Reaching the Commercial Road she stopped, gasping for breath and feeling the phlegm rising to her throat so that she spat and put a hand out to the wall and waited till she could breathe more easily. It seemed that she coughed more readily now. Sam continually blamed the small clay pipe she now constantly filled with the black shag she gained from the sailors and dock-workers who visited the tavern. Mary was also aware of the times when she hurried, when a sharp pain would cause her to clutch at her chest and holding on to whatever kept her balance till the pain subsided.
Keeping to the shadows Mary made her way to the Seven Bells. She lifted her petticoat and tucked the stolen purse down inside her garter before entering then patted at her hair as she put a smile to her face. She waved to Goldie and Della and to some of the regular customers before going upstairs to the bedroom. Lighting a candle, she lifted up her skirt and petticoat to draw out the purse and opened it. Inside was a smaller purse of soft brown leather with a corded draw-string. Opening it, Mary gasped when she saw six golden sovereigns and four shilling pieces. Taking out the smaller purse, Mary hung the cord round her neck and pushed the bag down to nestle between her cleavage. The larger purse of a beige pigskin contained a number of pennies and some smaller coinage. Lifting up her petticoat she withdrew her own small purse and put that into the bigger one before pushing the purse into the garter tight up on the outside of her thigh.
That night Mary entertained a Mr. Hugo Lawrence, a man of considerable proportion who snorted up his nose and between snorting managed to hold a well-spoken conversation which allowed him to do the talking while Mary simply listened. The offered drinks came thick and fast which Mr. Hugo Lawrence drank and talked, snorted and laughed all in equal portion till he decided it was time to go to bed. Mary serviced him as he talked on all manner of things till he eventually turned over on his side and talked till he began snoring loudly and then begin to talk and snort in his sleep.
Mary lay there for some time, not bothering to search through the man’s pockets. She lay and thought about the things the family needed and what she should buy. Like most people who had lived on very little, Mary spent an idle while planning to spend the money on luxuries. However, Mary had learned to be very prudent in her ways and so decided to keep the money in the draw bag and say nothing, she deciding not to even tell the children, understanding that the money might well be needed for an emergency in the future.
Beth ran to kiss her mother as she came into the room before stoking up the fire and placing the pot to hang over the heat. Mary walked over to Sam and gave the boy a hug. Sam shrugged her approach away.
“Don’t be such a grouch-baby.” Mary scolded in play.
Sam averted his eyes and continued to stare out of the window. Though Mary showed no concern and continued to talk to Beth she threw glances at Sam, her brows drawn at the way he displayed such reticence to interact with her. He seemed to grow quieter and more introspective each day, secretive and dark in his thoughts. Mary had spoken to Beth on the subject but Beth in rather a mature way suggested that all small boys go through such a phase.
Later in the day Mary took Beth and Sam up to the Spitalfields Market. They spent the time wandering round the stalls and buying some fresh vegetables and a treat of some fruit. She bought Sam a knife with which to whittle wood, a preoccupation Sam seemed to be constantly involved in, carving small models before cutting them to pieces. Beth chose a rag doll, cuddling it like a baby as they walked a leisurely way back to the house. Mary walked with a confidence of the East-End women, haranguing and haggling with costermongers while allowing flirtatious smiles and soft words of invite to gain her the best of a bargain. She now carried a parasol in the sun and a bonnet topped the bustle of skirt as she paraded the market. Life was good and the children well fed.
That night Mary made herself ready for work and hurried from the house making sure that she skirted the streets she had used the night before and was glad when she had reached the door of the Seven Bells. She leaned against the door, gaining her breath and began to cough. Spitting the phlegm from her throat, she calmed herself then pushed the door open. Danny stood at the bar and insisted he buy Mary a drink before she went upstairs to get dressed into her working clothes.
“I’ve bought you some new clothes.” he smiling offered as she drank to his good health.
Mary felt the experience of the fire within the drink as it went down, knowing its strength of easing any insecurity she might feel. Upstairs, she touched at the new clothes which lay set out on the bed. The cloth to the dress was soft in a green silk, low in cut to display ample cleavage and styled to a shorter length which set off the allure of leg. Mary smiled at the changes Danny was making, understanding that he was now bringing her more into line with the other girls who walked the floor downstairs. She shrugged as she undressed and began to put on the new clothes. Did she expect to remain the princess? Of course not. She knew that men like Danny had no interest in women other than a commodity which gained him money.
Having dressed, Mary inspected the coins before patting the soft leather of the draw-string purse and pushing it down between her cleavage and then made her way down the stairs, dodging the customary men who reached out for a grope she made her way to the booth and drew the curtain over. A drink was already sitting on the table and Mary drank it in one gulp, feeling the spirit warming her.
“Hallo dearie. Here’s your gent for the evening.”
Goldie had pulled the curtain aside to announce Mary’s client for the night.
“Here’s a very fine gentleman. His name is Mr. Pendleton.”
Mary jumped up, startled by the sudden appearance of the man she had robbed the night before.