Free No Cure for Love by Jean Fullerton Page B

started at the Angel within a week of each other and had shared the dressing room ever since. Kitty was willowy and ethereal and danced like a nymph over the water, but unfortunately Kitty had given in to Danny. Not that it did her any good. She still had to earn her wages like the rest of them, although she did get the occasional extra florin or two when she kept Danny company. For having Danny heave and grunt on her, Ellen thought she deserved every penny of it and more. But now Kitty was sick and she knew why.
    ‘What did you take?’ Ellen asked, as Kitty sipped the water.
    ‘I got this.’ Kitty reached into her pocket and pulled out a small green glass bottle. Ellen peered at the label. Someone had written ‘Gentlewoman’s Restorative’ on it in a scrawling hand. She uncorked the bottle and sniffed, then drew back and waved her hand over the opening.
    ‘How much of this have you taken?’ she asked, as Kitty leant over the bucket again.
    ‘Old Annie said to take a mouthful on rising, one midday and again as I goes to bed,’ Kitty said.
    Old Annie was a loud and quarrelsome woman. It was rumoured that in her younger days she had been a high-class whore up west. It might have been true, but around these streets Old Annie was known for one thing, and that was the flushing out of unwanted infants. Women came from miles around to seek the abortionist’s skills - and not all of them poor single girls like Kitty. Old Annie had a steady stream of married women who could not face the thought of another mouth to feed.
    ‘For the love of Mary, there is white vitriol in this brew. You’re poisoning yourself, Kitty,’ Ellen said hotly, then put her arm around her friend. ‘Why did you go to that old hag?’
    ‘The boiling in the bath and bottle of gin didn’t work this time,’ Kitty said, as her shoulders slumped.
    Ellen said nothing. What else could Kitty do? Danny wouldn’t help her. One of his women had been dragged from the Thames when she couldn’t get a child to budge, and Ellen was determined not to see her friend suffer the same fate.
    She stood up and got hold of Kitty’s cape. Putting it snugly around her friend she stood Kitty up.
    ‘You’re going home,’ she said, walking Kitty towards the door.
    ‘But what about Danny? He’ll be mad as the devil when he hears,’ Kitty protested weakly.
    ‘He’ll be madder still if you walk onto his stage and spew over the audience. No buts. Leave Danny Donovan to me,’ Ellen said with more bravado than she felt.
    ‘You’re so good to me,’ Kitty said.
    Ellen gave her a mock frown. ‘That I am. Giving myself more work tonight while you sit snug by the fire.’
    A ghost of a smile crossed Kitty’s face. ‘You won’t mind when you see who I spotted taking his supper here tonight again.’
    Ellen’s heart started to pound.
    ‘You’re blushing, Ellen O’Casey,’ Kitty said with a trace of her old spirit. ‘Doctor Munroe’s fair enough on the eye, I suppose.’
    ‘Tom,’ Ellen called and the youthful stagehand came running. ‘Take Miss Henry home. She’s unwell. Tell Reuben I’ll sing two extra to make up her time.’
    ‘Right you are, Miss Ellen,’ Tom said, and offered Kitty his arm. ‘It’ll be fine and smart tonight. It’s a quiet crowd, intent on their victuals, and Mr Donovan’s gone to the Prospect to sup.’
    Despite her assurances to Kitty, Ellen felt mighty relieved to hear this piece of news. As she handed Kitty over into Tom’s care she gave her friend a sideways glance.
    ‘“Fair enough on the eye”?’ Ellen said in a low voice. ‘I say he’s powerful handsome is Doctor Munroe and no mistake.’
     
    As Ellen stepped out on the stage her eyes immediately sought out Doctor Munroe. She found him sitting in the far corner, his back against the wall and his head turned away. William Chafford was with him and both were intent on the plates before them.
    Disappointed but not over-perturbed, Ellen signalled for Reuben to strike