Free The Diamond of Drury Lane by Julia Golding

‘Come to see the big man, I s’pose?’
    ‘Of course. Why do you ask?’
    ‘I’s ’opin’ that you might’ve come to call on me and Joe, that’s all,’ he laughed. ‘Well, you can go on in . . . ’e’s almost done for the day.’
    They waved us through into the gang’s inner sanctum: the slaughterhouse at the back of the shop. We found Syd washing down the bloody block where many a creature met a sudden end, his blond hair flopping over his face as he scrubbed hard with a bristle brush. As all parts of the animal were put to use, the room was full of red-stained buckets containing every organ and cut known to man . . . from ox tongue to tail, as Syd would put it, guffawing loudly at his own wit. The place had that curious odour of sawdust mixed with the surprisingly sweet smell of carnage, a scent that hung round Syd even when he was away from home. He looked up and smiled when he saw me.
    ‘Well, if it ain’t our little ray of sunshine! How’s tricks, Cat?’
    ‘Good, Syd, thanks.’ I always felt comfortable with Syd . . . I’d known him so long that he was like the older brother I’d never had. Even as very little children playing in the streets, he’d looked out for me and taught me so many things.
    I introduced my companion. Syd wiped his palms on his blood-stained apron before shakingPedro’s hand, dwarfing the musician with his six feet of muscular body.
    ‘I ’ear you were quite the sensation last night, Prince,’ said Syd admiringly. ‘The ’ole market’s abuzz with it.’
    Pedro shrugged, but I could tell this was pleasant news for him.
    ‘And there’s more,’ I said quickly. ‘We have both been invited to a duke’s house!’
    ‘Whatever for?’ asked Syd, shooting me a concerned look. ‘You’re not going for scullery maid, are you, Cat?’
    ‘Of course not, you oaf!’ I snapped. I am the only one Syd allows to talk to him so irreverently. ‘We are to entertain Lady Elizabeth and Lord Francis.’
    Syd gave a snort of laughter. This was far from the awed expression of amazement I had been anticipating. He moved across to a sack of sawdust that hung suspended from the ceiling and gave it a punch with his calloused knuckles. ‘I can see what the boy can do, Cat, but what about you? Are you goin’ to give ’em a bit of your sharp tongue and show ’em ’ow to fight like a wildcat?’ He gave thesack a quick double jab. ‘That’s all you’re good for, ain’t it?’
    This fairly took the wind out of my sails. ‘I’m going to read to them . . . read a story I’ve written,’ I said quietly.
    Syd could see that he had offended me. He gave an appreciative whistle, hugging the sack to still its pendulum motion. ‘Now ain’t that just grand: a girl that can ’old ’er own in the market place ’oo can also read and write like a fine lady. I never knew you ’ad it in you, Cat. You’ll knock ’em dead, you will.’
    ‘Thanks, Syd,’ I said in a gloomy tone.
    Pedro could tell I was beginning to worry again about our visit to Grosvenor Square, so he changed the subject.
    ‘Tell me, Syd, how do things work round here?’ he asked, picking his way like a peacock across the sawdust in his shiny buckled shoes. ‘I met Billy Boil yesterday, but it seems I would have been better meeting some of your boys.’
    ‘Billy
Boil
?’ Syd gave a loud guffaw of laughter which attracted Nick and Joe in from outside. ‘You’ear that? The prince has met Billy
Boil
!’
    ‘That’s what Cat called him to his face,’ Pedro continued.
    ‘I like it!’ said Syd appreciatively, turning in my direction. ‘You called ’im that, did you, Cat? I bet ’e weren’t pleased.’
    ‘No, he tried to beat her up but she escaped him,’ Pedro explained.
    I would have made Pedro shut up if I could, but it was too late. I had had no intention of confiding in Syd, knowing the likely consequences.
    ‘’E threatened my Cat, did ’e?’ asked Syd, his blue eyes now cold with anger. ‘’E’ll