I didn’t give it much thought then and looking back there hadn’t been much to see apart from her big yellow head bobbing up and down.
But what was I supposed to see?
For all that I was up there in the cage night after night, watching all the petty thefts and indecencies that gave the halls such a black name, I wasn’t picking up on anything that could point me the way to finding out what had happened to Jenny Pierce or to any of them other missing girls.
When I took my crumbs back to Fitzy I could tell he wasn’t happy and it didn’t make me feel too easy in myself. Tell truth, I was beginning to feel a right nark telling tales on poor types like me who needed to make a living. The problem was I needed to give him something to feed back to the old bitch to show I was keeping my part of the bargain and I had nothing else to offer.
On the evening of my last show at The Gaudy he caught me and Peggy just as we was leaving. He stood in front of the door leading out to the workshop and barred our way.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I felt Peggy stiffen beside me, but he wasn’t talking to her. I looked up into his coarse red face. The usual aroma of liquor was rolling off him and the remains of something he’d eaten was caught up in the whiskers around his mouth. I gripped Peggy’s hand and squeezed it.
‘We’re going back to our lodgings – we always walk together part of the way now – all of us do. You know it’s not safe for a girl alone.’
‘Safe!’ Fitzy snorted and leaned forward. The stench of his rotten teeth made me catch my breath. He stared at Peggy and I saw his tongue move over his lower lip, then he looked back at me. ‘A bit early for you two to be leaving, isn’t it?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s late and it’s cold. I need to rest before we move over to The Carnival. Madame Celeste said I should have at least one free day a week, for the sake of my muscles. She was most particular on that, remember? Come on, Peg.’ I stepped forward.
Fitzy didn’t move, but his little eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been going home straight after the performance every evening, girl?’
I knew what he was driving at. It was common knowledge that a lot of girls in the halls offered late entertainment, if you get me, and Fitzy liked to take a cut of their earnings, but that was never part of this deal. I squared my shoulders and looked at him straight.
‘I’m not going to wait around making chit chat with the Johnnies, if that’s what you mean. Isn’t it enough that I’m hanging up there every night all done up as a tuppenny drab, without me actually putting out as one? I’m doing what you want, aren’t I?’
‘Are you now? We’ll see about that.’ He grunted and moved away from the door. As me and Peggy stepped down into the icy yard he called out, ‘And it’s not me you want to be worrying about, is it, Kitty? Think on that.’
As if I’d forgotten. Every night now when they winched the cage with me inside it up from the stage and out over the hall I’d close my eyes, hold Joey’s Christopher tight in my hand and promise him that everything would come right. This time I’d see something.
It never worked.
But I tell you one thing – I was a sensation, just like Fitzy told Lady Ginger. My act even made a corner of The London Pictorial News :
Miss Kitty Peck, The Limehouse Linnet, nightly defies gravity to delight her growing band of ardent admirers. She is our city’s most daring and radiant rising star, but this correspondent declares that it is the purity of her voice and the effulgence of her soul that glow most brightly in the East.
Well, that was all very complimentary, but those fine words were accompanied by a bold sketch that showed even more of my legs (and other parts) than that little spangled costume allowed. It made Lucca remark that my ‘purity’ and the ‘effulgence’ were probably not the first things that would arrest the readers’ attention when they
But what was I supposed to see?
For all that I was up there in the cage night after night, watching all the petty thefts and indecencies that gave the halls such a black name, I wasn’t picking up on anything that could point me the way to finding out what had happened to Jenny Pierce or to any of them other missing girls.
When I took my crumbs back to Fitzy I could tell he wasn’t happy and it didn’t make me feel too easy in myself. Tell truth, I was beginning to feel a right nark telling tales on poor types like me who needed to make a living. The problem was I needed to give him something to feed back to the old bitch to show I was keeping my part of the bargain and I had nothing else to offer.
On the evening of my last show at The Gaudy he caught me and Peggy just as we was leaving. He stood in front of the door leading out to the workshop and barred our way.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I felt Peggy stiffen beside me, but he wasn’t talking to her. I looked up into his coarse red face. The usual aroma of liquor was rolling off him and the remains of something he’d eaten was caught up in the whiskers around his mouth. I gripped Peggy’s hand and squeezed it.
‘We’re going back to our lodgings – we always walk together part of the way now – all of us do. You know it’s not safe for a girl alone.’
‘Safe!’ Fitzy snorted and leaned forward. The stench of his rotten teeth made me catch my breath. He stared at Peggy and I saw his tongue move over his lower lip, then he looked back at me. ‘A bit early for you two to be leaving, isn’t it?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s late and it’s cold. I need to rest before we move over to The Carnival. Madame Celeste said I should have at least one free day a week, for the sake of my muscles. She was most particular on that, remember? Come on, Peg.’ I stepped forward.
Fitzy didn’t move, but his little eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been going home straight after the performance every evening, girl?’
I knew what he was driving at. It was common knowledge that a lot of girls in the halls offered late entertainment, if you get me, and Fitzy liked to take a cut of their earnings, but that was never part of this deal. I squared my shoulders and looked at him straight.
‘I’m not going to wait around making chit chat with the Johnnies, if that’s what you mean. Isn’t it enough that I’m hanging up there every night all done up as a tuppenny drab, without me actually putting out as one? I’m doing what you want, aren’t I?’
‘Are you now? We’ll see about that.’ He grunted and moved away from the door. As me and Peggy stepped down into the icy yard he called out, ‘And it’s not me you want to be worrying about, is it, Kitty? Think on that.’
As if I’d forgotten. Every night now when they winched the cage with me inside it up from the stage and out over the hall I’d close my eyes, hold Joey’s Christopher tight in my hand and promise him that everything would come right. This time I’d see something.
It never worked.
But I tell you one thing – I was a sensation, just like Fitzy told Lady Ginger. My act even made a corner of The London Pictorial News :
Miss Kitty Peck, The Limehouse Linnet, nightly defies gravity to delight her growing band of ardent admirers. She is our city’s most daring and radiant rising star, but this correspondent declares that it is the purity of her voice and the effulgence of her soul that glow most brightly in the East.
Well, that was all very complimentary, but those fine words were accompanied by a bold sketch that showed even more of my legs (and other parts) than that little spangled costume allowed. It made Lucca remark that my ‘purity’ and the ‘effulgence’ were probably not the first things that would arrest the readers’ attention when they
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