Free Dodger of the Dials by James Benmore Page B
Authors: James Benmore
fiddles resumed and we took each other’s hands to spin as a circle of two, her eyes widened as she spotted something behind me. Every couple around began spinning but Lily would not budge, she just took root and continued staring over my shoulder. The joy of the dancing vanished from her face and, as I turned to see what had upset her, I assumed that the young gentleman whose pocket I had picked would be standing behind me ready for a rumpus.
But instead I found my attention pulled towards the shaded part of the tree where two men was eating cold meats from the same small plate and watching us close. One of these coves, who was chewing on some boiled tongue and whispering into the other man’s ear, was known to me. His name was Morris Bolter and he was someone what I had very little affection for. He was a restless, friendless person who was forever attaching himself toharder crooks and behaving toward them in a servile manner. He had arrived into London from the country around the same time that I had been transported to Australia although I had only met him upon my return. He had introduced himself by claiming that he had been present at my trial in the Old Bailey, saying that Fagin had sent him along to report on the sentence. He seemed to think that this information would ingratiate himself to me, but I rejected his advances of friendship as he had, to my trained eye, the stuff of the sneak about him. So I took no delight in seeing him here spying on me once more and whispering into the ear of a green-hatted stranger.
However it was this stranger, and not Bolter himself, what had made Lily start. It was clear at a glance that he was of the criminal class – we always know our own – but I could also tell from his rich red coat and stiff black hat that he was prosperous enough to be considered a top sawyer like myself. He was about ten years older than me though and was handsome and held himself well. He at first reminded me of Bill Sikes on account of the sense of threat what accompanied him but I revised that impression because Bill was a man for the shadows, he would never dress with such flamboyance and draw attention to himself like this.
This man saw me looking back as Bolter continued his whisperings and, as he lifted a morsel from the plate and put it into his mouth, I saw him give Lily a small nod of acknowledgement.
I turned back to her and saw the very real alarm in her eyes. ‘We should go, Jack,’ she said and tried to pull my hands to follow her in the other direction. ‘You know who that is?’ I stood there, still holding onto her hands in the centre of the dance as other couples spun around us. I then looked back to the men and saw that they had at last turned their attention away from us. Bolter was sniggering about something that this flash cove was saying.
‘It’s your old bawd,’ I said then with certainty. ‘Weeping Billy Slade.’
‘ Let’s go, then! ’ she said as she managed to free herself from my grip and stepped away. But I had no intention of being seen running away from a man with as fearsome a reputation as this Slade and so I remained where I was and continued to stare him down. I was about to tell Lily that we should continue to dance and that if Slade wanted to cut in then he would be given a polite refusal. But Lily had already spun around, was shoving her way through the other dancing couples, under the rope and away from the scene. So now I was in the centre of a rope-dance with no partner and I must have looked like a proper fool. I had no choice but to chase after her. By the time I caught up with her she was halfway through the fair and I grabbed her hand before she made for the exit.
‘Stop running, Lily,’ I told her. ‘I don’t know what grievances he thinks he still has with you, he’d never hurt you with me about.’ Once she was assured that Slade was not in pursuit she calmed herself and put her hand on mine.
‘But it’s you I’m most worried
But instead I found my attention pulled towards the shaded part of the tree where two men was eating cold meats from the same small plate and watching us close. One of these coves, who was chewing on some boiled tongue and whispering into the other man’s ear, was known to me. His name was Morris Bolter and he was someone what I had very little affection for. He was a restless, friendless person who was forever attaching himself toharder crooks and behaving toward them in a servile manner. He had arrived into London from the country around the same time that I had been transported to Australia although I had only met him upon my return. He had introduced himself by claiming that he had been present at my trial in the Old Bailey, saying that Fagin had sent him along to report on the sentence. He seemed to think that this information would ingratiate himself to me, but I rejected his advances of friendship as he had, to my trained eye, the stuff of the sneak about him. So I took no delight in seeing him here spying on me once more and whispering into the ear of a green-hatted stranger.
However it was this stranger, and not Bolter himself, what had made Lily start. It was clear at a glance that he was of the criminal class – we always know our own – but I could also tell from his rich red coat and stiff black hat that he was prosperous enough to be considered a top sawyer like myself. He was about ten years older than me though and was handsome and held himself well. He at first reminded me of Bill Sikes on account of the sense of threat what accompanied him but I revised that impression because Bill was a man for the shadows, he would never dress with such flamboyance and draw attention to himself like this.
This man saw me looking back as Bolter continued his whisperings and, as he lifted a morsel from the plate and put it into his mouth, I saw him give Lily a small nod of acknowledgement.
I turned back to her and saw the very real alarm in her eyes. ‘We should go, Jack,’ she said and tried to pull my hands to follow her in the other direction. ‘You know who that is?’ I stood there, still holding onto her hands in the centre of the dance as other couples spun around us. I then looked back to the men and saw that they had at last turned their attention away from us. Bolter was sniggering about something that this flash cove was saying.
‘It’s your old bawd,’ I said then with certainty. ‘Weeping Billy Slade.’
‘ Let’s go, then! ’ she said as she managed to free herself from my grip and stepped away. But I had no intention of being seen running away from a man with as fearsome a reputation as this Slade and so I remained where I was and continued to stare him down. I was about to tell Lily that we should continue to dance and that if Slade wanted to cut in then he would be given a polite refusal. But Lily had already spun around, was shoving her way through the other dancing couples, under the rope and away from the scene. So now I was in the centre of a rope-dance with no partner and I must have looked like a proper fool. I had no choice but to chase after her. By the time I caught up with her she was halfway through the fair and I grabbed her hand before she made for the exit.
‘Stop running, Lily,’ I told her. ‘I don’t know what grievances he thinks he still has with you, he’d never hurt you with me about.’ Once she was assured that Slade was not in pursuit she calmed herself and put her hand on mine.
‘But it’s you I’m most worried