In Darkest London

Chapter 11 ~ {Slumming it}

Stella led the way through the dark labyrinth of narrow streets and alleyways. Each turn taking her down another cobbled path that seemed identical to the one before it. For a moment, Chastity wondered if they were running in circles.

"Keep up," Stella warned, "and be wary of lurkers."

Chastity imagined what a lurker might look like. She pictured a lanky, grotesque figure waiting to pounce from the camouflage of the shadows, with sharp filthy fingernails, and the stench of stale ale. A shiver ran down her spine as she fought the urge to look back, like a child fleeing from an imaginary monster. Chastity instinctively reached out and clung onto Stella's sleeve. Stella stopped for a moment, her eyes scanned the darkness.

"I think we've lost 'em."

"Why were they - ?" Chastity caught her breath.

"Damned if I know. Bleedin' Mutton Shunter's ..." Stella lifted her arm to scratch her neck, forcing Chastity's hand to drop. "You'd think they'd have better things to do, what with everything else goin' on in these streets." She said, clearing her throat.

Chastity looked around. She had no idea where she had ended up but, could tell by the dense blackness hanging in the air, that it was getting very late. Her father had no doubt discovered the note by now. She had left it hung around Adelia's neck before tearfully yanking the wind-up mechanism out of her back. She felt a pang of guilt in her stomach, and a strong sense of melancholy. Adelia had always been good to her. She was not just an automaton Nanny, but a mother figure, a friend. But she was programmed to her father's instruction and Chastity could never get away with anything as a child due to Adelia's prying eyes, so she couldn't have risked it.

"I'm sorry, but ... you said you could help? ... with lodgings?"

"Yes, I did." Stella grinned. "I'll put you up for the night."

"No, really I couldn't," Chastity blushed, "If you'll just be so kind as to point me in the right direction of some respectable lodgings -."

"Now listen 'ere," Stella interjected, "Incase you hadn't noticed, yer in the slums, there ain't nothing 'respectable' about it."

"But -."

Stella placed a firm grip on Chastity's arm. "My place isn't far, and you can't be hangin' around this area too long, not at this time o'night." She said as she started to walk, forcing Chastity to stride with her. "You don't know what trouble might find you."

Chastity halted. "Please." she said firmly. "Some lodging quarters will do."

"As you wish." Stella smirked as she let go of her arm. "Follow me."

***

Chastity heard the commotion as they approached the dwelling, but she wasn't prepared for the shocking sight that was waiting around the corner. She froze. Stella placed her hand on the small of Chastity's back, guiding her towards the crowd. As if in a trance, Chastity's legs matched Stella's rhythm. Before she knew it, she was amongst the swarm of men, women and children that gathered round the door waiting to be admitted. The wrangling of desperate men scrambling for a bed was pitiful. She thought of the likes of her father and Sir Lucian, with their pressed shirts and fresh linen and thought what unbearable shame these men must feel, unable to save their own from a life of destitution.

Her eyes darted from one pale face to the next. Studying each pair of sunken eyes, she wondered how many days of malnourishment had contributed to their gaunt-like appearance ... wondered if any of them had ever tasted a crumb of bread at all, especially the young. The cries of hungry, shivering children were haunting. To her left, a little girl of four or five was in the arms of her mother, screaming and writhing in pain. "There, there," her mother hushed, we'll get 'em looked at." Chastity swallowed a lump in her throat and dropped her gaze, she'd never wanted for anything growing up. She held the back of her hand to her mouth as she noticed the cause of the girl's cries; her blue shoeless feet, both very badly ulcerated with the cold. When she looked up the girl's eyes caught her own.

As the girl stared Chastity felt her cheeks flare, she was an impostor, and for the first time since entering the east end, she felt ashamed. Slumming was a fairly new phenomenon. She'd overheard some gentlemen talking about the craze at the Archery Society back in the west end; rich people seeking disrespectable amusements motivated by curiosity and thrill. She was curious and looking for excitement, but she wasn't looking for the same kind of thrill those men were, she was looking to strip herself back, find herself, escape.

The girl stopped crying as she stared at Chastity's perfectly protected feet. Chastity immediately stooped over and untied her shoes. Stepping out of them one by one, she felt the harsh sting of the cold cobbles under the soles of her bare feet. She handed her shoes to the little girl who snatched them right out of her hands before the brawling crowd came between them. Chastity desperately scanned the crowd for Stella, panicking like a child separated from her parents. People were pushing and shoving, Chastity got caught up in the tussle. She felt a knock to her ribs, lost her balance and hit the floor like a dead pigeon. She cowered there and touched her hand to her head in slow motion as the chaos of the crowd intensified. Her fingers felt warm and sticky against matted hair. She moved her hand level with her eyes, bottom lip quivering as she inspected the blood. Then all fell silent.

***

Chastity woke to a loud clunking noise, like the mechanical turn of steel. She looked up. The crowd had calmed to a still silence. Each statue-like person faced the same way, each neck craned to the same spot.

'Dong!, dong!, dong!' ...

The noise startled Chastity. She felt the urge to touch her head and grimaced as the sound hurt her ears and intensified the pain. She struggled to stand hoping to get a better look at what everyone was staring at. But once she found her feet, Chastity wondered if the knock to her head had affected her vision, for she could see nothing but two heavy-ironed open gates fixed to the wall of the old building ahead; a dead end.

Still, the people stared until a final 'dong!' sounded. As it did one of the stone bricks pushed out from its place high up in the wall and plummeted to the street below. A metallic owl made up entirely of working cogs and gears appeared holding something in its rusty beak. A long scroll with the word 'Vacancies', written vertically in calligraphic black ink, unravelled down the length of the wall. Then, more bricks fell, revealing a seven foot iron maiden turnstile entrance. The crowd roared and turned on each other once again as they scrambled for a bed for the night. Mothers and fathers lifted and forced their children to the front, urging them to get to the gate as if it were the last seat on a lifeboat. Many fell to the cobbles and were crushed in the process. For the lucky ones, loud clanking of metal sounded with each successful admission. For those in the middle, the suffocation was unbearable.

Chastity struggled to keep her balance and fell again. People kicked and trampled over her. She eyed her surroundings looking for an escape when she felt a strong tug on her arm lifting her back to her feet. Stella!

"Well, this is it ..." Stella said, tightening her grip and keeping Chastity close. "If you're lucky enough to make it through the turnstile you'll have some horse-muck-covered hay to lay your head on and enough bodies to keep yer warm. They pack 'em in those places like bleedin' sardines."

Chastity shuddered.

"...Or," Stella smirked, "You can take me up on my offer and let me give you somewhere half decent to rest yer'self ..." She raised her eyebrows, "What'll it be?"