Maggie's Child (27 page)
Authors: Glynis Smy
For goodness sake, get your mind onto something cheerful.
Kitty straightened her body and carried on walking. Her lungs levelled to a normal breathing rate.
‘All right my beauty? ’ Kitty, startled by a male voice turned to find a short, squat man stood in her path. His crumpled, threadbare jacket was tight across his protruding belly. Kitty noticed his trousers did not match the jacket, and were short in the leg. There was nothing either fashionable or attractive about his appearance. In other circumstances she would have found him comical.
He smoothed long unkempt sideburns, and ran a finger across unruly eyebrows. She turned around and continued walking. He rushed in front of her, and again stood in her way. The alley lamplight flashed against something in his hand; a knife.
Shock prevented her from moving. Although she was taller than he was, the thought of trying to fend him off with a knife frightened her. She tried to speak, but her throat constricted.
‘Pretty Ladybird, time for you’ n’ me to get acquainted. I got summit for ya.’ Spittle ran down his chin while he fumbled with his clothing.
Kitty saw her opportunity to escape. She pushed against him with as much force as she could muster.
‘Get out of my way, you great oaf.
Move
.’
She rushed past him but he regained his balance and snatched at her shawl. She swung her arm outwards to fend him off and he grabbed it. The man pulled her wrist, and twisted her body until her back pressed against his chest. He yanked her upper body back and she screamed. A voice echoed from the depths of the alley.
‘Oi, you had better not be bleedin’ working girl. I warned you, this is my patch’. It was with relief Kitty recognised the voice as that belonging the woman who had threatened her.
Kitty screamed out again, but the man tightened his grip.
‘Help me. Please hel...’
‘Shut it.’ The man placed the blade the width of her throat. ‘You will do as I tell you. Understand?’
Kitty felt the point rake across her windpipe, and grunted out what she hoped sounded like a yes. She dared not swallow or move. All around became silent, aside from his heavy breathing below her ear. There were no footsteps, nothing. Much to Kitty’s disappointment the woman decided against investigating their activities. Nervous of her situation, Kitty knew she needed to pacify the man while she worked out what to do. Her body trembled, and tears threatened but she could not let him get the upper hand.
Still the cold blade rested against her windpipe; she barely dared to breathe. He fumbled behind her back with his free hand; she could feel her gown moving. His intentions were clear. Fighting nausea Kitty refused to give into his fumbling. The more she tried to wriggle free, the harder he pressed into her.
Think, Kitty, think.
Her heart and head pounded. Frantic thoughts of succumbing to a murderer at last gave her renewed energy.
Kitty took her chance and with one swift movement, grabbed the arm with the knife. At the same time pushed her body back into his. She heard the tinny echo when knife hit the cobblestones.
‘
Bitch
.’ The man cursed loudly as Kitty knocked him to the floor.
She kicked the knife away amongst a pile of rubbish, lifted her skirts, and ran. She continued running until her lungs could take no more.
At last the end of the tunnel became evident. Grey smog swirling around a lamp, and distant voices told her she was close to the exit onto the main road. A vast dark space opened before her. Kitty glanced over her shoulder. She was relieved to see the outline of the man kneeling on the floor. Tears ran down her face and she used the sleeve of her gown to wipe them away. It was time to compose herself and get out of the alley.
The large courtyard she stepped into looked different at night. The buildings were the back entrances of shops and their storage yards formed a large square. Wooden barrels stacked against the grocery store wall created sinister shapes with misshapen shadows. In the daylight when she walked around the shops and through the alley, the barrels were a burned honey shade with black metal bands, far more pleasant to the eye. It was also evident the greengrocer threw old vegetables behind the barrels. The smell around her was disgusting and rats crawled everywhere.
Father would skin me alive if he knew I had taken this route home.
The recent installation of street lighting did not made it any safer to walk through the yard at night. Kitty reprimanded herself again for being so impetuous. At last the voices grew louder; Whitechapel Road was not too far away. The theatre was close by with crowds of people going to see a show. Kitty loved to see the penny shows on a Saturday afternoon. At that moment she wished to be amongst those attending the evening performance.
With one last glance backwards to reassure herself no one followed, she entered the hustle and bustle of the street. Nerves settled and she took a deep breath of relief; now she could relax.
(Book Two ... Ripped Genes to follow 2013)
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