Chapter 18 #2
‘Who is Miss Beadsley?’ Miriam asked.
Jenny was pleased to note a hint of sharpness in Miriam’s voice that she hoped might be jealousy, though she was aware she was clutching at any sign that Miriam cared.
‘A fiction I invented so I had an excuse for leaving the house,’ she explained. ‘I told my uncle that I was visiting her in the evenings whenever I went out.’
She paused on the doorstep and held out her hand. Miriam cautiously took it and did not pull away.
‘I’ll go and speak to Mrs Walters as soon as I’m able and we’ll try to find Sally. I swear I won’t let you down. As soon as I hear anything, I’ll send a message. If you won’t admit me yourself.’
Miriam nodded. Her lips moved almost into a smile and Jenny’s heart began to race.
‘I told Mrs Walters that I want nothing more to do with making the tincture, even though it means I will have no income,’ Jenny said, her words tumbling out in a rush.
Miriam’s fingers brushed against Jenny’s wrist briefly then she slipped her hand free. She walked down the steps then turned back.
‘I liked you a lot. My feelings towards you ran very deep even though we hadn’t known each other for very long. That’s why it hurt so much. Perhaps if you help me find Sally, I will start to like you again.’
Jenny had to force herself not to smile at the small hope. Instead, she nodded solemnly. ‘I’ll do what I can to make it up to you.’
She stood in the open doorway until Miriam had turned the corner before going back inside, her mind uneasy with what she needed to do.
She visited the pharmacy on Sunday. It wasn’t open, of course, but she waited across the street until she saw Gwen and Mr Walters returning from church.
They walked arm in arm, but stiffly, as though neither was comfortable in the other’s company.
Gwen spotted Jenny, but Mr Walters, intent on walking home, did not.
A look of suspicion flitted over Gwen’s face, but Jenny mimed needing to talk, so as they neared the front door, she spoke to Mr Walters.
He reached into his pocket for his door key and Jenny watched as he struggled to find the keyhole, batting away Gwen’s hand when she tried to help him.
Jenny was struck again at how unpleasant he was to his wife.
She scowled, incensed on Gwen’s behalf, and wondered why Gwen was determined to continue working for Augusta when Mr Walters was so unappreciative.
He succeeded at opening the door and they went into the pharmacy, but before she closed the door Gwen turned, caught Jenny’s eye and nodded.
Jenny waited patiently, and after a quarter of an hour Gwen emerged and crossed the road. They both began speaking at once, but then Jenny held up her hand.
‘Please, Gwen, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s very important.’
She repeated Miriam’s tale of the missing housemaid and expected Gwen to be horrified. She was taken aback when Gwen simply frowned.
‘I know already about dark goings-on, and I have reached the same conclusion.’
‘Have you? How?’
‘I have an acquaintance. A friend, rather, who has lost a relative in what he fears is the same situation.’
‘He?’ Jenny gave her a sharp look.
‘He,’ Gwen admitted. She looked up, and Jenny was struck by the bright fire in Gwen’s eyes. She wondered who exactly this friend was.
‘He’s from where I grew up and he’s looking for his missing niece. I happened to meet him a few weeks ago, and then again this week.’
Her brows knotted and she motioned for them to continue walking. ‘He was nearby Augusta’s chop house, and he believes his niece might be working in a house of ill repute in that area.’
Jenny winced. ‘It’s too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence, isn’t it? Augusta’s man has got to be involved. What I don’t know, is whether Augusta knows what he is doing.’
‘If she doesn’t, then we should tell her – though I suspect she does. She doesn’t seem the type to be unaware of what her employees are up to.’
Jenny shivered at Gwen’s words, thinking that Augusta might be keeping watch on them both. Hadn’t Gwen said that Wolf, Augusta’s employee, had come to her house?
‘I think she knows, but the question is whether she condones it, turns a blind eye, or is actively involved,’ she said.
She thought back to the visits she’d made to Augusta’s chop house.
There had been no sign of any such goings-on as she’d walked through the rooms and up the stairs.
There were no moans or cries for help from women desperate to escape, but had she missed something?
It was a dreadful thought that, behind the other doors on the floor where Augusta’s office was, fallen women were selling themselves or being sold.
‘I imagine if there is a brothel, it is run – probably owned – by Augusta,’ Gwen said. She drew closer to Jenny, leaning in conspiratorially, and Jenny felt a welcome rush of affection that they were once again on the same side.
‘Wolf asked me if I knew how to procure abortifacients. He mentioned Augusta’s girls.’
Jenny sucked in her breath. ‘You didn’t tell me that!’
Gwen gave her a measured look. ‘I didn’t have the opportunity.’
Jenny acknowledged the slight admonition. ‘I think that makes it conclusive. The girls are hardly likely to be common-or-garden barmaids, are they, if pregnancy is such a risk?’ She sighed. ‘I promised Miriam that I would help her find Sally.’
‘Hoping that if you do find her, then your friend will no longer be angry with you?’
Jenny’s stomach clenched. She wasn’t so self-interested, but of course that was powerful motivation. ‘Partly,’ she admitted. ‘But I can’t stop thinking about that poor girl and what silly dreams led her to do that.’
She tilted her head to the side and looked at Gwen. ‘And this friend of yours, do you also hope to please him?’
Gwen dropped her head and became very interested in a loose thread on her sleeve. ‘I have a husband.’
Jenny clenched her jaw. Gwen had given her the answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, and she burned to press her for more information.
‘Does this man mean something dear to you?’ she asked.
‘What does that matter? Should I just abandon my home? I promised to love and obey my husband.’
‘What did your husband promise you?’ Jenny folded her arms, thinking back to the rudeness she’d witnessed from Mr Walters. ‘Has he kept all of his vows?’
Slowly, Gwen shook her head. ‘He’s a good man,’ she said feebly. ‘Besides, what would the world think of me?’
‘Is that what you care about? If you could begin your life again somewhere else, with a different man at your side, without any recriminations, would you?’