WhiteChapel

Chapter 7: Harp

I watched the two men as they walked to their cab then turned tugging at my waistcoat in a slightly nervous matter. That could have gone way worse, but that sketch isn't going to get them anywhere.

Walking into the dining room where the sickly girl sat at her empty plate, I once again pondered the decisions I will have to make concerning the girl. Should she stay here, I could use an extra set of hands cleaning the surgical equipment. Or I could be smart and send her off to a workhouse or some other type of institution. The latter she wouldn't live long, no young girl would. She may even resort to selling herself and become prey. I shook my head running my hand through my hair in exasperation.

“I want to offer you a permanent place to stay.” She looked up at me slowly, bewildered at the prospect it would seem, “If you stayed you would have warmth and comfort. Even a small position in my surgery, cleaning the equipment if you like. I’ll give you time to decide.”

My voice was cool and neutral, giving her a blank slate. I drank my coffee reading the paper, a servant came in hurriedly and whispered in my ear. There was a patient with a diseased limb that needed amputation.I sighed standing folding the newspaper and dropping it on the table.

“Please excuse me, I’m needed in surgery.”

As we rushed down to the operating theatre I undid my vest replacing it with an apron and rolling up my sleeves. I opened the double doors to the surgery and immediately stopped at a basin and washed up to my elbows.

I turned to the man groaning on the table grabbing a syringe and a glass bottle of anesthesia. I sedated him then cut his pant leg as others strapped him down and placed a tournacit on the leg. I then began the horrendous process of sawing off the leg.

Quite the bloody process but I did it quickly and closed up the wound as best I could and wrapped the wound. I washed and changed then went back to find the girl in the library.