The Lights of London
now, eh, girl?’
    ‘No, not much.’
    ‘Where was this big house then?’
    ‘Mereworth.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘In Kent.’
    ‘Kent.’ Tibs wrinkled her nose. ‘South of the river.’
    ‘When I got thrown out of there, after I told the mistress her son loved me and they called me all these names, I just walked and walked until I came to that great big bridge over there. I walked right to it. Towards all the lights dancing on the water from the boats. They looked so pretty.’
    ‘That’s the trouble, girl, it’s the lights what attract us all. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first saw them. I’ll never forget that sight. And the noise! It made market day in Romford look like the vicar’s tea party. So many people.’
    ‘I’ve stayed around the bridge for almost a week. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.’ She lifted her chin and looked earnestly at Tibs. ‘I tried to get some money somehow. Asked everyone if they had work for me. But no one did.’ She turned her head away. ‘I even tried begging.’
    Tibs rubbed her shoulder. ‘Don’t upset yourself, we’ve all done it, love. When my mum went off like that, all I had was two farthings she’d left me folded up in a screw of old newspaper. I woke up in this filthy, horrible room in a court over in Whitechapel and she’d just vanished. I don’t know if I cried more because I was all alone or ’cos I had nothing but a sodding ha’penny to me name. I just hung about the market, hoping people would feel sorry for me. But it was useless. I made less than three ha’pence and had to spend the nights walking the streets all by myself.’
    ‘You were so young.’
    Tibs nodded. ‘Yeah, a baby really. Then I met this old girl. A pea sheller she was, working for the costers. Well,she smiled at me so kind, she even said she had a few coppers to spare to pay for a night’s lodging for me. Promised to take me to this place where I’d have a bed for the whole night, with clean sheets and a big feather bolster. I’ll never forget how grateful I was.’ Tibs shook her head at her own stupidity. ‘I’d fallen for the five-card trick, hadn’t I. The old bag had conned me.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘Instead of taking me to a common lodging house,’ Tibs explained, ‘she took me to one of the case houses off the Haymarket. One of the ones that specialises, if you know what I mean, in youngsters.’
    ‘A case house?’
    ‘It’s London talk for a knocking shop. A whore house? A brothel?’
    Kitty’s eyes widened. ‘But you were …’
    ‘Not quite seven years old. I didn’t understand all what was going on then, of course, I just knew it was wrong, her trying to get me clothes off in front of this old man.’
    ‘What did you do?’
    ‘I gave the old trollop such a kick she didn’t know what had hit her. Had it away on me toes and wound up under the railway arches with all the other urchins.’ Tibs flashed her pretty dimpled smile. ‘Like I say, not a lot better now, eh, Kit? Mind you, it was summer then. Warm. And a bloody sight drier than this poxy hole. And there was this boy who sold me a boiled trotter for a farthing.’
    Kitty couldn’t even remember what it was like being warm and dry, let alone having food in her belly. Her stomach rumbled loudly, as she imagined the luxury of gnawing on the fatty pink meat of a pig’s foot.
    ‘Blimey, girl, you sound just like Bow Bells ringing out. When did you last have anything to eat?’
    Kitty shrugged, sending a shower of dried mud from her bodice. ‘I can’t remember. A couple of days ago I think.’
    Tibs leaned forward and looked at the children slowly chewing their way through the tiger nuts. ‘I should’ve given them to you.’
    ‘No, they needed them more than me.’ Kitty wiped a hand across her clammy brow; she felt feverish. ‘I’m all right.’
    Tibs stood up. ‘But you’re not, are you? Just look at you.’ She put out her hand. ‘Now don’t argue, cocker, just get on

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