Chapter 7

    Warmth coated my cheek and all down the right side of my body, sliding over my fingers and over my legs. The other side however was cold, goose bumps were on my skin and a shiver ran through me. I opened my eyes and turned my stiff neck.

    Warren was exactly where he had been when I had fallen asleep, and I wondered how long he had been there or if he had even gotten any sleep. His eyes stared into the glowing fire in the hearth: the source of the warmth. His hands rested on the arms of the chair, his glove removed, showing his clawed left hand.

    After a while he still hadn’t spoken and I shifted nervously. “Warren?”

    At the sound of my voice he looked up. We sat in silence for a moment, neither of us moving or saying a word.

    “Your arm,” I said. “You’re hurt.”

    Warren looked at his arm where the bullet from Riley’s gun had sliced across the skin. “It’s nothing.”

    “Let me take a look,” I clambered out of the bed, flattening my ruffled skirts down as best I could, before stepping towards Warren.

    “It’s just a scratch,” he insisted and put his hand over it when I knelt beside him to look.

    “You don’t want it getting infected, do you?” I said, and with a grumble he took his hand away so I could look at the wound. The cut wasn’t too deep and I imitated what Silas had done with my wounds: washing it with water and then tied a piece of cloth tightly around it.

    “Thank you.”

    “It is the least I could do,” I replied as I stood, then crossed the room to pull my shoes on.      

    “I had better take you back to Silas,” he said finally, with a hint of loathing in his tone.

    I nodded. I would be glad to return to Silas and Rosie, at least I knew I could trust them, but Warren…I wasn’t so sure.

    “You must stay close to me,” he said seriously. “This area is known for it’s…more unpleasant crime and you’re the perfect victim.”

    I nodded to show I understood. But was it really as bad as he made it out to be? And what did he mean by you’re the perfect victim. Victim of what exactly? I suppressed a shudder and tried to hide my fear as best I could. I would be glad when I was away from him and back with Silas and Rosie.

    Warren opened the door and took my arm, pulling me down the stairs. We headed for the door but someone appeared from a side door to stand in our way.

    “And who’s this?” the woman questioned, hands on her bony hips. She was tall, middle-aged and had hair tied in a bun with an apron round her middle. There was something about her eyes that made me feel like I’d tell her anything she asked.

    “A friend, who I’m going to take home,” Warren told her.

    “You know I don’t like no dollymops ‘ere,” she eyed me suspiciously and I moved behind Warren slightly.

    “She’s no such thing,” Warren said. “Now, if you would excuse us, we’ll be on our way.”

    The woman glared at us before stepping aside and watching Warren lead me out the front door and onto the street.

    Now that it was light I could see my surroundings much better. The dirt road was narrow and dilapidating houses were packed together on either side. Despite it being daytime it was still quite dark and low cloud hung over us.

    I realised that we must have been in one of the rookeries the Master had told me about. They were filthy places with poor standards of living and packed with criminals and the unfortunate poor. Now that I was seeing it firsthand I could see that the dismal stories I had been told were true.

    Warren gave me no more time to contemplate my surroundings as he pulled me down the nearly empty street. The people there were skinny and wore ragged clothes, staring down at their shoeless feet.

    “Who was that woman?” I wondered.

    “Mrs. Wilbur, the landlady,” Warren explained.

    “She wasn’t very kind.”

    “People seldom are around here,” Warren said. “Mistrust at every corner.”

    “Oh. There is something though…that I don’t understand…” I began nervously.

    “What’s that?”

    “What is a dollymop?” It was a word I had not heard before, but Mrs. Wilbur had used it to describe me and I wanted to know what it meant.

    Warren frowned, and it took him a moment to decide what to say before he spoke. “A dollymop is someone who…sells themselves…usually a woman.”

    I tried to grasp what Warren was telling me. “I don’t really understand. How can you sell yourself?”       

    “It doesn’t matter, don’t worry yourself over it. You’re not one so it doesn’t matter,” Warren said impatiently.

    I decided not to persist my questioning, seeing that Warren was getting irritated, and concentrated on not walking straight through the muck that littered the sides of the road. I couldn’t help but feel incredibly out of place among the people there. It felt like everyone was watching me. It felt like everyone knew who I was, what I was. I was expecting someone to approach me any second to take me back to the Master. I was therefore glad to have Warren beside me holding my arm; I felt a little safer.

    We hadn’t seemed to have walked very far before the sound of a high pitched whistle came from behind us. I paused and Warren came to a halt behind me. A few other people had turned at the noise, and others quickened their pace. There was nothing to be seen behind us, though, and Warren began to pull me along again before the whistle sounded once more.

    “What is that?” I wondered, squinting down the street, searching for the source of the noise.

    “That’d be the peelers,” Warren told me, gritting his teeth. “Which is undoubtedly bad news.”

    “Peelers? What on earth are Peelers?” I questioned, looking over my shoulder as he hurried us down the street.

    “The police,” he answered. There was something about the way he said the name that worried me and I quickly turned back to face the way we were walking.

     There were sounds of shouting and a large group of men burst out of a street to our left. A gunshot rang out and I gripped Warren’s arm tighter. The group were throwing something back into the street they had come from and after a moment policemen followed them through, pushing them back and waving sticks and blowing whistles.

    Warren tried to pull me away from the fighting but soon the whole street was involved and in the chaos I lost my hold on him.

    “Warren!” I yelled. I frantically searched the crowds for him but there was no sign. All around me people were running and shouting. I pressed my hands to my ears and tried not to get knocked over as I attempted to find a way out of the throng.

    I was shoved to and fro and then a gap appeared and I dived for it, emerging from the crowd of people and onto a side-street. There were more gunshots and whistles and I lingered at the mouth of the street, avoiding the chaos but trying to search for Warren. There was no sign of him. He had to be in there, somewhere.

    Someone was pushed out of the crowd and fell onto the ground in front of me. I instinctively yelped and stumbled back a few steps. The sounds seemed to pound my ears and I continued to press my hands to them, gradually backing away from the cacophony. Out of the corner of my eye I saw an old street sign half hanging off the wall; it read – Flower and Dean St.

    Without realising it I’d made it half way down the street. I had thought the previous one had been dismal, but this one made me shudder. The houses were three-stories tall with walls made of smoke-black brick and timber that jutted out in some places; such was the state of many of the buildings. The road was narrow and made the houses seem to loom over me like great, dark shapes. Despite the daylight the street was shrouded with shadows and even though there was chaos the way I had come from I wished I was back on the other road.

    The street was deserted and I looked onward down it; where it led to I had no idea. Something about the street made me feel like I shouldn’t be there. A feeling of fear had settled over me and I began to walk slowly back the way I had come, backwards at first, and then I span and began to flee towards the noise.

    I was almost there, just a few more yards then I would be back in the safety of the crowd, and I would be able to find Warren again. Something latched onto my arm and I jolted to a stop, pain screaming through my shoulder. I swung round to hit the person but they grabbed my other arm.

    “Lost, are we?” It was a man’s voice, but the shadows hid his face from view. “Do you know where you are?”

    I shook my head, frozen from fear and unable to pull away.

    “Dint’ think so. You wouldn’t ‘ve come down here, if you knew where you were.” The light caught his face and I saw a grin of yellowed teeth. “Now, what have you got on your persons, somethin’ valuable, I hope.”

    “I…I don’t have anything,” I told him, my voice quivering. The man’s breath was quite foul and I tried to move my face away from him.

    “Oh, I don’t believe that,” the man said gruffly. “You’ve such a nice dress. Some money, or some jewellery perhaps…”

    His fingers touched the chain around my neck lightly and he tugged the pendant from its hiding place beneath my dress.

    “Well, well, this’s got t’ be worth somethin’,” he grinned slyly and moved his hand round to unclasp the necklace.

    I lashed out with my free hand, striking him across the face. His grip on my other arm was like a vice, however, and he was only temporarily stunned before regaining his senses. I tried to pull away and he lunged for my other arm but I spun round, twisting both our arms behind our backs. Pain rushed through my shoulder but the move had the desired effect and I was able to stumble away from the man’s weakened grip.

    “I want that pendant, girl! Do y’ think you can get away? Do y’?” He came towards me again.

    I was about to turn and run but something stopped me. My body was still weak and I didn’t know I’d be able to outrun him. I didn’t know how to fight but I remember the incident with Riley the day before – I was stronger.

    When I emerged from my thoughts the man was right in front of me, reaching out with grubby hands. I lashed my hands out right away and latched my fingers onto his wrists. His momentum was stopped and he frowned as my grip tightened. He was in pain, I could see it on his face, but I held on tighter, and tighter. A cry from the man brought me to my senses and I withdrew my hands sharply.

    My mouth was agape as I stared at the state of his wrists – all bloody and crushed. Had I done that? I didn’t understand how I could have done so much damage. The man was moaning in pain and stared at his wrists in disbelief.

    Bile rose in my throat and I turned away quickly to find Warren in front of me and I screamed as he grabbed hold of my arms to stop me.

    “There you are, you should not have come down here,” he said. Then he looked behind me and saw the man. I turned back to see him advancing with malice in his eyes.

    Warren pushed me to the side and struck forwards with his hand. I pressed my hand to my mouth as the man’s eyes bulged and looked down and the claws embedded in his chest. None of us moved, and then Warren withdrew his hand and the man slumped to the floor. His claws were wet with red blood and I stared at the body on the floor.

    “Are you alright?” Warren asked and I managed a nod. He reached out and touched the exposed pendant at my neck. A frown formed on his face. “Where did you get this?”    

    “I found it.”

    “Where?”

    “The doctor’s house.”

     Warren stared at the pendant a moment longer before dropping it and tugging on his gloves, pulling his coat sleeve over his hand. “We should go.” He looked down at the body on the floor once more before taking my arm and pulling me away down the street.

    “You did not need to do that.” I managed to say. “You did not need to kill him.”

    “He attacked you,” Warren replied.

    “You did not need to kill him,” I repeated quietly, finding myself very afraid of the man by my side.

    “I did not mean to. I did not want to,” Warren said through gritted teeth. “Same as what you did to his hands.”

    “I don’t understand how I did it. It’s not natural.”

    “One of the many adaptions the doctor gave us.” Warren was silent afterwards and I didn’t press him further.

    I bit my lip and changed the topic of conversation. “What happened back there? Why were the police there? Why was everybody shouting?”

    “Who knows? Someone probably started some trouble, it escalated, the Peelers got involved and it escalated some more,” Warren explained. “It happens a lot.”

    Warren walked me back to Silas’ house in silence. I tried to remember the way but I soon lost track of all the streets and turns. The sun slowly rose and was at its highest point in the sky when I began to recognise my surroundings. We walked past The Lock and Key and I stopped, turning to Warren.

    “I know where I am now, I can make my own way,” I told him.

    He shook his head. “No, I’ll take you to the door, make sure you get in alright.”

    “That is very thoughtful, but I really can take care of myself from here,” I insisted.

    Warren stared at me a moment before replying. “If you wish. Farewell. And be more careful in future, Charity. Do not make the mistake of thinking the greatest danger is behind you.” He tipped his hat and turned, walking away from me.

    I stood a moment before heading in the opposite direction, towards Silas’ house. When I knocked on the door it was opened almost immediately and Rosie appeared in the doorway.

    “Silas!” she shouted back inside as soon as she saw me. “It’s Charity!” She turned back to me and I saw that there were dark bags under her eyes and her hair was not as neat as it had been last I’d seen her. “Oh thank goodness, you’re alright. Come on, come in.”

    Rosie ushered me inside just as Silas was walking down the stairs. “Charity,” he said. “You’re back. Rosie told me what happened. Are you hurt?”

    “No, I am quite alright,” I replied, following the siblings into the reception room.

    “I was so worried,” Rosie said. “I am so sorry I left you. I saw you running off with that horrid man chasing you and I thought…well, I did not know what to think… I thought that was it, I thought he would catch you.”

    “I managed to get away.”

    “Where have you been all night? Did you lose the way?” Rosie asked while Silas sat silently in the rocking chair.

    “Someone found me, and helped me,” I said carefully.

    Silas looked up and it was as if he could read my thoughts. “Someone?”

    “Yes.”

    “Who?” I had the feeling he knew the answer to the question, and I spoke the name quietly. Silas tensed as soon as I said it. “I see.”

    “I was quite safe,” I told him, wringing my hands together. “I made it back alright, did I not?”

    “Yes,” Silas said quietly.

    Rosie noticed the tension and forced a smile. “You must be very tired after everything that has happened. You should go and have a lie down.”

    “Yes,” I said. “I think I shall.” I left the room without another word, aware of Silas and Rosie watching me. I wondered why Silas seemed to have such a dislike for Warren. They must know each other, something must have happened between them; what, though, I did not know.