Read Online When We Touch by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page A

penniless, she had arranged for bread, cheese, and milk to be served to those who attended her talks, and soon after, Father Vickers had been forced to eject the men who dressed up in women’s clothing and attended just for the food. She understood; the pathetic prostitutes of the East End sold themselves to more pathetic men for as little as a loaf of bread. But she couldn’t feed the thousands of starving, and wanted her contributions to go to the women and children. Wives, so often abandoned, had little recourse but to resort to prostitution.
    The more children they had, the more desperate, naturally, the women became.
    And the more orphans who appeared, abandoned on the steps of the church.
    She had learned that she had a gift for speaking, a way of making her audience laugh, and in laughing, comprehend. That day, she spoke about abstinence and timing, and condoms.
    â€œDearie, we can’t be payin’ for the condoms!” a toothless woman called to her. “Goat’s bladders, did ye say? ’At’s wot they make ’em from?”
    â€œThe important issue is that we prevent pregnancy.”
    â€œWhy, ’alf the guvners I know are used to sheep as well, Katy!” another woman called to the first.
    Maggie looked down, shaking her head. “Spend a few pennies less on gin, and you’ll have what you need. Not to mention the fact that Father Vickers and I have acquired some free . . . contraceptives for you.”
    â€œOh, m’lady!” cried a woman called Bess. “’Ow do we get our blokes to use ’em?”
    â€œInsist,” Maggie said.
    â€œ ’T’won’t be easy!” Katy said. “Why, Lordy! I never heard ’ow such a thing meself until this very day!”
    â€œBelieve me, they’ve been around for . . . well, for a very, very long time.”
    Bess sniggered. “Wot if they don’t know ’ow to get ’em on!”
    â€œBetween you, you’ll figure it out,” she said dryly. “And neither is feeding more children an easy effort. Abortions can be deadly—especially those you try to bring upon yourselves, or those performed by many a supposed physician in these quarters,” she reminded them sharply. “Now, really! I’m certain most of you all are well aware of methods of prevention, and condoms—in some form or another—have been in use for more than a thousand years.”
    She went on to talk about emptying chamber pots more frequently, and speak about the virtue—and good health—to be found in a modicum of cleanliness, though she knew that soap, as well, was a luxury these women could not afford. But though she had secured the condoms with what had been left of her own allowance, she had gotten Charles to provide the soap to be given away that day. She realized a little uneasily that she hadn’t told him a thing about her speech, and certainly hadn’t discussed condoms with him. It had been a Herculean task to bring the conversation regarding “precaution” to Father Vickers, but he, at least, during his time in the area, was aware that although such a discussion was a ghastly sin in a social arena, it made the utmost sense in the East End. She wasn’t sure which one of them had blushed more when they had first determined on the effort.
    God told Adam to go out and be fruitful, but certainly, the “fruit” of the East End usually perished before it became anywhere near ripe.
    â€œThank you all for listening to me,” she said, finishing her speech. Nathan had once told her that what the poor often needed more than anything was simple respect. And so, she always thanked her audience, were they toothless, penniless, or even flat-out drunk with gin, lolling on the ground before her.
    The women rushed toward her, thanking her, touching her. To this day, she had to grit her teeth to endure the stench and the creeping sensation that sometimes