Entry #569750, added on 02-24-08 @ 2:15 pm EST
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| Chapter Thirty | Entry #569750 |
In his usual booth slumped the inebriated figure of Henry; his wounds freshly dressed yet already filthy with grime and spilt ale. The trauma caused by the knife wound had been extensive enough to cause him to wince when pressure was applied, yet it had not completely incapacitated him. The alcohol helped with the pain, and the crutch he had stolen from the hospital aided his movement. Now he sat six beers into the evening and agitated. His fuming thirst for revenge against Silas had been slightly sated by the attack of this stranger. Obviously the man had some form of business with Mason and he hoped it spelt trouble for him. That thought alone brought a smile to his weary face.
From across the room Henry caught a glimpse of Bess. The young girl had been watching him all evening from behind her older sisters protective form. Once his eyes fell to her, she shied away, hiding her still bruised face from his vision. Sensing Bess’s movement Jane also caught Henry’s gaze and at once pushed Bess further from sight. She stood bolt upright and defiantly stared back at Henry whom turned back to his beer.
"That’s right you bastard! Look the other way! Your brother like fucking beating up women! Make him feel good did it?”
“She ain’t no woman, she’s a whore.” Henry spoke into his glass, never turning back to the woman.
“Oi! You! I’m talking to you!” Jane stepped over the pile of coats lying on the floor that had been removed by the admiring clients that hung gluttonously around the prostitutes table of business. She strode over to Henry, still shouting.
“Have you seen her face you fucker! She’s beaten black and blue cause of him, that dirty bastard!”
Henry remained silent and took another sip of his beer. This angered the woman even more and she swung out her fist and knocked the pint glass from Henry’s grip, sending it to the table with a smash. In quick response the seemingly passive Henry shot to his feet whilst grabbing a random shard of broken glass, he lunged toward Jane and rammed the glass into her throat. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and slowly pushed the glass deeper into her jugular. Henry pressed his face close to hers and sticking out his beer stained tongue, licked her across the cheek.
At once screams erupted within the pub and people began to panic. Some ran to the flailing body of Jane as she fell to the ground, blood spurting from her neck, others made a quick route for the exit.
A couple of men that had watched the whole event tackled Henry but despite his drunken state he soon evaded them and made his way out into the streets. The pain from the barrage of punches he had received hardly even registering. As he stumbled down an alley away from the commotion he could already hear the distinct screech of a police whistle indicating the disturbance. Henry continued to struggle without the use of his crutch that was still in the pub, he didn’t even need to look behind him to know that he was already being followed.
A strong wind had crept in across the Thames and it carried with it the rank odour of silage. Robert Jennings stepped down from his carriage outside his four storey town house, and pulled the collar of his coat up around his face to mask the stench. The carriage slowly pulled away and the Superintendent began to climb the stairs that led from the street to his large pillared porch way and grand front door. His eyes lingered upon the unusual amount of lit windows on the front of his property. Jennings’ mind began to search for any inklings of rationale, but when he eventually came to open his door he was met by the smiling face of Dr. Burns, his family physician. The doctor was putting on a large overcoat ready to once again brave the dark London streets.
“Ahh Robert. Good to see you.”
“George? What’s wrong? Why are you here?”
“Well… actually I think I’ll leave Mary to explain everything.”
Jennings face froze and he stared almost vacantly at the doctor as if trying to read his mind. Then his gaze darted around the porch searching for his wife.
“Mary! Mary!”
Dr. Burns fastened the last button of his coat and picked up his surgical bag before edging past Jennings and out of the house. “Don’t hesitate to call me Robert if you need anything, like last time.” The doctor paused expecting some reaction from Jennings but getting none. “Well anyway, I had best be off.”
These words drifted unnoticed into the night as Jennings marched into the main hallway of the house and began to look for Mary.
The house was bathed in a low dim light that was carried by the many gas lamps that staggered the halls.
“Mary!” Jennings continued to shout out for his wife.
After darting into all the rooms along the way Jennings finally climbed the stairs to the first floor and then to the second. Once on the landing Jennings could see his wife and young son. They stood together outside of Marie’s bedroom. Mary held Thomas close to her.
“Mary what in Gods name is going on?”
“Robert, now try to stay calm…”
“I swear Mary if you don’t tell me I will swing for you!”
Jennings approached his wife, then seeing the fear in her eyes, he turned to the open door of his daughter and then strode in. Inside, the room was dark, the only light coming from the open fire that burned in the bedroom hearth. All the curtains were pulled tightly shut and no lamps were lit. Marie sat in a chair in the corner of the room. She was crying, and seeing her father stand before her she trembled and held herself tight.
“Marie?” Jennings spoke with a firm yet slightly cautious tone, uncertainty still present in his voice. Marie did not answer.
“Robert…she’s pregnant.”
The expression on Jennings’ face did not alter. He stood motionless staring at his daughter.
“Robert, Dr. Burns has already said he can do the termination for us. I said I needed to talk to you first just to make sure that was what you wanted again…”
Jennings unbuttoned his coat and dropped it to the floor, he then began to unbutton his shirt cuffs.
“Robert did you hear me? Are you listening? If that’s what you want then I can arrange for George to come back tomorrow. He said he could have done it tonight but he didn’t bring the equipment he needs with him…Robert!”
Jennings rolled up his shirt sleeves and walked back to the bedroom door. He looked Mary in the eyes but said nothing.
“Robert, George said he can sort this for us, just like last time. No-one will ever know.”
“There is no need to bother Dr. Burns with our problems. Not this time.”
“But Robert what do you mean? We can’t surely keep the baby? If people ever knew, they would hang you!”
Jennings grabbed the handle of the bedroom door and slowly pushed it shut, leaving his wife and son outside.
“I will sort it.”
Mary’s eyes opened wide as the meaning of her husbands words registered in her brain.
“NOOOOO!!! Robert!!!” She ran to the door and began thumping and kicking at it in frantic desperation, but Jennings had locked it shut.
Marie watched as her father wandered over to the fireplace. He warmed his hands in its fiery glow before reaching down to a large iron poker that hung from the wall. He squeezed it in his grip and pushed it into the burning red throb of the crackling coals. He twisted the poker deep into the fires heart and then without even turning his head he spoke to Marie.
“My sweet dear daughter. My sweet dear whore of a daughter.”
Marie turned her head away and pulled her knees up to her chin. She did not reply.
“All of the things I have done for you, all the love I have shown you and this is how you repay me?”
There was still no reply.
“I have loved you like no other, and you try to spoil it. I have always told you that what happens in this family stays in this family, and that if ever our secrets were known you would regret it. Well despite my warnings you disappoint me yet again. I thought you would have learnt after last time. But obviously you haven’t.”
Jennings pulled the poker from the fire and held it up before his face. He blew upon it making the end glow brightly. He then walked over to Marie and grabbed her by the hair. She began to cry out loud and kick viciously at her fathers actions. She grabbed his hand and dug her nails deep into him as she tried to loosen his grip upon her. But he easily overpowered her and dragged her from the chair and pulled her over to the bed.
“I gave you my love, even when you didn’t deserve love at all. I touched you and made you happy, treated you like a woman. Loved you like a woman wants to be loved… needs to be loved, and you insult me by becoming pregnant.”
Jennings pushed his daughter down upon the bed and still holding firmly to her hair, he pressed one of his knees upon her stomach, pinning her down. Marie’s screams were piercing the air and briefly letting go of her hair, Jennings grabbed a pillow and covered her face. He pushed down upon the pillow to muffle the cries. With his other hand he placed the poker upon the bed and reached forward to grasp Marie’s petticoat. He quickly lifted it back to reveal her pale scarred legs and thighs. She struggled against his weight upon her, but Marie already knew her plight was futile. Jennings ran his fingers along her thighs and up towards her crotch. He lingered over her vagina and ever so delicately pushed his forefinger into her. Marie continued to wriggle and squirm, she kicked out but the weight of her father upon her chest was leaving her breathless and her struggles became weak. Jennings moved his hand from his daughter and grabbed the handle of the poker again. The red hot tip had already begun to burn through the bed linen that it had laid upon, but the scorch was not significant enough to light. Jennings held up the poker and again blew upon the end making it burn brightly. He turned to the shaking form of his daughter and as he himself began to shake through a mixture of anger and nerves, he tightened his grip upon the iron poker and then rammed it in between her thighs.
The screams from Marie’s bedroom echoed throughout the old town house, filling the halls and corridors. Every room was witness to her pain. Her screams for mercy were only matched by those of her mother as she sat helpless upon the floor outside her daughters bedroom. Young Thomas had run away long ago, and continued to do so out of the house and down the same dark streets that Jennings had arrived by not ten minutes previously. Tears blurred his vision as he staggered and stumbled from the curb to the street then back up the curb and then into the wall of a building. Thomas fell to the ground disorientated and in a state of panic. He lay shaking amongst the filth and grime only to be quietened by the hand of a stranger as it tightened upon his mouth. Thomas started to flail his arms and legs to escape this man, but was instantly overpowered.
“Shhh, Shhh little man.” The stranger said in a calm reassuring voice. “You need to be quiet my friend so’s we don’t raise suspicion.”
Thomas continued to struggle, but as the events of the evening took hold of his mind, the struggles turned to shivers and Thomas began to cry. The Man released his grip around the boys mouth and the young child buried his face into the mans chest. Quite taken aback by this action, the man hesitantly wrapped an arm around the small boy and hugged him.
“There, there boy, seems we’ve both had a night of it.”
The man huddled the boy close and returned to the shadows from which he had been hiding. He pulled close some crates and dragged the tarpaulin back over himself and once again he was invisible to the world outside.
“You’re safe now boy, we can both hide here for now. Don’t you worry a jot.”
The boy was weeping uncontrollably and looked up at the man.
“What be your name son?”
“Thomas sir.” The boy replied through shivering lips and tears, before returning his head into the chest of the man.
“Thomas that’s a nice name. I used to have a brother called Thomas.” The man took a deep sigh as memories flickered in his mind. “My names Henry, you’re safe now my lad.” |
© Copyright 2008 ReflectingeyE (UN: reflectingeye at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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