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Authors: Jean Fullerton

Tags: #Saga, #Historical Fiction

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BOOK: No Cure for Love
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‘That he is, missus.’ The young lad was hopping from side to side on nimble bare feet to see past the spectators. ‘I hopes as like ’e’s not a goner.’
A bottomless pit opened up under Ellen’s feet. I should have agreed to marry him, she thought bitterly. At least we could have had a brief time of love together. Now there was nothing, no memories and no future.
With her head spinning Ellen pushed through the press of people. She caught hold of the arm of one of the men tearing blackened ceiling beams away. He turned from his task and looked at her, his weary eyes red with the sting of smoke and his face smeared black.
‘Doctor Munroe,’ she said, her heart now galloping uncontrollably in her chest. ‘Is he...?’
‘Doctor Munroe, God bless him, must have had the Angel Gabriel himself watching over him this afternoon, because I saw the doctor myself, black and singed, making his way to Wapping Police Station with the beat constable.’
Robert Munroe was alive. Ellen stumbled back clutching her chest. A wail went up from the crowd of women as another body was brought out. This one, from its size, clearly a child.
‘How did it start?’ she asked, as the man wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm.
‘It started in the dispensary and then swept through the houses either side before anyone could stop it.’ He stood back as a beam crashed to the ground from the upper floor. ‘I heard that something was thrown through the window, an oil lamp I expect, by the look of this.’ He kicked a beam with his toe and a puff of ash rose from it. ‘And the doctor’s rooms went up like a powder keg, what with the spirit and stuff in there.’
Behind Ellen two bodies, contorted and almost unrecognisable as human beings, were being brought out. As she looked down at the two lifeless forms, the full horror of what had happened dawned on her. Robert was alive, but these poor souls and those carried out earlier weren’t. Lifting her head, she gazed up at the walls of the three buildings. Both houses were three-storey lodgings with families in almost every room. How many people had died? Standing with her arms limp at her sides, Ellen saw men struggling to release two other doomed wretches from under a fallen beam.
As an icy chill ran the length of her spine Ellen knew that, although Hennessey was likely to have started the fire, it was Danny Donovan behind the deed.
 
With a hot meal and three brandies in his stomach Robert was beginning to feel better. He folded his silk dressing gown around him and prodded the logs on the fire with a poker. A few sparks illuminated the room for a second, then returned it to its soft, warm glow. Robert had set the lamps to low. He was warm and smoke-free after a soak in the hot tub and his hair was now clean, but still damp at the edges. He had put his trousers back on, but hadn’t bothered with his shirt.
He had spent three hours in the Wapping Police Station with Inspector Jackson, giving an account of the disastrous events. In one respect, the fire at the dispensary might have brought Jackson a little nearer to getting that hard evidence, because Brian Hennessey had been apprehended a mile away with lamp oil spilled down his clothes. According to Jackson, when the draymen caught him, Hennessey was fighting drunk. They would have to wait until he sobered up before they could question him fully. Given the enormity of the criminal charges that awaited him, Jackson was hopeful that he might turn king’s evidence.
Settled in his leather chair by the fire Robert took another sip of warm brandy and thought of Ellen. She was his only thought when he desperately threw himself through the glass window of the dispensary and he had thought of her on and off for the rest of the day. He desperately wanted to see her and hold her - and he was still determined to marry her. But now, after coming so close to death, Robert wanted to live with Ellen, however that might be. First thing in the morning he would go to her.
The fire... A wave of sadness swept over him. He would organise a sum of money to be sent to Thomas’s widowed mother in Shoreditch. But there had been not only Thomas, but the Chambers, the Harrises, the Moodys, and the other families who lived in the lodging houses on either side of his rooms - houses now just charred ruins. As a doctor he had seen many terrible things, but the sight of people desperately trying to escape through windows as the fire consumed them would haunt him for the rest of his days.
Letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes and thought of tomorrow. He would ask, nay, beg, Ellen to be his wife, but if she said no this time he would forget his principles and love her as she asked.
There was a faint knock on the door. Thinking it was Bulmer, Robert kept his eyes closed and called ‘Enter’. He heard the door open and close then nothing. He opened his eyes.
Standing in the soft light of the dimmed lamp was Ellen. She was dressed in the same light-green dress in which he had first seen her, with a warm coat over it. Her hair was covered with her shawl, which obscured the lower part of her face, but it was her eyes that caught his heart. They stared at him with love brimming out of their dark-green depths. He rose slowly from the chair, his gaze taking in every last detail of her as she stood in his room.
They stared at each other for a second, then Robert reached out his hand. She shrugged off her shawl and coat as she came towards him, throwing herself into his embrace.
‘Thank God,’ she said, sobbing into his chest. Robert let his arms encircle her, pulling her close to him.
His large hand held her head tenderly as he kissed her hair over and over again. ‘It’s all right, my love. How did you get in?’ he asked, not quite believing that she was actually in his arms.
‘I caught Bulmer at the back door and told him I needed to see you.’ She looked up at him with an amused smile on her face. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure he is discreet.’
‘I don’t give a damn if he is or isn’t, I am not ashamed of you or my love for you,’ he said.
She didn’t answer, just hugged him to her. ‘When I saw your dispensary and thought you were dead in that rubble, I didn’t want to live, Robert, not without you,’ she said, tilting her face up towards his.
Her words spread though him, warming him with love as he gazed down into her beautiful face. He smiled at her. ‘I love you so much.’
‘I love you,’ she said breathlessly, her arms sliding around him and holding him close.
‘Then marry me,’ he begged, her closeness beginning to interfere with his thought processes.
She shook her head, a small regretful smile on her lips. ‘Make love to me, Robert,’ she answered, as her small hand reached around the back of his neck and pulled him to her.
‘Please, Ellen,’ he begged.
Again the small shake of her head. ‘Robert, I want you,’ she answered as her lips parted in readiness for his kiss.
Robert’s senses were swamped with Ellen against him, imploring him to make love to her. He had fought with all the strength he could muster and he would win the war to make Ellen his wife, but for now he had to concede this battle to her. He was only a man and with the woman who held his heart begging him to make love to her, Robert had neither the will nor the inclination to fight any longer.
 
Ellen lay for a long while listening to Robert breathe. Behind the heavy drapes at the window the clock of St Mary’s chimed twelve.
She had awakened just a few moments ago, wondering where she was, then snuggled back into Robert’s warm body as she remembered. His arm had slid possessively around her in his sleep and remained there, his hand relaxed on her hip. She shifted up onto one elbow and gazed down at him in the dim light. He stirred as she moved, but did not wake.
Ellen knew that she would have to leave soon, but not quite yet. She wanted to watch the man she loved as he slept.
He was lying on his back, the arm furthest away from Ellen behind his head. He had kicked the covers down and they now barely covered his hips. Ellen casually studied him in the half light. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought his profession was that of a labourer, not a doctor, as his physique was like one that had been honed by hard manual work. His broad chest was covered with a thick mass of hair that tapered down the centre of his stomach only to spread again as it travelled below his navel.
Her gaze wandered back to Robert’s profile and to the night-time bristle now clearly visible across his cheek and over his chin. She lightly rested her hand on the delicate skin at the top of her breasts where those bristles had scraped her skin as Robert covered her with hot kisses...
Later, Ellen told herself, although the temptation to wake Robert now and make love to him nearly overwhelmed her. Her hand reached out and she rested it gently on his chest. His hand came back and covered it.
If you married Robert you wouldn’t have to leave,
a little voice inside her head said and for one brief moment Ellen allowed herself the luxury of imagining a world where she and Robert could be man and wife.
A tear caught her unexpectedly. There was no point wishing for the impossible, such a world didn’t exist. All they had was this moment, and any happiness they could snatch in the future.
A cart on its way to market rattled over the cobbled street outside and Robert started up. He blinked twice, then looked across at her, and his face relaxed. He pulled her into his arms and gazed down at her.
‘Marry me, Ellen,’ he said simply.
She gave him a bright smile. ‘You know I can’t.’
‘I know no such thing,’ he said, holding her tighter. ‘All I know is I can’t live without you and have no intention of doing so.’
Say yes, you fool!
her mind and emotions told her. For one split second the word hovered on her lips. It would be so easy. One little word. Turning away from her own happiness she gave him a sad smile and shook her head.
‘I won’t give up,’ he said fixing her with a penetrating look.
She struggled half-heartedly against him. ‘It’s just past midnight. I have to go,’ she said, trying to twist out of his arms. His hand slid up her leg, over her hip bone and up to her breast.
‘Not yet, Ellen, just an hour more.’ He pulled her to him and slid his leg over hers.
What could she say? How could she refuse? Reaching up, Ellen moved the lock of unruly hair off his forehead. Robert smiled and gathered her under him once again.
Sixteen
‘Doctor Munroe,’ Jackson said taking Robert’s hand in a firm grip and looking him in the eye.
Robert sat down again. ‘Any news?’
Jackson sat back and crossed one massive leg over the other. ‘Firstly, I am pleased to tell you that Hennessey has agreed to turn king’s evidence. He is faced with a charge of murder on twelve counts after his little escapade with the lamp.’
‘Twelve!’ Robert said, shocked at the enormity of it.
‘Yes, twelve, and three of them minors,’ Jackson said. ‘I’ll tell you, Hennessey’s looking at a hanging and no mistake. He maintains that he never intended to kill anyone, just to get back at you.’
‘That won’t be much comfort to Weaver’s mother,’ Robert said, thinking of the letter he had to write later.
‘No, indeed,’ Jackson agreed. ‘But at least we have him as a witness against Danny Donovan.’
‘Splendid,’ Robert said.
‘I wish it were that simple.’
‘Surely with Hennessey’s evidence you are now able to make a case against Donovan?’ Robert said, leaning forward. ‘The Emergency Committee is only just uncovering the extent of Donovan’s corruption. We have yet to get to the bottom of the accounts, but I know that the funds that should be going into the upkeep of the roads and drains are going straight into Donovan’s back pocket. I have also uncovered details of a number of other women who had to attend the hospital’s casual ward after a visit to Old Annie.’
Jackson sat back and shook his head. ‘It’s not enough. Danny Donovan might be a sadistic killer, a woman-hating pimp and an extortionist, but he is a clever one. Each time I have come close to linking him to a death or a burnt-out shop he slips through my fingers. Either he has got someone else, like Hennessey, to do his dirty work, or those who may have seen him perpetrate a crime or commit a murder are so afraid of his retribution that they won’t come forward to give evidence.’
‘But you have Hennessey,’ Robert said.
‘I have. But a good barrister,’ he gave Robert a weary look, ‘and, believe me Danny Donovan can afford the best, would demolish Hennessey’s credibility as a witness in a moment by pointing to his own criminal associations and calling into question his motive for naming Donovan. ’ Jackson forcefully slammed a clenched fist into the palm of his other hand. ‘What I need is firm evidence, in black and white, to link Donovan to his crimes. Then and only then will he be brought to justice. Although just to let you know that we have made some headway, between you and me, I will be paying Old Annie a visit soon.’
So many dead, Robert thought. He recalled the dying Kitty Henry, along with the lifeless face of Thomas, and the distraught mother at the lodging-house window. A steel band of fear suddenly gripped his heart as Ellen came into his mind. He wouldn’t put it past Danny to maim her for the sheer pleasure of it if he found out about their relationship.
‘You’re right, Inspector. Until Donovan is convicted for his crimes none of us can go about our business without looking over our shoulders,’ Robert said. ‘I have contacts in the Cabinet. I have been in correspondence with Lord Melbourne, the Home Secretary, and Lord Ashley. I will ask them to speak to the Lord Chancellor.’
Jackson’s mouth went into a tight line. ‘I appreciate your help, Munroe. But as I said before, what I want now is evidence, firm evidence, before any more innocents die because of Danny Donovan.’
 
Ellen sat in Robert’s leather chair, wearing his silk dressing gown and with her feet tucked beneath her. Her hair was unbound and hung about her like a shimmering cloak while her bare skin tingled against the warm fabric that enveloped her. Across the room the fire crackled in the grate, warming the room and causing shadows to dance upon the wall of the study, whose heavy drapes were closed against the world outside. She sipped the sweet chocolate in the cup she held in her hand and watched Robert over the brim as he sat writing at his desk.
BOOK: No Cure for Love
7.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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