Willing Read Online Free PDF Page B

Sal. Listen to bloody reason!”
    But she was gone, her sandy blonde hair flying high above her head outside the window. Berty spun around from the door, her skirts swirling about her wide hips, and glared at the crowd, all gathered on the staircase and the upper landing. Her wild blue eyes darted from face to face, searching. She met Constance’s gaze for an instant, and turned, much as she had for the past month, as though unwilling to look her in the eye.
    “You! Hilda.”
    “Yes, Miss Berty?”
    “You’ll be taking the ass work from here on.”
    “What?!”
    Many of the girls burst into laughter.
    “But I ain’t done it half as much as Sally. And she had twice the ass I’ve got.”
    Constance turned from the bustle and headed back down the hall to her room. Despite the weeks that passed since her new room assignment, Constance still hadn’t wholly moved in. She was sure any moment Berty would appear at her door, red in the face, demanding to know who the hell she thought she was sleeping in the nicest room in the place – the Madam’s room. Yet, each time Constance had tried to discuss the change in living arrangements, Berty waved her off, hardly meeting her eye for more than a second. Constance’s things were still tucked away in her bag, hidden just under the bed for quick retrieval if the need arose.
    Constance sat down in front of her vanity, tucking the wisps of dark curly hair up and pinning them into place. She hadn’t the time to do it properly, given the ruckus that called from downstairs.
    Constance was on her third pin when Berty barreled in through the open door.
    “Foul girl. I swear to you, Connie, these girls are a bunch of mindless -”
    Constance turned, startled by the company. Though she and Berty could get along rather well, the past month had been strangely terse. Yet, here she was pacing the breadth of her former bed chamber, her hips bumping into Constance’s shoulder each time she passed.
    “What I wouldn’t give to have a house full ‘a girls like you.”
    Constance furrowed her brow. “Like me how?”
    “With a lick of sense, girl! Frank Coogan? Of all the pricks, she’s going to work for Coogan? Bastard makes all his girls do ass work! She’ll find no favor there!”
    Constance turned in her chair to watch Berty pace, giving her full attention. Berty continued to fume, much of the words lost on Constance. Finally, Berty threw her hands up. “You know that prick lost two girls to Jack so far?!”
    She stopped, staring at Constance as though she’d insulted her mother. Constance frowned at her, reaching for her hand. Berty slumped down onto the side of the bed.
    “It was almost a year ago. Last time the detectives came in, they said the bastard was more than likely done, ae?”
    “Aye, but the streets ain’t any safer for girls like us now, are they?”
    Constance glanced around the room where she now saw her loyal clientele; red sashes and drapes, four poster bed, fabric wallpaper that wasn’t peeling at every seam. However temporary her current circumstances, she was sure there wasn’t another whore in the city of London working in better conditions. Still, even in her old room, Constance knew she had it made. The rooms were warm in the winter, not too hot in summer. There was food and drink downstairs, and the roof only leaked during long stints of rain. Berty had to turn a good number of girls looking for work away over the years, because she hadn’t the room. Any working girl in London would love to claim a room in Berty’s household. Constance had been unfortunately lucky enough to stumble into it, herself.
    “She’s a big girl. She has to make her own decisions.”
    “Aye, but she hasn’t the wits to make any good ones.”
    Constance smiled. “One could ask whether any of us do.”
    Berty shot her a sad smile, and for the first time in a month, held her gaze without trouble. She paused. “I worry about you girls, you know that, right?”
    Constance