Silver (11 page)

       
It was easy enough to find Connie, having returned to the same place albeit a few hours earlier. Avery had spotted her quite quickly. He watched as she pressed herself at passing gentlemen. By some she was rewarded with a wink but business was slow and she could not elicit more than that. Avery saw that others visibly recoiled from her, the mere proximity of her seemed to seep under their noses, like a foul smell curling up their features in distaste. She too seemed choosy with her clientele. Several times, she sensed the distaste before it was obvious and saved herself the effort of a wasted opportunity. Avery watched with interest from his hidden vantage point as the woman spotted a lone figure turn into the street. His presence seemed to cause her some concern and, although he was too far off to discern his features, it was obvious from his posture that he was dangerous. The whore drew her shawl up from around her elbows and covered herself, stepping backwards into a doorway. Hers was an ugly line of work and Silver recalled reading of a case reported in the press only a few months ago, of a murdered woman found brutalised. As the man passed her by, Avery noticed her close her eyes in palpable relief. He took the opportunity to cross the street.

             
“Good evening again, Miss,” he said softly.

T
he woman visibly rose as she jumped at the sound of Avery’s voice. She had spun around wildly but was clearly relieved to find her stalker had not been the dark haired man.

“
Christ! What do you mean by sneaking up on people like that? ‘ere don’t I know you?” Her eyes narrowed as she recognised Avery’s face but she failed to place him immediately. He stared directly at her but there was no moment of enlightenment. Caught off guard momentarily, the woman returned to her pitch at hand, a small swell of pride visibly making her hold herself taller at the prospect of a repeat client like the proper house girls got. Her eyes darted around and then she grabbed Avery by the wrist and led him across the street.

“
I’ve a room only two minutes away. Come on,” she said.

       
Though Avery knew he would not be making use of the services she offered within her room, he also knew that to discuss his proposition out in the open would be foolish and he allowed himself to be led, trusting only her discretion of a few months ago to prevent him from falling foul in this dark city. He followed the woman a few streets away to a run down side street off Helier Road, whereupon she stopped beside a tired wooden door that had once been painted a fresh white. The door had borne much abuse and was heavily scuffed, paint peeling from the scratches, the white faded to a dull grey like the fog which Avery imagined would lingered here in the winter.

       
She turned to check that Avery had followed and then gave a cursory glance around them both, to ensure that they were not to be followed inside. The door opened out into a narrow passageway which after a few steps led straight into a staircase. A single door ajar to the left gave Avery an insight into the occupations of the rest of the household. There was little to see, but from the sounds emanating from the inch wide crack, it was clear that the ground floor occupant was hard at work. The woman, noticing Avery’s hesitation, had ascended a few more stairs and now turned above him.

             
“Come on, sir. There’s more I can show you than you can see here.”

       
She stepped down one stair and pulled him by the arm again, leading him upwards to a first floor landing. He was pulled inside another doorway and into the centre of a small room. The sound of the door being latched closed behind him caused Avery to turn, startled. The proximity of this whore, the airlessness of the room and the danger in which he may have placed himself became evident and he had a few moments doubt. The woman turned from the door and threw off her shawl towards the bed. She arranged her business face and walked towards Avery, unlacing her bodice as she approached him.

             
“How do I know you, sir? You look like you would be someone I should remember.”

       
By the time she reached Avery, she had pulled her bodice loose and pushed her breasts up out of the corset so the nipples stood proud of the material. The slight chill in the air caused them to stand erect, the skin around them puckering. She reached down for Avery’s hands and pulled one to her chest, massaging her own breasts with his hand. Avery had not intended for this to happen and he was about to withdraw his hand but he could not ignore the sensation it was eliciting from his groin. He took up a grip of one of her breasts and dipped his head to take the nipple in his mouth. He closed his eyes and was immediately transported to his familiar lakeside setting and, instead of a whore upon whose breasts he was suckling, he was stood over Kate. Kate’s hands ruffling his hair gripping him tighter and Kate’s thighs nudging up into his crotch. Kate’s hands unbuttoning his trousers.

             
“Wait,” he groaned.

       
Avery stepped backwards and away from the woman who was now stood looking at him in surprise. His withdrawal from her seemed to dislodge whatever had been preventing her from recognising him and her eyes narrowed as she considered him again.

             
“Hang on a minute. You’re that tom?’”

       
Her face broke into a wide grin as if she was relieved that she would not be required to perform after all. Given how well Avery had paid last time for nothing, there was every chance that this could turn out to be another lucky night.

             
“I ‘ave to tell you miss, I ain’t ever been with a woman before,” she paused before adding “I’m not so sure I would, normally, but for you, Miss, I’ll only charge you double.”

       
She regained her composure of what she should be offering her clients and stepped forwards more coyly than before. Evidently, she judged her sales pitch should be less forthright. However, her words had filled Avery with a heat far greater than his previous desire and he curled his lip as he attempted a civil tone.

“
Madam, I am not here to avail myself of your services.”               

       
With this he took a step backwards so that his knees were met by the bed behind him. He straightened himself before her, composing his tone before adding. “I am here to discuss business of another kind.”

       
The whore’s face fell as she tried to fathom his meaning. She looked at him warily, freshly suspicious of this character from whom only a few moments before, she had had the promise of a lucky night.

             
“What kind of business?” She cocked her head at an angle and appraised Avery from tip to toe. “I told you, I ain’t into girls, even if they do look like fellas.”

       
A pulse at Avery’s temple throbbed as he ground his jaw tightly on his anger before the woman remarked.

             
“And you do look like a fella, Miss.”

       
Her eyes were narrowed again as if she was trying to seek out an optical illusion from Avery’s image.

“Far better than those t
om’s up the West End.” Her gaze settled on Avery’s throat where the shirt collars clung to his neck. He was endowed with a small lump in his throat which looked like an Adams apple.

             
“If I hadn’t felt for your cock, I wouldn’t have known,” she said this softly, as much to herself as Avery and, as if trying to reassure herself, she stepped forwards to Avery, her arm stretched out to his genitals. Avery had been anticipating such a gesture and he was quick to grab the woman by her wrist and he sidestepped her, so her arm was twisted behind her back. He pushed her arm upwards and stepped behind her so his head was resting next to her’s when he spoke again.

             
“If we are to continue this conversation, you will not try that again, do you understand?”

       
The woman was confused, at the small of her back where Avery stood against her, she could feel something firm pressing against her. Whoever this person was holding her tightly, she could no longer be sure whether he was in fact male or female.

       
Avery let go of his grip and stepped away from the woman.

             
“I am not here to taste your wares, Miss…” he paused, allowing a gap for the woman to introduce herself formerly. She looked at him, holding her wrist where he had restrained her and gave him a wide smile, showing one or tooth gaps where decay had begun.

             
“Constance Brown,” she said, bobbing a wry curtsey at her own introduction. “You can call me Connie, Miss”

“
Well Connie, you will call me either Mr. Silver or Sir, is that clear?”             

             
“Sir or Miss, the price is the same for me and what you do with your time is up to you but by my reckoning you already owe me sixpence.”

       
Connie had regained her sense of what was important and in her trade, time was money. Avery too wished to get down to the business of his errand.

             
“I will pay you for your time Miss Connie but I wish to make an arrangement with you for which I will also reward you well.”

       
Connie’s eyes flickered at the mention of reward and she walked to the makeshift nightstand beside her bed, an upturned crate, faded linen covering its surface. She drew some water from the ewer and poured a cup for herself. She sat upon the bed and withdrew a bottle from under its frame. Avery could see it was some sort of spirit. She added a dash to the cup and drank from it sedately all the while watching Avery from over its rim. She did not offer him anything. Stood before her, Avery began to outline his proposal watching her neutral face take in the details. Her eyes showed the only indication that she was hearing him as they twinkled at the sum of money he was suggesting. As he finished off, there was a silence and he stood rather nervously awaiting her response. Hearing the words spoken out loud had underlined the fact that the whole plan rather relied on both Connie’s discretion and her willingness to place herself in a modicum of danger. Connie finished off her drink and then stood, the frame of the bed squeaking a little. She replaced her cup on the little crate and stepped towards Avery holding out her hand.

             
“You owe me half a crown for tonight and for another sixpence I’ll give your proposal some thought.”

       
Avery felt his shoulders fall in disappointment, he was all too aware of the risks required from Connie in assisting him but he had hoped that his money would be persuasive.

“
Come back tomorrow an hour before six and I’ll give you me answer.”

       
He pressed the money into the woman’s hand and turned to the door.

“
I’ll see you tomorrow,” she smiled before adding, “Mr. Silver.”

~o~

              Connie’s room looked exactly as it had the previous evening and Avery was pleased that she should have gone to no extra effort to accommodate him. The bed was still unmade and the little chest was still strewn with junk: the debris of an earlier meal and the cup, empty again. Connie had agreed to his plan and, having elicited twice the fee from him, had gone out on to the streets, reluctant to leave him alone in her room. As Avery stood in the doorway of the small wardrobe inside which he was to hide, he marvelled at what Connie thought might be worth his taking. The bottle under the bed, she had not entrusted with him, for she had taken this along with her. She had twice told him.

             
“It’s what’s between my legs what’s worth anything in this room, sir,” she spoke deliberately, pronouncing the ‘
Sir’
as if Avery were indeed royalty or that she may be rewarded by using the term more frequently. There was no doubt that she was wary of him, as if she did were unsure of what he truly wanted from this arrangementm but the lure of the money was too strong and she had been tempted in before she could get cold feet.

       
After only half an hour or so, he heard a thumping down the stairwell indicating the front door being slammed. Had he not divined that she had got lucky, Connie made sure that Avery knew she was not returning alone by talking loudly, her voice travelling up the narrow stairs and slipping into the room, hardly muffled by the thin door.

“
It’s your lucky night, sir, my room is still warm from a fire.”

       
It was true, Avery had insisted that the woman light a small fire before she left, promising to replace her meagre coal supply twice over. The room was not overly cold but it did not lend itself to nudity and that was part of what Avery was paying for. He pulled himself into the wardrobe and drew the door ajar leaving an inch crack through which he could see the bed clearly. A few moments later, the sound of Connie’s voice nervously announced herself to the empty room.

“
Here we are, sir, this is it. My room. Nobody but you and I.”

       
Avery closed his eyes at the lack of subtlety of the woman but the strangeness of the woman announcing her arrival into her own room was lost on her companion. The sound of the door closing and then a man’s voice followed.