Devil's Workshop

“And I’m sure they’re very high indeed, but I regret to inform you that I cannot afford the pleasure of your company this fine evening. Still, I believe you have earned this.”

He pressed the sixpence coin into her eager hand and walked away from her. He heard her calling to him, anxious to get more money from him, but he didn’t turn around. The thrill had left his bones. He had no business to conduct upon her well-worn body. No business of the kind she expected and no business of the kind he preferred.

Jack really was a changed man. A year or more of torture had given him new ideas about the world.

He was keen to begin testing those ideas.

The Devil marched off with a spring in his step, and the woman, her sixpence coin clutched tight in her fist, hurried into the Whistle and Flute. She remained blissfully ignorant about the thing she had met in the street that evening and never knew how lucky she was to be alive.

48

Can I push? I want to push.”

“Please wait a moment, Claire. Control your breathing and be calm.”

Kingsley had set out his instruments on the wash table next to the door, blocking them from Claire’s view with his body. He thought it probable that she had never seen a pair of forceps and he didn’t want to frighten her. He took a small stack of flannels from his bag and set them beside the forceps. He picked up a small glass vial, uncorked it, and sprinkled a few drops of clear liquid onto the cloth. He turned and held the cloth up in front of Claire.

“I’m going to place this near your nose and mouth for a moment. It’s ether. We talked about this before, remember?”

“Yes. Please do.”

He held it up to her face and she breathed in slowly. When he removed it, she appeared to be more relaxed.

“Good,” he said. “That will help with the pain.”

He set the rapidly drying flannel back on the table, separate from the clean cloths. He didn’t want to get them mixed up. He went back around the end of the bed and helped Claire position herself more comfortably.

“Is that better?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. Will there be a lot more pain?”

“Every woman is different, my dear. You’ll be fine.”

“Then I can push?”

“It’s time.”

He averted his eyes as she bore down. A moment later, she relaxed again, gasped, and began to pant quietly.

“Good,” Kingsley said. “You’re doing very well, Claire.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to stop.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option. But the baby’s going to be here soon enough. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t want the baby.”

“Of course you do. You may push again when you’re ready.”

“I’m going to stop.”

“Do you require more ether?”

“No.”

“Then let’s get ready to push.”

“Walter doesn’t want a baby.”

“Nonsense.”

“He doesn’t. I can see it in him. He disappears at night.”

“He loves you. And he loves your baby. Now I want you to stop talking about Walter and concentrate on this task right now. You’re in the middle of a very difficult job and you needn’t distract yourself with worry.”

“I think it’s his own father. Arthur Day wasn’t good at being a father, and Walter thinks-”

“Few of us are good at being fathers. But we try. And eventually our children grow into men and women who make their own mistakes and blame us for them. It’s the way of the world.”

“He’s so unhappy.”

“He’s nervous. I’ve seen this many times. He’ll be fine. And you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do. Now I want you to push again.”

“What if-”

“Claire. Push now.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed.

49

I can’t feel my leg anymore. It’s gone numb.”

“That might be for the best, Walter Day.”

“Am I bleeding to death?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “But very slowly.”

“Can you stop the bleeding?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“If I die, you won’t be able to talk to me anymore.”

“But of course I will. You just won’t be able to talk back.”

“Will you take the hood off again? It’s hot and it’s hard to breathe.”

The hood was lifted off and Day felt cool air against his face.

“It really is beastly, this hood,” Jack said. “One forgets one is a man under there.”

“I thought you said you were a god, not a man.”

“I was speaking of you.”