny and Danny cared little as long as the girls brought the men back to the tavern afterwards.

“How much do you charge?” asked Mr. Pendleton as he doffed his top hat, his brown eyes lighting up at her beauty.
Mary smiled for him as she drew him into one of the many small alleyways which hived off the main road.
“I’m not a common woman.” she said carefully, judging his dress and sense of greed. “And so I expect to be paid quite handsomely for my services.”
“I’ll give you three coppers for a handsome time.” offered Mr. Pendleton, bringing out a purse of some quality and opening it.
“I’m worth more than that!” exclaimed Mary indignantly.
“I’ll pay no more .” said Mr. Pendleton, putting the purse back into his coat pocket.
“Then I shall be on my way and you will not have the love of a princess!” declared Mary.
Mr. Pendleton was a man in need and the way Mary spoke, the lilt of Irish and the flash of defiant blue eyes lead his heart a merry dance so that he quickly drew out his purse again.
“So how much will you accept?” he asked, his tongue tipping his lips as he began counting out pennies.
“Give me nine of those copper pieces and I shall give you such comfort of service as you would never have had in your life before.” promised Mary.
Mr. Pendleton, now expressed with such excitement drew out the pennies, counting them twice and handing the coinage to Mary. Mary put the money away and then set her back against the wall and lifted up her petticoat.
Mr. Pendleton was an oaf of a man who took his pleasure like a rabid dog, humping with no consideration. Mary made the considerate noises while, at the same time her hand made its way into Mr. Pendleton’s pocket and relieved him of his purse.
“I have to go now!” exclaimed Mary as she slipped her body away from his and began to run down through the alleyway.
Mr. Pendleton stared with eyes which now returned to a dull brown as he stared after the retreating figure. At first the fire took time to dampen and hazed itself in a puzzled way and then the light dawned as he rushed a shaky hand into his coat pocket.
“Help!” he cried. “Thief!”
His voice raised itself like a foghorn and seeming to follow Mary as she ran.