The Whitechapel Girl by Gilda O'Neill

Author:Gilda O'Neill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo Books
Published: 2019-04-04T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

‘This is the place,’ said Celia, stepping back towards the kerb so that she could get a proper view of the house.

‘Do you think that she and the Professor, you know,…’ said Sophia raising her eyebrow. ‘Live together.’

‘I’ll ignore that,’ said Celia, gathering her skirts and walking up the steps to the front door. She straightened her hat, took a deep breath, and knocked firmly on the door.

After what seemed like ages, an elderly woman in a clean white apron answered them with a friendly smile.

‘I wish to inquire if Professor Protsky is at home to visitors,’ said Celia, not quite sure what to say in the unaccustomed circumstances of arriving at someone’s house without a formal invitation.

‘I’ll go and see,’ said the woman pleasantly. ‘Won’t yer step inside the hall, miss.’

In her eagerness, Sophia shoved her friend aside, and so was the first to see that Jacob was already coming towards them along the hallway.

‘It’s all right, Mrs Hawkins,’ he said, looking questioningly at the two young women. ‘I’ll deal with it. You get back to your chores.’

‘As yer like, Professor,’ said the elderly woman as she went off to her duties, singing a tuneless little song in a cracked vibrato voice.

‘Now,’ said Jacob, ‘of what service may I be?’

‘I understand that you are prepared to conduct private readings,’ said Celia, her words coming out in a breathless whisper.

Jacob nodded. ‘That is correct.’ He looked at Sophia. ‘Your friend here contacted me after the party last month.’

‘You have a very good memory, Professor,’ said Sophia flirtatiously. ‘And you must meet so many people in your line of work.’

Jacob smiled a broad, easy smile, showing off his handsome features to perfection. ‘How could anyone forget such lovely young women?’ He gestured towards the stairs. ‘Please, won’t you come in?’

Jacob instructed Mrs Hawkins to fetch tea for the two young women, and then left them in the sitting room while he went to the bedroom to speak to Ettie.

‘We have some unexpected guests,’ said Jacob, sitting on the bed where Ettie was still tucked cosily under the covers.

‘Who? No one ever comes here.’ Ettie sat up, frowning.

‘Calm down, nothing’s wrong. You’ve got yourself that private reading we were expecting, that’s all.’

Ettie groaned and rolled over. ‘That’s all I could do with. I thought I was having a rest this evening. Can’t they come back tomorrow?’

Jacob didn’t answer her. Instead he got to his feet, scooped her up in his arms, and dumped her unceremoniously on the stool in front of the dressing-table.

‘Mustn’t let the customers down, now must we?’ glowered Ettie. She sighed, then picked up her hairbrush and began raking it through her thick, glossy, brown curls. ‘Go on, go and tell them I’ll be out in a minute.’

When Ettie entered the sitting room five minutes later, the two young women let out little gasps in surprised unison. It wasn’t only her unusual tallness which made her stand out, it was something about her: her dark hair that

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