“I’ve seen Miss Allingham’s painting of her. She’s striking.”
Annie frowned. “That was Margot, all right, picking up her bowler. She was my roommate until a year ago and poses for the lady artists as well as for . . .” She turned away. “I often have a brew-up this time of the day. Will you take a cup, Doctor?”
“Thank you. I know Margot is a sought-after model. Is she a hatmaker as well?”
Annie shook her head. “She worked for Wheatlands’, running orders for girls who sew by the piece. Knows all the shop lasses along Bow Lane. But that was a year ago, now.”
While Annie spooned tea into the pot, Julia asked, “Do you miss her company?”
“’Tis quiet of an evening, I’ll say that. But she might be back.”
“Oh?”
Annie cocked her thumb over her shoulder. “Isn’t she paying rent on my back bedroom? ‘My insurance policy,’ says she. In case her fancy man tosses her out, I’m thinking.”
Annie sat, poured the tea, and fiddled with her teaspoon.
“The lady artists . . . they’re never asking me to do more than I’m willing. But Margot, now. She says I’m an eegit not to strip off for the men. Saying I’d get twice what I’m earning now.”
“That must be tempting.”
“That’s looking for trouble.”
Julia nodded. “You’re right to resist pressure. It often ends in regret when you don’t.”
“That one, she’s never one for regrets.”
Julia returned her cup to its saucer. “Annie . . .”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Your injuries. Are you sure you won’t speak to the police?”
“I slipped and fell. Let that be an end to it.”
A minute later, Annie stood and picked up their cups. Her hands shook slightly, the spoons rattling in the saucers as she carried the tea things to a washbowl. The doctor took the hint and gathered her gloves and medical bag.
Julia left certain that Annie O’Neill was hiding something—and that she was afraid.
CHAPTER7
Julia’s annoyance with Tennant lingered two weeks after the maze misadventure, but other pressing problems vied for attention.
For one thing, Julia’s private practice continued to languish, disappointing after her grandfather’s retirement. Most of his patients had transferred to her Uncle Max rather than sign on with her. Too many recalled the girl who played in her grandfather’s back garden. They couldn’t fathom the woman who’d placed first in her medical school class.
The police had called her in twice to examine women held under the Contagious Diseases Acts. Julia diagnosed one woman with a case of secondary-stage syphilis and left her with a tube of mercury ointment. The other was a widow and mother of three who showed no signs of the disease. Desperate and deprived of her male breadwinner, the woman had little choice but to take to the streets.
Julia believed that most readers ofThe TimesorThe Telegraphwould be surprised by the number of women who workedas occasional prostitutes. They sold themselves on weeks when taking in washing or doing piecework sewing didn’t cover the rent. Women who would be “respectable” if they could afford it. Women who’d stay home at night with their children if their day jobs put food on the table, clothed their children, and kept a roof over their heads; women whose husbands had bought it, scarpered, or had been thrown in the nick. Women like the widow Julia had examined.
She rolled a pencil between her forefinger and thumb.What do people see?That desperate widow she’d examined . . .she was a hopeful bride and mother, once upon a time.
It had been two weeks since Julia had spoken to Tennant. Perhaps she’d overstepped, but she still questioned his decision to send Mary to the maze. He’d criticized Julia’s recklessness on their last case.Why has he thrown caution away now?
She wondered about Tennant and Louisa Allingham. How close had their relationship been? Had his eagerness to serve her interests clouded his judgment?And what business is it of mine anyway?He could do what he liked; console the helpless widow for all she cared.
Julia felt restless and distracted. And she was curious about the Franny Riley investigation. For all her annoyance, she missed their . . .What? Partnership? Friendship?She sighed and returned to the clinic’s night report.Concentrate.She started again at the top of the page and read until a knock interrupted her. Julia smiled when she saw O’Malley filling her doorway.
“Sorry to be disturbing you, Doctor.”
