The Lights of London Read Online Free

shereached under her skirt and pulled out a short, squat flask. ‘Here, have a drop of this nerve tonic to warm your cockles, me little love.’
    Tibs took a pull of the liquor, screwing up her eyes as she waited for it to hit the back of her throat. But then she realised that her mouth wasn’t burning and her eyes weren’t watering either.
    She examined the gin bottle in disbelief. It was proper stuff, not the sort of rot-gut that was brewed up in a bucket in someone’s backyard. ‘It’s good gear, this,’ she said after a long pause. ‘Right nice stuff.’
    ‘It’s that all right. And how about this.’ She scratched purposefully at her tightly corseted waist. ‘I might still be cootie, but look.’
    Sal affected a mad grimace, showing a wide gap where her front teeth had once stood like rotting tree stumps. ‘I even got myself enough to go and see the dentist. Mind you, I ain’t never been before. That cocaine lark he gave me was a bit frightening. Made
that
seem like water,’ she said, pointing to the gin that Tibs was still holding. ‘I don’t think I’ll be going back to get the rest done.’
    ‘So where’d it all come from then? The bottle of jacky’ – Tibs held up the flask – ‘all the new clobber.’ She frowned with concern; they both knew Albert’s views on girls who made private arrangements with their punters. ‘Here, you sure you ain’t got no one on the quiet? I wouldn’t say nothing, Sal, you know me, but you’d better watch yourself if you have.’
    One-eyed Sal had a swallow of gin, put the bottle back under her skirt, leaned forward and pinched Tibs’s cheek. ‘I’ve got better than that, my little pet, I’ve got a new hall I’m working. And you know how the halls attract the posh sorts out slumming. They’re always on the look-out for business. And this one, well, even oldcrows like me are getting plenty of custom.’ She slapped Tibs playfully on the shoulder. ‘Specially from the ones what’ve been to fancy West End parties and have spent all night staring at their friends’ wives’ titties bulging out of them fancy frocks, and all without getting even a little squeeze of ’em. By the time they get down here they’re bloody screaming for it. Us brides are well away.’
    ‘Where’s this hall then, Sal?’
    ‘You know, down the Old Black Dog.’ Sal took a pipe from her pocket, tried and failed to light it. ‘Bugger this weather. It’s colder and damper than a witch’s tit. If this fog don’t …’
    ‘They’re putting on turns at the Dog? The one in Rosemary Lane?’ Tibs broke in impatiently.
    ‘Yeah, Jack Fisher, the new landlord there, he’s opened up that big room upstairs. The one old Mary Fishguts used to …’
    ‘Mary who?’
    Sal chuckled deep in her throat. ‘I forget, Tibs, you’re just a youngster, ain’t you. Wish I was. You know, when I was your age …’
    ‘So how long’s it been open then?’ Tibs interrupted again. She didn’t want to be rude to her old friend but she had to find out more. This could be the answer to her prayers.
    ‘Been going for almost a fortnight, it has.’ Sal sniffed loudly and wiped her nose along the back of her hand, leaving a trail of silvery snot that traced its way up and along her scarlet sleeve. ‘They can try all they like with their licensing nonsense, but I’m telling you, they’ll never close down the halls. Never. They can …’
    ‘Look, Sal, I know I’ve been working more over towards Aldgate,’ Tibs said a bit more sulkily than she’d intended. ‘Trying to keep out of Albert’s way to tell youthe truth. That old cow Mrs Bowdall stung me for more money over the last fortnight and I sort of owe him a bit. But someone could’ve mentioned it to me.’
    ‘Don’t be like that, love. No one who knew about it reckoned it was gonna last more than a week. See, it ain’t exactly Drury Lane. I mean, brides like me don’t usually get a look-in at the better sort of halls. You have to be