Page 71 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘Look,’ she said in a low voice.

‘I can see them,’ Miriam whispered back. Her eyes dropped to Jenny’s hand, but she didn’t move her arm.

The men nudged each other, then, one after the other, they swiftly entered the barber’s shop.

‘Neither of them have beards,’ Miriam observed. ‘I don’t think they have gone in for a shave.’

‘They certainly look the sort of men who have sufficient leisure time during the day when they do need to,’ Jenny agreed. She looked at Miriam. ‘I think it’s time for me to go in while whoever is inside will be busy with them.’

‘Be careful. If you need me, just whistle and I’ll do my best to come to you.’ Miriam leant forward and kissed Jenny’s cheek. ‘Good luck.’

Jenny’s muscles spasmed with the need to respond, but she kept herself under control. This was not the time to complicate matters or damage their fragile truce. She nodded, then walked across the road, trying to emulate the confidence the young men had shown. She entered quietly, keeping against the door as she pulled it to.

The two men were engaged in a conversation with a short woman dressed in an amethyst silk gown and a silk cap with amethyst velvet trim. Her breasts were spilling over the top of the tightly laced bodice, and she could not have looked more like the madam of a brothel if she had been given the run of a theatre costume box. While they discussed terms for hiring a pair of rooms (with no mention of an occupant) for the evening, Jenny snuck through the door that Gwen had mentioned and into the coffee house.

The light that had escaped through the shutters was from three gas lamps set at intervals along the wall, each beside a closed door. Jenny’s stomach squirmed and she bit her lip anxiously. It was too risky to spend long here, but she couldn’t open the doors and see who was inside.

A door at the end opened and a tall, thin figure appeared, momentarily silhouetted against light from within. Jenny ducked behind the floor-length brocade curtain that separated the coffee room from the corridor. It wouldn’t hide her if anyone came in there, but shielded her now from view.

‘Come with me, my sweet.’

Augusta!

When she heard the familiar voice Jenny almost cried out loud. Augusta was walking towards her, and from the footsteps it was clear she wasn’t alone. Jenny closed her eyes, expecting discovery at any moment, but Augusta stopped in front of a door and Jenny heard the sound of a key unlocking it.

‘Now, this room is yours and soon your guest will be with you. I have something to help you relax before they arrive and help you entertain him.’

‘What is it? I don’t drink. The priest told me never to touch the demon drink.’ The voice that replied reeked with anxiety. It wasn’t Sally, to Jenny’s relief, and there was no Welsh to her accent, so it wasn’t Mr Parry’s niece either. But it was someone young, and that was horrible to think of.

‘Priests don’t know everything. It’s just something that will help you relax before you meet one of my guests.’

‘But what is it?’

Jenny could hear the worry in the girl’s voice and her heart lurched.

‘A little drink. All my girls use it. Cathy takes it. Myrtle did, too. It lowers inhibitions somewhat. Four or five drops in a glass of water does the trick. The nice,rich, young man will appreciate you more if you aren’t so fretful.’

Jenny closed her eyes, her throat welling up with nausea as she realised what the ‘little drink’ must be. This was what Augusta was doing with the bottles that she bought. They weren’t for the men, but for the girls who serviced their needs. She gripped the folds of brocade with one hand and clenched the other into a fist.

‘I don’t think I want that. I don’t think I want to be here. This was a mistake.’ There was pleading in the girl’s voice.

‘Come now, dear.’ Augusta’s voice was syrupy. ‘Nobody wants to do this at first, but we all have to make sacrifices. I did when I was your age and now look at me.’

‘I want to go home!’

‘You don’t have any home beside this.’ A note of acid had crept into the syrup. ‘You’re my girl, and that’s all there is to it. You may as well enjoy the experience. Just think, if the young men like you, they might buy you some lovely gifts.’

The girl sobbed. Jenny heard the clinking of glass then Augusta spoke again.

‘Now drink this, and before long everything will feel wonderful,’ she said, in a voice that sounded far too soothing. ‘You’ll have a lovely time, yourself, so the girls tell me.’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this at all. I don’t need money so much.’

‘Oh, you have no idea how much money you may need,’ Augusta said. ‘Nice dresses are expensive. Food and lodgings are also expensive these days. Who can afford to be picky about what jobs you do?’

‘I don’t need nice dresses. I want to go back to the chop house.’

There was the sound of a slap, followed by a cry and rapid words in a language Jenny didn’t recognise. She realised this was the young girl they had first encountered sitting at the desk in Augusta’s office.