Page 6

Lizzie fidgeted in her seat. It seemed only the brutal truth would work in this instance. “I have no money and lack even a roof over my head at this minute,” she admitted hoarsely. “Moreover, I have no one that would recommend me or stand witness to my good character. That bag there contains all I own in the world.”

Mrs. Napp narrowed her eyes a moment as though assessing her words. After a moment, she sighed. “You got anything in there you can pawn?” she asked nodding at the carpet bag.

It was five minutes later that they had separated her meagre possessions into two piles. The first had a change of clothes, her nightgown, bible, and woolen shawl. The second comprised of her best dress of green taffeta, her decorated wooden hairbrush, a tortoiseshell hair comb, and a small enamel brooch.

“I don’t say as you’ll get much for ’em,” Mrs. Napp said doubtfully, pushing the second pile toward Benedict Toomes. Lizzie flushed as he rolled the items inside her dress. She had been wearing that dress at supper last night. It seemed very wrong watching him put his hands all over it now.

“I won’t be long,” he said bundling it under his arm, for he had been nominated to take the items to the pawn shop. Lizzie wondered how he’d find his way, for he asked no directions of Mrs. Napp. Was he familiar with the East End, then? If he had been raised here, she could detect no accent.

He shut the door behind him, and Mrs. Napp turned immediately to her middle daughter. “Liza, go and fetch what’s left of that jug of beer,” she instructed. “And two mugs. You’ll take a drop with me now, Miss Anderson.” When Lizzie went to object, for she never accepted refreshment from any of her charity cases, she was summarily overruled. “Nonsense,” the older woman said briskly. “I’d offer you water, but it’s not safe to drink round these parts.”

Lizzie took the mug Eliza solemnly handed her and watched as it was half filled with flat looking beer.

“Your health,” Mrs. Napp said and drained her own cup.

Lizzie took a cautious sip. “And yours,” she replied feebly. Strange to say, she did feel fortified after she drank a little more. “I must warn you, Mrs. Napp,” she said forthrightly. “If you do offer me shelter, you would not be advised to admit as much to any of my former acquaintances.”

“Cast you off and all, have they?” Mrs. Napp snorted. “Well,” she said comfortably. “If we gets a knock on the door, you’ll have to slip into the back room and make yourself scarce. And mind,” she said raising her voice and looking about at her children and apprentices. “You’re not to breathe a word about Miss Anderson when we gets any callers from St. Joseph’s.”

Before anyone could make a reply, she turned back to Lizzie. “Now quick, come and tell me before ’e returns,” she said. “What you been up to, blackening your name so deep?”

Lizzie flushed and darted her eyes at the younger occupants of the room. “I’d rather not say in front of current company,” she said primly. The thought of even repeating her tale made her heart quail. Mrs. Napp looked more intrigued than ever.

Luckily, it was not long before they heard a sharp rap on the door. Lizzie was half out of her chair to fly into the other room, but it was Benedict Toomes returned already. He held his hand out to her and dropped a bunch of coins into her hand.

“Thank you.” She turned immediately to Mrs. Napp with them. “Is this enough?” she said spreading her hands wide.

Mrs. Napp’s eyes widened, and she shot a speculative glance at Benedict. “Just give me this for now for your food and lodging for a week, and we’ll see how we go on from there,” she said taking a silver sixpence. “Tuck the rest of it away,” she recommended, and Lizzie made haste to do so, buttoning into an inner pocket in her carpet bag.

“I’ll be getting along now,” Benedict Toomes said. “I’ve got to see a man across town at eleven, then I thought I’d call in at Sitwell Place.”

Lizzie flushed at the mention of her late home. “Of course,” she said holding out her hand to him. “Thank you for your aid this morning. It was very good of you,” she said, wishing she sounded less stiff and awkward.

He glanced at her hand but made no move to take it. “I’ll be back later,” he said, astounding her.

“Oh.” It trembled on her tongue to demand why, but she didn’t quite have the nerve to ask. Did he mean to act as intermediary then between herself and her family? She regarded him doubtfully a moment. Quite frankly, she could not imagine a less likely peacemaker.

He nodded at Mrs. Napp and made his way out of the door, his progress closely followed by the eyes of all ten occupants of the room.

“Quite the gent, ain’t he?” Mrs. Napp commented, sticking her tongue in her cheek. “Wouldn’t kick him out in the cold, would you?” One of her daughters giggled and was nudged by another. Lizzie, who had never considered him a gentleman in even the loosest sense, folded her lips. “Said he was engaged to that pretty little cousin of yours, didn’t you?”

“Yes, he and Betsy are to be married in three days’ time,” Lizzie answered repressively. She did not want to encourage this topic of conversation if she could help it.

“What’s his trade, if I might make so bold as to ask?” Mrs. Napp continued, drawing a pile of shirts toward them. Lizzie noticed the way all the apprentice’s gazes swiveled curiously to her. Why were they so intrigued about Mr. Toomes? she wondered in bewilderment.

Lizzie cleared her throat. “He is a prizefighter,” she admitted. “Or rather, I should say he was. I believe he is currently looking about for a more settled living, in anticipation of his marriage.”

“Prizefighter?” Mrs. Napp looked impressed. “Never say so! And him so handsome! I always thought they had cauliflower ears and broken noses.”

“Like that Mr. Chapman, Mam,” chimed up Susan. “What lives above the grocers.”

“Yes, him, luv,” agreed Mrs. Napp absently. “They say he made a powerful amount of money back when he was in his prime. Lost it all of course,” she sniffed. “And none of those pretty gals what flocked around him when he was plump in the pocket stuck around once it was spent.”

Lizzie drew her chair closer as Mrs. Napp passed her a needle and thread. She was glad to see the subject of prizefighters seemed closed for now.

“Now, the girls here has cut out the shirt pieces,” Mrs. Napp explained, gesturing. “Aggie is sewing the cuffs and Jessie is on the yokes. I’ll put you to setting the sleeves into the shoulders. It’s fiddly work, and you can’t be taking an age over it,” she cautioned. “Not if we’re to make our daily quota.” Lizzie nodded and watched painstakingly as Mrs. Napp demonstrated the technique she must employ.

4