Free Constant Lovers by Chris Nickson

walked in. They stared at him expectantly.
    â€˜I’m looking for Mr Nottingham,’ he said.
    The Constable stood up and smiled. ‘I’m Richard Nottingham.’
    â€˜I’m Robert Lister. My father said I should come and see you.’
    â€˜Of course.’ The son of the Mercury publisher. He was quite tall and well built, much like his father must have been before he ran to fat, with bushy hair falling past his collar and tied back with a blue ribbon. His gaze was clear and steady, and there was just the faintest trace of old spots on his cheeks. He’d dragged out his good suit for this, the Constable suspected, and given it a thorough brushing.
    â€˜I’ll be off,’ Sedgwick said.
    â€˜Go home,’ Nottingham told him. ‘You’ve walked enough today.’
    â€˜Still better than that bloody cart,’ the deputy replied with a broad grin as he closed the door.
    â€˜Sit down, Mr Lister.’
    The lad sat, glancing around before giving his attention to Nottingham.
    â€˜So you want to become a Constable’s man?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Lister replied candidly. ‘My father came home for his dinner and said you’d been talking.’
    â€˜Did he say what about?’
    â€˜No, he didn’t.’
    The Constable smiled. ‘So why did you decide to come and see me?’
    â€˜I’m looking for work.’
    â€˜Your father knows people,’ Nottingham suggested. ‘There must be plenty willing to take you on.’
    â€˜He’d like me to work for him, but I don’t want to.’ The lad looked up sharply at the Constable, his eyes bright and thoughtful. ‘He told you that, didn’t he?’
    â€˜He did. But it doesn’t explain why you’re here.’
    Lister breathed deep and gathered his thoughts.
    â€˜I want work I’ll enjoy. Have you seen all the clerks and the shopkeepers? They look old before their time. I don’t want to be that way.’
    Nottingham smiled. ‘A young man’s thoughts.’
    â€˜Maybe,’ Lister conceded, then grinned impishly. ‘But that’s how it should be, isn’t it? I’m still a young man.’
    Nottingham laughed. He’d immediately warmed to Robert Lister. The lad seemed straightforward, not full of himself. Whether he’d do well in this job was a different matter, though.
    â€˜I’ll warn you right now, it’s hard work. The hours are long and the pay is low. It’s dirty, and it can be dangerous.’ He paused, waiting for a reaction. Lister nodded slowly. ‘How are you in a fight?’
    â€˜A fight?’ His face sharpened in surprise. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered after thinking. ‘I had a few at school, I suppose, but nothing since then.’
    â€˜It’s part of what we do. People get drunk and start a brawl. We have to stop it.’
    â€˜And put them in the cells?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜They’re through there?’ Lister gestured at the thick wooden door.
    â€˜The cells and the mortuary. If there’s a suspicious death the body ends up here. Have you ever seen a corpse, Mr Lister?’
    â€˜Only my grandfather,’ the lad admitted.
    â€˜It’s not the same thing, believe me.’
    â€˜No, I don’t imagine it is.’
    â€˜So why should I employ you, Mr Lister?’ the Constable asked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, watching the lad gather his thoughts.
    â€˜I’m willing to do what you need me to do,’ he began. ‘I’m not afraid of hard work or long hours. If other people survive on the pay, I can, too. I learn quickly. I can read and write; my teachers said I had a good hand.’
    â€˜As long as I can read it, that’s all that matters,’ Nottingham told him.
    The lad dipped his head slightly in understanding. ‘If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it. And if I don’t do it