Chapter 13
Custom was slow, and Mary finished her work at the tavern on Ward’s Hill, just off New Market, early. The owner sent her home so as not to have to pay her for the full evening. She protested, but she had no power, and she was told to go for the night or go for good. She needed the money, so she had to swallow this less well-paid night. When she left, it was raining very heavily and there was a vicious chill in the water driving down. It was falling so heavily that it seemed the drops were bouncing right back off the ground, and she was getting as wet from below as she was from above.
She rushed homewards in this foul weather rather than try shelter in some door or archway. She had heard in the course of her work of the terrible rumours about the killings at the prison, and as one would expect, they affected her more deeply than they did anyone else. She didn’t believe the rumours, but she couldn’t stop them from pervading her thoughts every evening as she made her way home alone along the sometimes eerily quiet streets. She was so scared some evenings that when she rounded a corner and found a pig in the street, she would double back and take another street to get where she was going, and as there were hundreds of these dirty beasts all over the city, this could happen a few times every evening and would cause her sometimes to have to run past one on the opposite side of the street, having exhausted all the routes home she knew.
On this night, there was no one about, and even the pigs had the sense to find shelter where they could. The noise of the rain slapping on the ground was all she could hear, and not even her own scurrying footsteps registered in her ears.
Once or twice, she thought she saw someone ahead, but when she looked up to see properly, there was no one there. It was probably someone darting into one of the buildings to escape the weather. She continued on regardless.
She was still living with Sarah (a month and half after she had been let stay for one night!) in Hanbury Lane. The walk home only took her fifteen minutes, pigs depending, and she always felt she was just about there when she reached the junction of Ash Street and Engine Alley. She could see this now, and she quickened her pace with the thought of the dryness inside Sarah’s place and of the fire that would be possibly still be going now, though it was normally down to embers by the time Mary got in. She would poke and crush them to get the last heat from them and feel that loved warmth for a few seconds before going to bed. She felt a little warmer even thinking there would be a fire.
She saw something move by the side of the wall ahead of her, and this time she did stop. The movement hadn’t looked natural, and she was alarmed by what it might be. She looked around to see if there was anyone else there who might be able to assist her should she need it, but no one was there. A sheet of rain slapped against her, causing her to shut her eyes for a moment, the tide of it clearly approaching her from across the road as the clouds moved overhead. She looked again to where she had seen movement. There didn’t seem to be anything there now, but she had seen it at the corner of Croslick, a small street that she would have to pass to get to her junction.
She crossed over to the other side of Ash Street and edged forward slowly, still trying to see something. The closer she got, the more fearful she became, and the driving rain and the rush of bubbling water at the roadside were all she could hear. She could feel the cold, rough brick of the buildings at her wet back as she shunted along, trying to make herself as quiet and invisible as she could.
She could see a little into Croslick now, but there was still a part hidden by the angle of the corner where someone might be lurking. She took a deep breath; the sound of her heart beating was now audible inside her head. She stepped out into the crossroads with Garden Lane to her back, and now she could see across Ash Street and down the full length of Croslick.
There was nothing there! The relief almost brought her to her knees, and the pace of her heart seemed to lessen as she became even more aware of the thumping in her chest. She breathed deeply again to try to calm her shaking body, her jellied legs, and her light head.
She felt the crash of her forehead into the road before she felt the the strike from behind or the tumult of her fall. She was dazed for a second, and then she heard the animal noises that she had so feared, and she felt the ripping of the flesh of her upper back and heard her clothes tear along with it. She screamed and tried to turn, but the creature had his weight on her now, and her legs were pinned under it, grinding against the hard ground. She could feel more strikes, and she could see glints of light on the dripping, wet teeth, and they smashed around her, sometimes hitting her and sinking into her and sometimes missing and making horrible screeching noises on the cobbles; there seemed to be flashes of sparks as they crashed against the cobbles. Each slash was more painful than the last, and still she struggled on, trying to wriggle free, her hands swinging as much as she could behind her at her assailant. She twisted and writhed and once caught sight of one wild eye that didn’t meet hers but didn’t seem to be focused on anything.
Just as suddenly as it started, she felt the weight lift from her body and then was aware of some men shouting and the sound of running footsteps. She was face down, and she felt so weak, like she was going to pass out, but the pain was keeping her conscious, and she moaned in agony and ran her hand over her back to where it hurt the most. She could feel thick ridges that she couldn’t understand, and the pain was unbelievable.
Someone was talking to her, but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, and then she felt a new, excruciating pain as she was lifted from the ground, and she let out a howling wail before falling out of waking.