The Sinister Gentleman

The sound horse’s hooves faded into the night, pulling a cab into the engulfing smog and leaving the solitary gas lamp casting its dim aurora about the desolate street. A dishevelled woman appeared from a dark ally – her long purple dress was damp from hem to knee as it stroked the wet cobbled stones. She wore a tired looking hat – pathetic with its unkempt flowers hanging compliantly alongside a bedraggled nest of hair. Making her way through the haze she trudged on, muttering; “Bloody pea soup.”

The humouring mist parted for her, reviling a public house window, where men, laughing and merry in their inebriated world, were silhouetted.

Close by, a door opened and out he tottered with an air of contentment and instantly, she targeted him for her attentions.

“Don’t go yet Mister.” She called as he began to make his way home. He stopped allowing her to advance, and at once realised that it was the very woman who had been pestering him to buy gin earlier in the evening.

“What do you want now? I thought I had got read of you. Clear off – go on with you now.”

She had not been wearing her hat then and he had not taken much notice of her attire in the crowded Tavern. Just that she was young, about mid twenties, stunk of gin and had no front teeth.

“Oh don’t be like that, I were only trying to be friendly an all. There was no need for you to be so rude.”

“You were pestering me to buy you a drink.” Although slightly the worse for his drinking session, he was still focused and feeling rather indignant about the whole affair concerning the scrounging woman before him.

“I didn’t get one though, did I?”

“You most certainly did not and just because I refused, you became insulting. Thankfully, before the torrid situation got worse; the landlord had come to my rescue and removed you from the premises.”

“Well no hard feelings then, aye.”

He took a deep breath and straightened himself up. He was about to dismiss the situation when the dishevelled woman spoke again.

“Oh, fancy bumping into you again,” her face beamed with delight as though they had parted the best of friends.

“Oh Christ,” he muttered. “Are you still on the ear hole? Not now love, I’m not in the mood.” He began to walk on, having no desire to be seen with the woman, but she fell in beside him.

“Come on mate, we could go some where else or you could give me three pence and...” She stopped and began to fondle his arm. “I’d go off some where by myself and leave you alone.”

“Go away will you, tonight’s not good.” He said agitated. “You caused great embarrassment and I am still furious at your confounded impudence. Have you been waiting out here for me to leave?” he asked.

“What if I have then, aye?”

“Why?” His nose wrinkled contemptuously.

She giggled, and looked up with a big toothless grin. “Because sometimes you get a gut feeling about things and you know when you’ve got a good chance of an earner.”

“Not from me you ain’t. Piss of you old hag.”

“Ooh, that’s nice, I must say. Sometimes it is. I’ve seen you before mate, with some of the other girls so don’t start getting all holy with me.” She poked his side tantalisingly.

Sober, perhaps he wouldn’t have indulged her with arguments. Instead, he fuelled her persistence. “You don’t give up do you?”

“No, least not with you I ain’t.” She swaggered and tried to nestle into his side, bet he gently pushed her away.

“I think you’ve had enough. Why don’t you go home?”

“Walk me to the lodging house and give me three pence and I’ll go.”

“No, will you just piss off. Find someone else.” He turned to walk off, but she grabbed his arm and pleaded.

“Please Mister. Just get me back to the lodging house and give me three pence, then I’ll have a bed for the night. I won’t have to stay out in this.” She nodded towards the thick fog.

He had an overwhelming desire to push her away and for a moment he lingered, reasoning that if he did she could loose control the way she had earlier at the Inn. In turn, he might bring his own drunken violence upon her - the people from the Public house would remember their argument. Cursing he shook his head and then looked into her wretched pleading face.

“If I walk you back, will you promise to go straight into your room and leave me alone?”

“Yeah, course I will. Honestly Mister, I just want to get me head down and if I don’t have the money I end up out on the streets. Then, if I do earn some - I end up going to the pub, telling myself that I’ll meet someone else after I’ve had a drink.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t always happen like that does it?”

“No, but tonight is cold and I really don’t fancy the streets.”

“Well it’s your lucky night, providing you go straight into the lodging house as promised.”

“I will, I swear it. Come on then walk me back.” She held his arm and led the way through gloomy streets that were swabbed in grey cotton haze, hiding much of the woeful squalor that was about them. Sometimes voices were heard from some of the dwellers and passers by, but none were sighted. She said nothing to him, sensing that he just wanted to complete the chore then be on his way and any antagonism could mean street walking for the night.

They finally stopped before a murky walkway where drizzle glistened against the depressing brickwork, cascading down in vein-like tributaries to end in the flowing gutter. Dim lights glimmered from windows diluting into the misty night, enhancing the misery.

“What’s your name any way?” she asked.

“Everyone knows me and no one knows who I am,” he replied reluctantly as they stood before an old door. “Is this the place then?” He hated the squalor and wanted to be off to his own.

“Yeah, are you still going to give me three pence?” She seemed anxious that he might not stick to the entire bargain.

He sighed and put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins, which he began to rummage through.

“Couldn’t make it a tanner, could you?” she ventured.

“Don’t take bleeding liberties,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You don’t know how bloody lucky you are young lady, so don’t push it – understand?”

She jumped back at the sudden outburst and smiled back nervously, trying to calm his anger. “Oh I do realise Mister, honestly, and I’m most grateful to ya.”

He stared back and his face softened. “What with the insults back at the pub – you’re most fortunate indeed. All those people looking while you make a spectacle of me.” He placed three pennies in her wanting hand and she stared down at the dirty worn heads of Queen Victoria. They had been freely given and she had not done anything to earn them.

She looked up and smiled. “God bless you Mister.” Then she went into the dingy hall closing the door behind her.

“He’s blessed you alright lady,” he muttered to the weathered door. “All those people seeing me means poor Jack’s sharp knife can’t rip you up my little sweet heart.” He turned clenching his teeth sadistically and walked off into the misty night.