Maidens in the Night

By Mark Morey

It is Whitechapel in London, November 1888.  Young, attractive prostitute Mary Kelly is stalked by someone, but who?  Former client Joe Flemming, the serial killer Jack the Ripper who has murdered four or five prostitutes already, or someone else?  She knows any man she meets could kill her, but she has no choice other than to work the streets.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613092019

Mark Morey

Writing a novel didn't cross my mind until relatively recently, when I went to the local library and couldn't find a book that interested me. That led me consider a new pastime. Write a book. That book may never be published, but I felt my follow-up cross-cultural crime with romance hybrid set in Russia had more potential. So much so that I wrote a sequel that took those characters on a journey to a very dark place. Once those books were published and garnered good reviews I wrote in a very different place and time, and my two novels set in Victorian Britain and published in July and August of 2014. I followed those up with various novels set in various places at various times, with the most recent being a story set in the Syrian Civil War.

Book preview

One

Michelle pulled the cable for the brass bell and waited with her arms crossed. His housekeeper opened the door and Michelle strode inside without saying a word. She knew he was waiting and probably watching. She pulled open the door and went to his sitting room where he turned around slowly. It was a man’s room: practical, spare.

Do you agree to my terms? Michelle asked.

Brian Finlay nodded. But Michelle wondered, despite his written agreement. She hadn’t travelled all the way to Edinburgh to be just another conquest.

Let’s shake on it, Michelle said.

Brian Finlay took her hand. And then he pulled her to him, wrapping her in a deep embrace. Michelle gazed into his eyes.

I agree to everything you ask, he murmured.

Then you can have me, Michelle said. She had waited a long time; too long. "Faire l’amour en moi maitenant."

"Bien sur," he replied. Of course.

Effortlessly he swept Michelle off her feet and she grabbed him tight, inhaling his delightful manly scent. He carried her up his stairs, stairs of no return, and Michelle knew her life would never be the same.

~ * ~

Brian lay on his back with his hands behind his head. Michelle moulded herself to him and he cupped her, pulling her close. She rested her head on his chest and felt his heart still beating fast.

Why did you say ‘when the time was right I would know’? Michelle asked quietly.

I felt it and I knew you felt it too, Brian replied.

But why me?

Cullen told me that a beautiful young lady who claimed she wasn’t a lady had gone to The Waterline. Of course I had to go and there you were: cool, calm and indignant!

Panic wasn’t going to rescue me.

I know. He squeezed Michelle tighter and she shivered from his touch. I fell in love with you and that’s the truth.

I believe you, but loving me comes with a cost.

I’m more than happy to share my home with your step-children and your governess.

And my maid. But there’s more; something I didn’t write about. I want my own children one day.

Of course, when the time is right for both of us.

Are you sure? Michelle asked, feeling puzzled.

Yes.

"Je t’aime chéri. I love you darling."

"Je t’aime aussi. I love you too."

~ * ~

Michelle pondered the irony of a simple evening meal so soon after their passionate encounter. Brian dressed in chequered blue with a leather jacket, as was his way. Michelle was also dressed in blue; wearing blue satin cut low at the front, tight at her waist and with a train. Sitting at the table dressed as they were, they could be any couple in the year eighteen-eighty. The maid poured red wine and Michelle took her glass and inhaled the delightful aroma. Superb.

It’s French, Brian said.

For me? Michelle asked, surprised.

He nodded.

How do you know so much? Michelle asked.

I have my sources.

Do you know anything else?

You enjoy coffee and porridge in the morning, simple lunches of bread with cheese or meat, and fruit, and you have plans with your sisters-in-law. The Constance West Trust.

What do you think?

Brian sipped his wine before placing the glass on a coaster. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table. You may have difficulties establishing a charity run by women, but if the director and, say, some of the board members were well-known men of standing... Which isn’t to say the real decisions aren’t made by other directors.

I do appreciate that, Michelle said. But will your past be an—obstacle?

Brian rubbed his chin for a moment. There are a few men who may bear a grudge, but there are just as many wives of those men who feel otherwise. On balance I think not.

I hope not, Michelle said, hoping her plans wouldn’t be ruined by her fiance’s colourful history. She already had one volunteer for the board, her former lover who knew about charities. Do you mind if I ask Paul Lawrence?

Paulo di Lorenzi? Of course not.

You’re trusting.

You’re here with me, not in London with him.

Michelle nodded just as the housekeeper returned with two bowls of soup.

The women of the streets of Edinburgh will be in good hands, Brian said.

Thank you, Michelle replied. Too many have no choices beyond poverty or the workhouse. To get started we need money and Paul suggested a ball. Then I can set up a house with staff to run it, and we shall offer training for domestic service.

There’s not a great calling for domestic staff in this city.

At first we shall only be dealing with small numbers, so I’m sure we can find positions for ten or more women who want a new start in life.

Brian didn’t commit himself and Michelle thought through the implications of his non comment.

Brian sat back in his chair. You and your sisters-in-law are taking on a great challenge, he said.

I have been fortunate in my life, and I feel it’s time to pay some of that fortune back with my time and my energy.

Brian nodded while Michelle had some chicken soup, which needed salt. She sprinkled some but it didn’t improve the taste. If the soup was typical then they needed a decent cook. But she couldn’t change his house and life on her first day. Well, not yet anyway. First she had to get her children and her staff settled, and get the charity fundraising underway, and then recruit staff to run the day-to-day side of the Trust. She wondered who would be able to manage and train women from the streets. It would be a challenging job.

When do you wish to bring your step-children from London? Brian asked.

Michelle put her spoon down and looked her handsome fiancee in the eyes. Those wicked eyes pricked her heart. Pricked her memories of mere moments ago. She smiled brightly. Let’s get to know each other first, she said.

Brian smiled at her invitation and Michelle knew deep to her soul that this was meant to be.

Two

Edward, the footman from her London residence, escorted Michelle deep into Old Nichol. The cab driver would only take them as far as Bethnal Green Road, and from there they proceeded on foot into the maze of side-streets hemmed in by bleak tenement buildings. Even though Michelle had been there before, she was still surprised by the foulness of that corner of the great metropolis of London. And the further they went the more decrepit it became. They walked along muddy, cobbled streets with decrepit buildings looming all around. The stench was foul, from refuse strewn about and from disgusting, open drains. The stench was so vile that it took Michelle’s breath away. The blackened, brick buildings hemmed Michelle in, and she knew that eyes were watching through dirty windows, even though many broken panes were blocked with newspapers, and even the old hat she saw many months before was still there. The ugly buildings blocked out the sun, and there was no colour except for sooty black.

Michelle led Edward, dressed casually rather than in uniform, to a cul-de-sac. She stopped near the doorway to the second building along.

First floor, first door on the left, Michelle said.

Yes, Mrs. Devine.

Edward disappeared out of sight, and Michelle felt exposed while waiting outside the slum where she was once held prisoner. She kept an eye on the open doorway until Edward escorted Lilly Bernice onto the street. Michelle went to greet her.

Fancy you returning! Lilly exclaimed.

I have unfinished business, Michelle said enigmatically. I have a proposal for you to consider, and I would be pleased if you could accompany me to my home so we can discuss it.

Lilly studied Michelle for several moments. Well, I s’pose it won’t do any harm to listen to your proposal.

Good. I have a cab waiting nearby.

I’ve never ridden in a cab before.

If you’re interested in my proposal, there are many things you will do for the first time.

Lilly said nothing while Edward led the way out of the slum and towards Bethnal Green Road. Once they turned the corner Michelle felt more secure.

If you don’t mind me asking, are you still using a vinegar sponge? Michelle asked.

I am, Lilly replied.

Would you be interested in a change, if it gave you freedom and the ability to support yourself?

I might be, depending on the change.

Michelle thought that good. They reached the main road with all its hustle and crowds, and Edward held the door of the waiting four-wheeled cab for the two ladies before climbing in beside. They were soon on their way and negotiating London’s mid-morning traffic while travelling to the rich side of town. The streets of London bustled as omnibuses, cabs, carts and carriages fought for space. Hundreds of omnibuses crowded the road with women inside and men on top, and all with advertising signs for tea, coffee, milk and a hundred other goods besides. Footpaths were more crowded than the roads, with rich and poor hemmed between tall buildings and a never-ending stream of traffic. Noisy traffic: with thousands of horse’s hooves clomping, and thousands of wheels rumbling on hard pavement. On the footpaths costermongers called for business, urchins at street corners called newspaper headlines and shopkeepers called passersby. Many smells: horses, open markets, the river. They travelled past parks, gardens and even Buckingham Palace, until they arrived at Chester Square. A narrow and quiet street lined by grand multi-storey terrace houses, finished in grimy-white stucco and facing the garden. The garden was a delight with lush green trees and blossoming shrubs beneath. Truly beautiful on a lovely spring day.

This ain’t half a lovely place, Lilly exclaimed.

Thank you, Michelle said. I inherited it from my late husband.

Anything happening with that boyfriend of yours?

I broke it off with him and now I’m engaged to a gentleman in Edinburgh.

Edinburgh! That’s in Scotland!

It is.

Edward alighted, followed by Michelle and Lilly.

Come inside to the sitting room, Michelle said. It’s quite pleasant when the sun is out. Would you like a cup of tea?

Only if you’re having one.

They climbed the stairs to be greeted by Emma.

Emma, Michelle said. Can you bring two cups of tea to the sitting room please? And some cake as well.

You’ve got the life, Lilly exclaimed.

Michelle showed Lilly an armchair, which was significantly more comfortable than a pile of hessian sacks. Michelle sat beside her companion.

Your situation, and the situation of another young lady I once met have played on my mind, Michelle said. At the time I was distracted by problems but those problems have been resolved. As you know, my husband died on our wedding night, so I inherited all that you see and much more besides. For me it’s time to give something back. Because my fiance owns a business in Edinburgh I have been living there these past months. My charity, the Constance West Trust, is based in Edinburgh, and we recently held a ball and made a substantial sum of money. Enough money to rent a decent house and pay the wages of two employees for the next year.

What’s your charity going to do? Lilly asked.

Many young women find themselves in difficulties, although why women have to shoulder the burden when it takes two is beyond me. But that is the way for now, and I am offering young women in difficulties an alternative to the workhouse, poverty or prostitution.

Is there such a thing?

Emma brought in a tray and placed it on the table. Michelle spooned some sugar and poured a little milk.

Help yourself, Michelle said.

Lilly also added sugar and milk to her tea before sipping it. This is right nice, she said.

Thank you. Sadly the alternatives for women are limited, and the best I can come up with is domestic service such as you can see in this house. The money is only fair and the hours are long, although the job includes meals and lodging. To be honest, I can see many young women preferring the easy money of the street, just as Frank Palmer prefers to be a pickpocket rather than do factory work. And unlike Frank, women aren’t breaking the law unless they solicit, which is a crime that’s rarely enforced. But I am sure that some women will be pleased to have an alternative and I want to help those women. I’m not crusading on the moral rights and wrongs of prostitution; it’s always been and it always will be, but I am trying to help those who don’t want to be there.

I think it would be right creepy to be—used by some dirty old man who wants nothing more than to get off on you. Right creepy that would be.

Michelle shivered in sympathy with Lily’s description. Quite, she said. Are you interested?

In doing what? Lilly asked while frowning.

Moving to Edinburgh and taking a leading hand in the day-to-day operations of my charity. Getting to know the street workers, helping those who want to be helped and looking after them in the house we have rented.

What’s going to happen in this house?

We shall train women for domestic service.

What’s in this for me?

Free meals and lodging and the same wage as my personal maid. Twenty-five pounds a year.

Lilly held her cup in one hand and rubbed her chin with the other. That’s good money.

It will be hard work and a responsible job but I believe I can trust you. You were good to me and I have never forgotten that.

Well, thank you Michelle.

It’s nothing. I’m leaving for Edinburgh the day after tomorrow and I would like you to accompany me.

I have to tell me mum, but after that I’m free.

Good. Do you have any things to collect?

A few things at me mum’s place.

I can get Edward to escort you.

That might be right handy given Frank an’ all. How we getting to Edinburgh?

Your first train ride.

Do you mind if I go to me mum now? It’s just I want to draw a break with Frank an’ Old Nichol an’ all that, an’ the sooner it’s done the better.

That’s fine, and you can stay here tonight if you wish.

Thank you. I’m looking forward to this. I can give me mum some of me wages which will help her a lot. It’s gonna be good.

I hope it will be.

~ * ~

The train pulled into Edinburgh station and weary passengers surged from every compartment. Michelle waited until the crowd lessened, and then she led Lilly onto the platform beneath a curved, glazed, soot-covered roof.

At least it’s not as crowded as Kings Cross, Lilly said.

Everything in Edinburgh is less crowded than London, Michelle said. It’s quite charming in a way.

Michelle took Lilly’s hand and guided her towards the station entrance. There were more than enough hansom cabs, small two wheeled carriages with the driver high at the rear, and she hailed the next one in line. She gave the address: Twelve Starbank Road, Trinity, and climbed in for the driver to close the doors. Soon they were on their way with Lilly eagerly taking in everything around her. Her first time outside London. Trinity wasn’t far from the city centre and they pulled up at Michelle’s new home which was similar in size to her house in Belgravia, a full five storeys. But it was quite different with a lovely view of the sea beyond the wall across the road. Part of a block of terraced houses in granite, all set back a couple of yards from the footpath, and all with small and simple gardens in front. They were greeted by footman Owen Holt, formerly of Devon, and also greeted by Michelle’s maid Annie.

Annie Grey, Michelle said. This is Lilly Bernice who I told you about. Lilly, this is my maid Annie.

Pleased to meet you Lilly, Annie said.

Thank you, Annie, Lilly replied. This is a nice house, Michelle.

It is.

Brian appeared at the front door and Lilly seemed to sense his presence. She looked across wide-eyed while Owen took the two suitcases inside.

Who’s that? Lilly asked quietly.

He’s my fiance, Brian Finlay.

He’s right handsome an’ all.

I think he is.

Michelle glanced at Brian: tousled brown hair, hazel eyes wrinkled at the edges, a strong face, a firm jaw; he was the most handsome man. Thirty-five years old, thirteen years older than she, as Michelle preferred. Brian kissed Michelle passionately, as he always did when they met and regardless of who may be around. She hugged him and felt her heart beating fast. They had been apart for three days and she knew what was coming. And she couldn’t wait. Eventually the kiss ended and Michelle stepped back to glance at Lilly who looked rather flushed.

Brian, this is Lilly.

Brian extended his hand to shake Lilly’s. I’m pleased to meet you, he said in his gorgeous, deep voice. Michelle has told me so much about you.

Brian helps with our charity, Michelle said,

But only on the fringes. The world isn’t ready for a charity run by women for women, as much as Michelle wishes for otherwise. So her former boyfriend and I are on the board, but it’s the women who make all the decisions.

My sisters-in-law Clair and Lucy, Michelle clarified. You will meet them soon. Come, let’s get you inside and settled.

Lilly followed Brian inside and upstairs to a guest’s room. Brian then left Michelle and Lilly to unpack and he closed the door behind him.

Oh my, Lilly said. Is he always like that?

Always.

He’s amazing.

I think so.

When’re you getting married?

On the first of June. You can come to the wedding.

Thank you. You’re a right lucky woman an’ that’s the truth!

I like to think that sometimes we make our own luck. You being here comes from doing the right thing by me, and Brian and I together comes from taking a chance for the relationship of a lifetime.

Yeah, there might be truth in that.

There are good men here in Scotland and you’re intelligent and very pretty. You can play the field and see how things turn out. Indeed, Michelle felt that Lilly, with her petite build, jet black hair and big, dark eyes was rather striking, not to mention her ready smile and perpetual good humour. You can play the field and see how things turn out.

I might just do that. But to be kissed like that in the middle of the street!

Michelle burst out laughing. What would the neighbours think?

Lilly giggled. They’d think ‘I wished we could do that’.

You may be right. I will get Annie to run you a bath after our long journey. Tomorrow your new job starts, so you need a good night’s sleep because it might be a long night. But it will be worth it, I’m sure.

I’m very excited and that’s the truth.

One day women will be treated as equals to men, but until then it’s down to us.

Absolutely.

Three

Michelle waited in the sitting room of the rented house in Morningside; a simple but modern two-storey brick home in a terraced block. Downstairs had a sitting room, dining room, kitchen and scullery; while upstairs had three bedrooms with two single beds each, and there were two rooms in the attic for Lilly and for a cook. Michelle sat on the brown-coloured corduroy sofa near the window. Two matching armchairs, each with side tables, made up the rest of the furniture in the room. Michelle peeled the curtain back on the bay window and checked the street illuminated by gaslights. Nothing. It was three in the morning and Lilly hadn’t returned. Michelle wondered what could have gone wrong. A hundred things could have gone wrong. She then heard the front door creak. Michelle fought the urge to race into the passage and instead waited for Lilly to report to her. Lilly entered; wearing a simple white cotton bodice and skirt with a black vest, black hat, black stockings and black boots. Lilly flopped into one of the armchairs and sighed deeply. Michelle watched, waiting.

Oh, Michelle, Lilly said. It was terrible and I got nowhere!

What was the problem? Michelle asked.

I don’t know. I s’pose I’m an outsider an’ they know it. They’re mostly Irish an’ they don’t trust anyone beyond their own, least of all a Londoner.

I understand. Did you learn anything of use?

Everything’s of use, ain’t it? Lilly rubbed her temples. There’s lots of Irish an’ the rest are Scots, but not from here, ah, not from Edinburgh. They come to the city where there’s work on the streets.

We can still help them.

We can, but I don’t know how. Lilly shook her head. It’s beyond me.

Michelle sat in the other armchair and looked deep into Lilly’s dark eyes. A young woman on her own, first time on the streets of Edinburgh, was bound to fail. I was wrong to send you out unprepared, she said. We should go together so I can understand the situation.

I’m sorry, Michelle, but that won’t work. If I’m an outsider, you being a toff an’ all’s going to be worse! They’ll spot you miles away looking like that.

I could dress to fit in.

That might work. I’d lend you some of me clothes but you’re too tall! To be honest, you’re too beautiful, although your hair’s good. A few of the women have red hair, but not lush like yours.

So I shall buy new clothes and a hat that shows my hair, and we can see where that takes us.

Can’t hurt I s’pose.

That’s right.

~ * ~

Michelle and Lilly walked in silence on a cool May night with light mist swirling around street gaslights, but not heavy fog like London. Boots echoed on a deserted street, for those who could were inside where it was warm. Around a corner and along another deserted street. Michelle recalled Lilly’s perceptive remark: everything’s of use, isn’t it? Day two and she knew exactly which way to go. Michelle felt a warm glow; with Lilly she had the right person for the job. They crossed the street and they stopped just short of a thoroughfare cut through a long, narrow park with women standing under lights: one or a few women per light.

Meadow Walk, Lilly said quietly.

Michelle nodded and took in the scene while protected from view by a wall. It was a path running through the centre of a park bounded by a granite wall, with a larger park further along. Most of the women were dressed in shabby clothes and many were skinny to the point of emaciation. Under one light three were sharing a bottle: taking swigs in turn and happily toasting each other ‘a short life and a merry one’, which was rather morbid. Further along two women were conversing in loud, drunken tones. Whatever the topic of conversation it involved a lot of profanity. Michelle heard footsteps approaching from the right and turned to see two men in bowler hats approaching. In turn the women called, tugged, jeered and swore in slurred voices as the men passed. On and on until the men disappeared out of sight. Michelle realised that most of the women were tipsy if not drunk, and she wondered if they were drunk because of the life they lived, or if the life they lived was the result of drink.

Shouting startled Michelle from her contemplations and she looked up to see a man in scruffy clothes topped with a dishevelled cloth cap approaching. He was called, tugged and jeered until he stopped beneath a light where he spoke with a young woman who obviously took his fancy, although Michelle couldn’t understand why. She was tall but gangly and scrawny. After a moment they departed as a couple and Michelle felt both fascinated and revolted.

What now? Lilly asked.

Michelle pondered the question. It was late, almost midnight, so it was time. We shall see what we can find out.

Lilly led the way onto Meadow Walk and immediately was greeted by a call, ‘it’s you agin, come to convert us yer bastirt!’ Michelle stopped and went to the young woman who shouted, and that woman backed away.

No, don’t, please, Michelle said.

What you want then?

We’re not who you think we are. I’m not here to save your soul or anything silly like that. If you’re interested I can offer something different to working on the street, but the decision’s entirely up to you.

What if I say I’m happy here?

I say that’s fine by me and we shall move on.

Suit yerself.

That was right good, Michelle, Lilly said quietly while they strolled along the street. You was right to come.

They walked along the path while jeers and shouts indicated that more men, or Michelle supposed they were clients, for want of a better term, had arrived. Two men strolled by: well dressed in fine coats and top hats. Lust on the streets knew no boundaries.

You said you can offer something different, a voice asked from behind.

Michelle turned around to face a pretty young woman dressed to suit the cool weather. I would like to but I’m not sure how. My name is Michelle, what’s yours?

Jane.

How old are you Jane?

Nineteen.

And we are you from?

Duns, near the border. Ma Maw died from fever many years ago and ma Paw died in an accident.

What sort of accident? Michelle asked to break the ice.

Accident with a hay-baling machine. I got two sisters and a brother, and there’s naw work in Duns for a girl my age. So I came here looking for something but there’s naw work in Auld Reekie, even being the capital. So here I am.

Can we walk and talk?

Aye, we can take a wee donner.

Michelle headed towards the wall and away from the other women. You say there’s no work Jane?

I looked for domestic work but there’s nawt. Only sewing at home: dress-making, bonnet-making, hat-making for a few shillings a week. Maybe six or seven for the fastest, which I’m not. I’ve been told there’s more honest work in the factories of Glesgae, but with the bairns it’s hard to move. What are you offering?

I was going to offer training for domestic—

There’s nawt, Jane interrupted.

I honestly don’t know then. My fiance has lived here most of his life so I must talk with him. I’m truly sorry I can’t help you right at this moment; I really am.

Jane touched Michelle’s shoulder. Don’t you feel sorry for we’re right enough here.

Michelle was touched. All you want to do is earn enough to look after your family.

I earn enough. Two or three a night’s all I need.

Michelle reached into her pocket, pulled out a card and gave it to Jane. If you are interested please come to my—refuge we shall call it. Please come to my refuge in two weeks’ time and we shall offer you something, I promise.

I’ll do that, but I must go else we’ll be hungry tomorrow.

Good luck, Jane.

Thank you, Jane said before heading towards the path.

What can we do? Lilly asked.

Many of these women are beyond our means, but there will be more like Jane. We need some way of helping them and Brian might know how. Michelle pondered what to do and decided to speak with Brian first. But if he didn’t have an answer then the solution may take time to organise. Can you come to our house the day after tomorrow at, say, two?

Yes. Hey, who’s that?

Michelle looked across to see a small figure next to a gaslight. She was small: short and slim. For a moment Michelle wondered but dismissed her thought. Instead she headed towards the small figure who looked up before fleeing. Michelle watched her run, run like a girl, run like a young girl. The girl darted around a corner and into a narrow lane. She was too fast and gone before Michelle had a chance to think about it. Too late.

Let’s go, Lilly, Michelle said. I will see you on Thursday.

Four

Michelle woke in an empty bed. Her head ached and she felt tired, despite getting home at not such a late hour. She climbed out of bed in darkness and opened the curtains. Like the rest of Brian’s house the bedroom was simple and masculine. Maroon walls, with a brown frieze near the ceiling, dark brown curtains, a mahogany mantel bare of decorations, a large bed with pleasant, shining brass bed heads, and mahogany side tables, wardrobe, dressing table and chair. Michelle could have called her maid but wasn’t in the mood, so she washed and dressed herself before braiding her long, red hair into two simple plats and pinning them in place. Presentable for the day as a lady should be, Michelle opened the door to be greeted by the scent of coffee carrying up the stairs. But even the thought of fresh coffee didn’t help her mood. She had such grand plans and they were in disarray.

Michelle entered the large, austere dining room of green and brown with simple, mahogany furniture.

How are you darling? Brian said.

Michelle glared at Brian looking comfortable with his plate of bacon, eggs and toast. You knew there wasn’t any domestic work, she snapped.

I didn’t know for certain.

Michelle had a flash of Jane with a grubby stranger, like the man who went with the tall, skinny woman. Sweet Jane forced to do unmentionable things just to support her brothers and sisters. I need help, Michelle said.

I’m sorry darling but I have a business to run, as you know.

They suffer so much that it breaks my heart.

Brian tilted his head. You’re a sensitive woman, he said quietly. You’ve taken on a lot and it must seem overwhelming. You cannot solve this problem in just one day; especially when you got to bed late and are tired. A cup of strong, black coffee ought to help.

Michelle couldn’t argue with that logical assessment. She took her seat before grabbing the silver jug and pouring a cup.

I don’t understand what I saw last night, Michelle said.

Sexual coupling is a very powerful drive, like eating and sleeping, Brian replied.

Not for the women last night.

No, not for the women last night. But it is at other times.

Michelle nodded slowly in agreement. Perhaps not as often for a woman as a man, but most certainly she dreamed and fantasised, and even more than fantasised. And the longer she went without the more powerful her desire. Yes, at other times, she said.

It was hard to make sense of it all. Indeed, it made no sense. It was humanities worst flaw. Why did God make us like this? Michelle asked quietly.

So we would survive. We suffered wars and famine and terrible diseases, and to survive we had to reproduce many times over. Only now we’re clever and we can enjoy sexual relations without the burden of pregnancy and offspring, unless we choose otherwise.

Michelle sipped her coffee while digesting his logical, manly thoughts. God planned for mankind to prosper, despite the bad side of desire. But desire wasn’t truly bad, and Michelle felt most complete, most whole and most feminine in the afterglow of passion. And men too. There’s bad in it but there’s also good. I just want to help a few young women escape from the badness.

What do you want of me?

I must find a way for those who wish to change to earn a living. Michelle remembered something Jane had said. What do you know of factory work in Glasgow?

Not much, I’m afraid, but I can introduce you to a man who can help. He’s an acquaintance at my club and he owns a weaving factory there. I shall write you a letter of introduction.

Don’t you have your business to run?

Brian looked deep into Michelle’s eyes. The business can wait. Something that can’t wait is our wedding.

Michelle pondered that. What is a ‘Scottish Wedding’ anyway? she asked.

A wedding at my parent’s home.

Michelle was surprised and somewhat worried. How large is your parent’s home? she asked.

Why?

Well... and Michelle realised she had made a terrible mistake. Well, I invited Clair and Peter, Lucy and George, and Lilly. And there’s Mother and Father and Albert and Sarah.

Bloody hell, Michelle!

Michelle jumped to her feet so fast her chair toppled over. Don’t you swear at me! I’m not your property, not now, not ever, and I will not be spoken to like that!

Brian jumped to his feet too. Why didn’t you ask me?

I didn’t think I had to for my wedding.

Well you were wrong.

So who will you allow me to have at my wedding? Or am I having no one?

Brian grimaced. Your parents, your brother and his wife.

And you?

My parents.

Nobody else?

I have no brothers or sisters, so nobody else.

I don’t want a wedding with just Albert, Sarah and my parents, and your parents too. I don’t like my father and I don’t even know your parents.

Well you’ll bloody well have to!

I told you not to swear at me!

I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.

You bastard, Michelle murmured under her breath.

I heard that! Brian bellowed.

Good! Now we’re even. Michelle reached down and picked her chair up. Then she sat at