In The Fog of London

The Fugitive

The thorns, the facade, the blood on the handle, the feeling of falling and the voice of the doctor followed by those cold hands around her throat-

Kathrine woke up in her bed. Her arms and hands ached, but at least the bruises on her knees had faded some. She got out of bed, methodically getting ready. It had been a month and a half since the murder of Sir Danvers Carew and it had gotten out in the papers that the murderer was none other than Edward Hyde. Utterson had been visiting her often, telling her of what he'd found out and who he'd spoken to. He told her that Henry had been worried, Mr. Guest had been making speculations (which he would not elaborate on), and overall, everyone was rather put on edge because of this whole mess. However, the most relieving thing he'd shared, was that Hyde had fled. Completely disappeared, in fact, and had not made an appearance since the brutal slaying of the MP. Kathrine had been deep-cleaning her shop and her flat above it, as the murder had frightened her enough to keep the shop on a limited opening schedule. Since some time had passed, she decided to get back to her normal schedule, and made sure to open on-time that morning. It was overcast that day, and the gloom seemed to set the mood for the morning. Kathrine ruminated on her reoccurring dreams, unsure of their meaning. She hypothesized that their most likely cause was the traumatic meeting with Hyde and the dreams are merely a response to that. After thinking about it, she decided to read to get her mind away from those odd feeling associated with the encounter, and the feeling of dread she felt when she thought about how she could have been to blame for the tragedy.
As she read through her book about flowers, she heard the bell above the door chime, and looked up. Standing in the doorway was a man dressed very handsomely, in a hat and suit and cape. No carriage was outside, so he must've walked, but she couldn't see his face for a moment, as he was in the process of doffing his hat. When his face was visible, she realized it was Dr. Henry Jekyll. She rose quickly from her seat behind the counter and couldn't help but smile. "What a pleasant surprise!" She exclaimed, walking out from her station, "Henry, it's so good to see you!" She curtsied to him and he dipped his head slightly with a chuckle. "And you, Miss Kathrine. I was just on a walk and happened to be nearby, so I decided I'd pay you a visit! What a lovely little shop you have here." She thanked him and took his cape and hat, hanging them on a coat rack at the end of the counter. "I must ask, how have you been holding up since... You know." She asked, walking beside Henry as he strolled into a nook that had primarily chemistry and medical books. He cleared his throat and stared at the floor for a moment, collecting himself before addressing the young lady. "I've been as well as one can be in a situation like this. I hardly knew the man, but it's certainly an awful, awful thing. I'd... Rather not talk about it, if that's alright." Kathrine nodded and sorted a few books, noticing they weren't in alphabetical order. "I understand. I won't prod you anymore on it. Aside from that, how are you personally? Feeling well?" She asked instead. Henry responded better to this line of questioning and spoke openly about his home life, how he was "improving himself" by getting more sleep and actually eating, and how he had recovered well from the debacle. He told her about her he'd taken to reading the scriptures, going for walks, enjoying life more than he had before, since he'd been faced with the reality of mortality. "Poole and the others welcome the change. Neither them, my friends, nor yourself, need to worry. I have been feeling much better." He sighed, sitting at a small bench. Kathrine smiled and sat beside him, "Well that's a delight to hear! Perhaps you'll think about visiting me on those walks more often? It's such a treat spending time with you." She murmured sweetly, looking at her bandaged fingers. She could see the doctor looking at her in her peripheral, his face so kind and his cheeks slightly reddening. He looked down at her hands, noting that one of the bandages was missing. "The feeling is mutual, Kathrine. I'll make it a point to stop by, perhaps with a roll of bandages for you. I'm impressed you kept nine of them on for this long. How'd you lose the tenth?" He asked, turning to her. "Oh, it came off while I was scrubbing up my stove a few nights ago. I was working myself a little hard, trying to get the news off of my mind and it slipped off. I haven't picked at it though, see?" She felt pride rising within her as she showed off her slightly-grown-out nail. "Well done! I'm happy to see you're making progress!" He chortled, "I'll be sure to tell Utterson that you're finally kicking your habit." He added half-jokingly. Kathrine laughed too, finding their happiness brought on by a sort of rejuvenation of the spirit. They shared more tidbits of their daily lives, blessings, and hobbies, before there was a short pause in between their speech. "May I tell you something without alarming you..?" Kathrine suddenly spoke softly, looking up at Henry, who leaned a little closer. "What is it?" He asked in a whisper, searching her face with those stunning stormy eyes that nearly matched the gloom outside. Her heart beat a little faster and her ears burned due to his closeness to her, but she carried on, ignoring the fluttering in her gut. "I know we agreed to drop the subject... But I can't help but feel somewhat responsible... F-for what happened, I mean." She breathed, staring away from the doctor and fiddling with her skirt, picking lint off of the faded burgundy fabric. Henry took a deep breath and exhaled, pressing his lips together for a moment before speaking. "What do you mean by that, Kathrine?" She looked back up at him and saw the blush had faded from his cheeks and he looked ill at ease. "A-as you know, I went to the house in Soho that night. That man-thing, whatever he is... He had a bit of a tantrum a-and I struck him. He stormed out after that and I think that's when he, well, I won't say more." She explained gravely. It was Henry's turn to look away then. He brought a hand to his face and drummed his middle and forefinger against his chin in an expression of thought. "I see." Was all he said as his mind churned, recounting the memories from that night. "If that man should come to my shop again, I don't know what I should do." Kathrine whispered mostly to herself. Henry's eyes scrolled over to stare at her after she'd said that. If that fugitive should arrive, he thought, I fear you may have no choice but to bid him entry, as 'no' will not be taken for an answer.
The two only spoke for a little longer after that about books and work and typical things, though Henry Jekyll had not dug deeper into the statements she had made. After they had left their conversation on a lighter note, He collected his things and bid her adieu, walking out of the front door after thanking her for her kindness and promising to return. As the doctor walked down the street back toward Leicester Square, his mind whirled with a tempest of feelings and notions. Does she know? He asked himself pensively, She can't know, it's impossible for her to come to such a conclusion. Her mind is still so young and fresh and... Uncorrupted. He felt a pain in his head, but ignored the headache as it formed. She has no concept of such things as this. Such dark things probably never even cross her mind. He hastened his step, suddenly filled with an amoral desire that stirred up such a visceral fear as to force him to flee from out of the sight of the public and into his home. He had to get home. He must. I can't stop him from pursuing her, just like I can't stop myself from- He tripped over an uneven stone in the sidewalk, his thoughts scattered like leaves blown out of a pile by a strong breeze. I can't keep going on like this. I can't keep running away. I've been doing so well, why haven't I had a moments peace of mind? Henry nearly ran Into a woman walking out of a flower shop. What have I done to myself? What have I done?? He caught the scent of Gardenias on the wind and thought of her. What could I do to make her see. He set his jaw and ground his teeth. The pain was nearly unbearable.

How do I tell her that the two of us will never be free?