The Tumbling Girl by Bridget Walsh

Author:Bridget Walsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallic Books

THE FOURTH STANHOPE: IN WHICH MISS BELFER CONTEMPLATES HER FUTURE

Temperance meetings always left Annie desperate for a drink, and she knew a gin house that would still be open at this time of night. She checked the time. Minnie Ward would be long gone. No chance of running into her again, nosy little madam.

She crept quietly down to the basement and slipped out of the house, leaving the back door on the latch. Just like they’d asked her to that night.

She moved swiftly, ducking in and out of alleyways and side streets, her feet so familiar with the route she could have walked there in her sleep. She reached the gin house, a foul-smelling hut sandwiched between a brothel and the house of a night-soil man. Scraping through her pockets for a few coins, she handed them over with the bottle to the old crone who ran the place, trying desperately not to touch her calloused hands with their ragged, grimy fingernails. She waited impatiently for the bottle to be refilled, then took a long draught, her hands shaking as she slaked her thirst.

Temperance, Annie reminded herself. Not teetotalism. Temperance. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have a drink, just that she needed to drink a little less. And she had been. She’d been doing very well, in fact, until a few weeks ago, when events had sent her hurtling back to the bottle.

And, really, what had she done after all? Left a door open. Gone to bed and pulled the pillow over her head so she wouldn’t hear nothing. That fella, the one with the voice like warm treacle, only three fingers on his left hand, he’d told her he just needed to get inside the house. Take something from Mr Winter’s room. A joke, he’d said. Just a little joke.

She left herself enough gin for a nip when she got into bed and started to walk back to Stafford Street. Her stomach cramped violently as the gin hit the mark. She leaned against a wall and doubled over for a few minutes, then straightened up with exaggerated slowness and moved on.

Mr Winter had told her she was beautiful. Which was a lie, but it was still nice to hear. He’d made her his parlour maid, of all things. Told her he wanted to show her off to the world. Foolish man. She smiled to herself at the memory.

And then the photographs. He’d asked her to pull up her sleeves, show her muscles. Got her scrubbing the floor in that photographic studio of his. The dirtier she got, the more he seemed to like it. Dressed her in a gent’s suit once or twice; well, most of a gent’s suit. Never touched her though, except when he’d moved her around for the photographs. Never anything else.

Mrs Winter, she knew what was going on in that studio. Knew what kind of a man she’d married, but she said nothing. Didn’t want anyone knowing what kind of fella Mr Winter was. And she was nervous as a cat now, worrying that the truth would come out.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.