Page 19 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘Perfectly proper, as I said before. You do make a very passable young man, though I would like to see you as a woman as well.’

‘I’m sure I could manage that,’ Jenny said. ‘I have engagements over the next few days, but I could meet you for a walk or to take tea. Or you could even come to my house,’ she added impulsively. Uncle Conrad would finally have proof of the existence of her friend.

‘Tea would be nice,’ Miriam said. ‘Here, this way.’

It was still bitterly cold, and the fog had come in. Men strode purposefully, heads down and hunched over in their attempt to keep warm, but rather than hurry, the two women strolled along the side of the canal back towards the tunnel. Miriam stopped opposite a four-storey house on a small crescent and pointed to the top floor.

‘That’s where I live. It isn’t much to look at from the outside, and not much on the inside either, if I’m being perfectly honest. But it’s cheap and warm and the landlord doesn’t come into our rooms without knocking first.’

‘You live there alone,’ Jenny asked, peering through the gloom at the double-fronted building. The curtains must be thin because the faint outline of lights glowed invitingly through the windows on two of the floors.

‘I do. I had a roommate for a while. But things didn’t work out. She and I parted company not long ago.’

Miriam’s expression grew brittle under the streetlamp, and Jenny remembered the blonde woman who had collided with her. She found herself wondering what the nature of their relationship might have been, considering the overtures that Miriam had made to her. Whatever doubts were assailing Jenny with regard to the burgeoning feelings of desire, Miriam clearly had no such reservations. It wasn’t that she seemed to be unaware of their mutual fascination, which pulsed in the air, but that she was at ease with the fact of its existence. And that attraction between two women was unexceptional and not perverse.

‘Well, better your independence than having to live with someone you didn’t get on with,’ she said.

‘Exactly my thoughts,’ Miriam said, her eyes becoming warmer. ‘Now I have enough room to devote to my art. It’s rather messy, but you’re welcome to come and visit me whenever you like. I’m in between teaching positions at the moment because my last family upped and decamped to theFrench Riviera for the winter, the lucky things.’

They faced each other in the middle of the pavement. Neither seemed keen to be the first to leave, but as the sound of an omnibus grew closer Jenny reluctantly took a step back.

‘I need to go. I’ll see you again very soon, I promise.’

Miriam nodded. She took Jenny by the hand and squeezed it tightly.

‘Goodbye, Jenny.’

‘Goodbye, Mim.’ Impulsively, Jenny leant forward and embraced her, then tore herself away before her heart began to drum too violently, walking in the direction of Islington, with her hands in her pockets. She turned back at the corner to see that Miriam had crossed the street but was still standing in the doorway of the boarding house. Bubbles of excitement rose inside Jenny and she practically skipped back home, completely forgetting her disguise.

Chapter Seven

‘Are you going out again?’ Archibald scowled upon noticing that Gwen had her coat on and was pinning her hat firmly into her rolls of hair.

‘I haven’t been out all week, apart from going shopping,’ Gwen said mildly. She felt for the bottle in her pocket. A new batch of the tincture, ready to be sold to Miss Rosewood’s rich acquaintances today. The inaugural meeting of Miss Rosewood’ssalonwas a welcome relief from the dullness of everyday life, and the money would go into her shell box to help speed Archibald’s operation.

Archibald put down the magnifying glass he now used to read and gave another scowl.

‘I suppose you’re going out spending more money now? Are you determined to deprive me of every penny I need to pay the surgeon?’

Gwen drew a sharp breath at the unfairness of his accusation. The January weather was vile, with almost constant sleet that made the barely light daytime seem shorter than ever, and Archibald’s temper had become more changeable. SinceChristmas had passed, he would lapse into silence, staring at the fireplace for hours on end before abruptly snapping at Gwen if she interrupted whatever thoughts he was having.

She’d walked further afield in driving rain (which had resulted in wet feet) to buy the weekly meat from a cheaper butcher, but there was no point in telling Archibald that.

‘I’m visiting Miss Rosewood. I won’t be spending any money as I’ll walk there. There’s a stew in the oven and I’ve put the peppermint and capsicum to macerate in the ether and chloroform. I’ll be back in time to make a pot of tea before dinner.’

His face took on an expression of self-pity. ‘Then I shall sit alone and contemplate the bane of my existence. Give my regards to Mr Rosewood.’

‘Why don’t you pay him a call soon? I’m sure he’d be glad to see you,’ Gwen suggested.

‘Why don’t I just declare my blindness from the rooftops?’ Archibald snarled. ‘Then I could speed the inevitable moment when he throws us onto the streets. No, you go and enjoy yourself.’

Gwen buttoned her gloves then walked over to give him a kiss goodbye, but he turned his head from her abruptly as she approached and she was left feeling foolish. She backed away and left, unsettled by the extent to which their warmth had deteriorated.

Christmas had come and gone with still no word from Archie. Gwen didn’t know whether Christmas cards were common in Saint Helena, but she had not received one. Now it appeared that her husband was spurning her affection, too. She didn’t think she had done anything to warrant it, but perhaps she was wrong.

The Januarysalonhad four attendees, which was promising, but only two of the four had attended the first time. Mrs McAllister and Mrs Dowson the curate’s wife, were there,however Mrs Browne, the young mother and Mrs Casper were not. For returning customers, only half the originals was not a great advertisement for the product, though Mrs Casper had apparently sent her apologies to Jenny and sworn to attend when she could.

Miss Rosewood introduced Gwen to Mrs Verne– who was Mrs McAllister’s sister-in-law– and Miss Salisbury, who, she explained, was an acquaintance of Mr Rosewood. Mrs Verne was a cheerful redhead, but Miss Salisbury was a formidable-looking woman. Gwen estimated she had probably bidden farewell to fifty a few years previously, but she had a wonderful mass of chestnut hair piled high in curls and rolls and wore a cream blouse with elaborate lace covering the front in ruffles that looked very expensive.