Chapter 2

Mary Jeanette Kelly sighed over her tumbler of gin. The Ten Bells pub was nearly full to capacity with people she knew by sight, but none of her friends had arrived yet tonight. A mouthful of her drink took her mind off that fact for a moment, shutting her eyes and focusing on the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

"Mary!" a shrill, young female voice sang.

Eyes flying open, Mary beamed. "Anne! There you are. Bless you. And you brought the baby, oh isn't she precious," she extended a finger to stroke the infant's cheek.

"I don't want to keep Alice here for long," Anne sounded rueful, "it's too loud in here. But I wanted to see you and the other girls. Where are they?"

"Hopefully not in trouble," Mary's eyes fixed on her tumbler again. "You know how it is Anne. It's not safe out there, but what can we do. I hope you know just how blessed you are, love, having Albert to take care of you."

"I do, Mary. And I'm thankful for him every day. He's back in town now, so I'll be spending the evening in."

Mary smiled up at her friend. "You have fun, lovie. And give Albert my regards. Maybe you can catch up with me again tomorrow and the others will be here."

"I do hope," Anne slipped a coin out from a pocket on her gown, being careful not to disturb her child as she did so, and slipped it into Mary's hand.

"What's this for?"

"The Old Nichol Gang. If they cause trouble again."

Mary nodded knowingly, "Thank you."

The memory of the gang was a thing both of them disliked recalling. Mary was happy for Anne that the gang was something she'd no longer have to fret over, but also wished she could escape it, too. It was hard enough to make ends meet in Whitechapel without having to pay gang members for "protection".

"I'd best be leaving now, Mary," Anne sounded regretful, "better to take Alice home where it's quiet. You tell the others I'll see them tomorrow, please?"

Mary nodded and watched as Anne and her baby disappeared from Ten Bells. Her attention shifted to the large windows now, looking as far past the years worth of accumulated grime would allow her for any glimpse of her friends. She decided firmly to stay where she was until she was sure the girls were safe. Work could come later.

"Can I get you anything else love?" the bar keep offered.

"More gin." Mary answered after realizing her cup was now empty.

A fresh glass was put before her, and she lifted it to her lips greedily, reveling in the liquid and the sensation of it settling in her stomach. She knew she hadn't enough money for a proper meal, only for the gin. She bade her drink to mask her hunger pangs as she realized she would have to work sooner rather than later, if she were to have a hot meal tonight.

She'd no more resolved herself to that fact when there was a light tap on her shoulder. Spinning around in her seat to see who it was, she locked eyes with Elizabeth Stride, known to her friends as Long Liz. The tall brunette woman was of middle age, and missing her front teeth, though she hid it well.

"Got back safe and sound" Liz adjusted her bonnet. "Got some money for us. Sorry I was so long getting here, needed to wash up."

Mary didn't care to ask why. "Have you seen any of the others?"

"Yes," Liz pondered a moment, "Annie was over by the butcher, and Polly was near the church. I didn't see Kate, though."

"Alright, thank you Liz," Mary offered her friend the remainder of her gin. "You go back to mine when you're done here and rest. I'll be off to earn my keep."

Liz nodded, finishing off the gin greedily. "Be safe."

Mary patted Liz's shoulder before rising from her seat and heading for the door of the pub. She clenched her hand and took in a deep breath before pushing the door open, and exiting.

She walked with purpose towards her home, a tiny one room dwelling at 13 Miller's Court. It was all she could afford. Though her key was long lost and she had to access her door's lock by reaching inside a broken window to bolt and unbolt it, she was grateful for the place, for not needing to sleep in a Doss-house as many others in the area had to.

She unbolted the door and slipped inside to fetch her shawl. It may have been late July, but she still felt a chill late at night, so took the garment with her in preparation for the cold. She glanced around the room to see if anything was out of place. Nothing seemed to be, so shrugging to herself; she left, locking the door behind her. Liz would know how to get in.

The streets were dimly lit now; night's darkness was setting in. At nearly ever alley she passed the sounds of prostitutes earning their wages were easily heard. She rolled her eyes as she overheard one woman being particularly theatrical about her feigned pleasure.

She ended up at the steps of Christ Church, examining the neighborhood from this vantage point. She felt unsure of where she could seek clients. It seemed busier than usual this night, a fact that would've made Mary happy to just go home and sleep, except for the rumble in her stomach.