Chapter Seven
Before he entered the carriage, he turned toward Sue and Violet again. He grabbed Sue’s wrist. Into her palm, he pressed seven gold coins. “For your trouble.”
Sue’s mouth dropped open. She was still staring at the spot where he stood even after his carriage was gone, and the clomping noise of his horses’ hooves faded.
A sharp pinch from her new friend brought her back to the present. “Ouch, man, what the hell—”
“He gave you seven gold guineas! And you didn’t even have to do nuffin’ for it!” she squawked, her voice unnaturally loud in the deserted London street. “Lucky dog! You give some of those to Mrs. Hicks, and she’ll for sure let you stay for a week. Maybe she’ll even let you work for her.”
Sue squeezed her fingers around the gold coins and stuck them inside the tight bodice of her dress. “I’m sorry, where did you say lived again?”
Sue wouldn’t find out the answer to that question until the next day when it was bright and early. Violet, her benefactress, snuck her in through a side door from a back alley. It led into a kitchen that stunk of dirty grease and cheap perfume that seemed to have permeated every surface. A couple of women sitting at the large wooden table by a concrete sink were drinking and smoking.
They looked up with raised eyebrows and low whistles when Sue and Violet walked in. Sue pushed the scarf off her head since the air in the kitchen was warm and a little stifling. One of the women stared at her with her mouth hanging open.
“Oi, Vi, where d’you find this bird? Mrs. H is going to shit kittens when she sees her.” The red-haired woman flicked the ash of her cigarette on the table. “She’s as pretty as a doll, she is. Oh, Patrice is going to lose it!”
“I could use a break,” cackled the other woman. “Everyone’s going to want them some Oriental quim for sure.”
“Does she speak English, Vi? You better teach her a couple of words like suck and—”
Whatever the woman was saying faded into the dark as Violet dragged Sue to a dimly-lit corridor beyond the kitchen. The smell wasn’t so bad here, Sue thought, relaxing into a normal breathing mode.
Her new friend told her that her room was on the third floor. She led Sue up a rickety, narrow spiral staircase that threatened to give out with each step they took. This is a bloody death trap, Sue said to herself. Violet ushered her into an enclosed area that was roughly the size of Sue’s storage close back—where? Home? China? Why couldn’t she remember anything?
On the floor was a pallet and a pile of blankets. Violet lit a small candle, which only made the tiny room look smaller and sadder. She stripped down to her shift, and Sue was stricken to see how bony and pale her young friend was. Shivering violently, Violet ordered her to do the same before lying down and burying herself under the blankets. With only her blond head poking out and resting on a pillow, she looked so innocent and vulnerable that Sue’s heart broke for her.
“Hurry up and get to bed, will ya?” she commanded in her smoker’s voice. “We’ve got a busy day tomorrow, and Mrs. Hicks don’t like her girls lying on their backs unless they’re workin’.”
Sue hesitated to take off her gown because it was colder than a morgue’s freezer in the room, and she wasn’t sure what she had on under the whole shebang. She knew for sure she wasn’t wearing panties. But she couldn’t sleep in this ridiculous, constricting thing. She took the coins out of her bodice and set them down on the floor next to her feet. To the best of her abilities, she managed to strip off the gown—as trapped as she was in endless ribbons and buttons—only to find that she was wearing some kind of torture device underneath that forced her body into a shape that nature didn’t intend. Thankfully, all she had to do was pull the shoelace-like thing at the base of her spine to make the monstrous thing release her. She tossed the corset in a heap on top of her gown.
She was pleased to find she was wearing a simple muslin shift and a red petticoat under all that rubbish.
“I could have helped you, you know,” Violet said, after recovering her breath. She had just finished a coughing fit.
“Well, I managed.” Sue laughed and did a pirouette, feeling fifty pounds lighter. She looked around the room for a place she could stash her loot and frowned. Not that she could see too well in the dark, but there wasn’t much in the confined space.
“China doll, look behind you. There’s a small lockbox beneath that pile of clothes. Inside is the key to it. You can put all yer goodies in there. I know you don’t ken me from Eve, but I ain’t gonna steal from you. I ken you can break every single bone on my body and have me for supper. Ain’t much meat on the bones, though.”
Sue’s throat burned with unshed tears. Maybe it was because she had a long, shitty day, but the young woman’s generosity made her want to weep. She found the box, which sure enough had a key in it, and placed her rings, the coins, and other jewelry that she didn’t even realize she was wearing, inside. She snapped the box shut and locked in. Holy crap, she had on ruby earrings and a diamond necklace, and she had no idea! Violet deliberately turned her back so Sue could hide her box.
Laughing to herself, Sue stashed the box back where she found it, then liberated a ribbon from the gown. She fed it through the key, made a knot at the two ends, and slipped over her head. Satisfied, she dove under the blankets before she could turn into a meatsicle.
After a few minutes of silence, Violet asked, “Hey, China doll, what’s ‘Soo’ short for?”
Sue smiled into her pillow, which was surprisingly fluffy and clean. “Susan.”
Her new roommate burst into laughter. “You’re bamming me. How are you named ‘Susan’? That’s not very exotic-like, is it?”
Sue laughed. “No, I guess not.” Damn if she could remember if she had a Chinese name. She barely recalled her—American?—one.
They fell silent again and Sue, whose day finally caught up with her, started to drift off to sleep. The floor was hard and cold, and every few minutes, Violet let loose a round of wet, hacking cough. After a while, Sue found herself rubbing the young woman between the shoulder blades every time she did so.
“Sue,” she said, just as Sue was nodding off.
She didn’t bother opening her eyes. “What’s up?”
“The roof, you ninny.” Violet laughed. “Can you teach me your fighting tricks? I should like to learn how you took down those arseholes.”
Violet was pulling her arm and telling her it was almost nine in the morning, even though it was still pitch dark in the tiny bedroom. Sue pushed herself off the hardwood floor, yawning and rubbing her lower back.
“Hurry up, will you? Do you want to starve for the day? Mrs. H only feeds us at breakfast, and we’ll have nuffin’ but scraps if we don’t get down there now.”
Violet helped her back into her gown and brushed her hair so that it cascaded down her back like a black waterfall. It reached Sue’s waist, which confused her because she couldn’t recall ever having long hair.
Frowning, Violet set her hands on Sue’s shoulders and gave her a little push to put some distance between them. She scrutinized Sue with a narrowed gaze.
“Good enough,” she muttered. “Let’s go. I hope you hid your stash well. No one ever comes up here, but ye never know. Be sure to tell Mrs. H you’ve got money. It’ll go a long way toward making her sweet on you.”
Sue wondered at Violet’s ever-changing accent. During the short time she’d known the girl, she’d spoken with a harsh cockney accent, a posh lady one, and from time to time, something that sounded kind of Scottish. Sue shrugged. Maybe Violet was a country girl who was just trying to fit in somewhere. She also worried over this Mrs. H. What kind of a nightmare was she when she could scare even a scrappy, street-tough kid like Violet?
The two of them entered the kitchen, and Sue automatically threw her arm up to protect her eyes from the sudden influx of brightness coming from the open windows. Upon her appearance, an explosion of tittering and chattering surrounded her. The women marveled about her ball gown, hair, and face. Some of them didn't hesitate to grab at her skirts and paw at her hair with their greasy hands, even as Violet hissed and batted them away.
"She looks like a porcelain doll, she does," whispered a woman with red hair. "How do you reckon she gets her skin so smooth?"
“Silence,” commanded a voice that belonged to someone who was used to being obeyed. “Eat your breakfast and shut yer gobs. Money ain’t going to make itself. I need you out there working, not sitting on yer fannies all day.”
Sue froze in her spot.