THE DEPRIVED...Part 15.

A continuation of my book.

Ben Sturly shook his head before lifting the brown bowler hat from a shaven head and scratched at it before replacing the hat and answering Michael’s question.
“No mate, we don’t need men. To be honest there’s thousands of men looking for work. Some even skilled tradesmen who are taking on anything for a few coppers.”
Michael was tired. He had tramped the streets of Whitechapel, seeking work as a labourer wherever he went and found no-one who would employ him. This was the last resort, seeking anything which was on offer and this had led him to Ben Sturly, a man reported to be the one who had a finger in every pie. He had the ears of the street according to those who had spoken of him.
“There is one job I know of that has an opening for a strong man.”
Michael had begun to walk away when Ben Sturly said these words.
“I’ll take anything that’s going!” said Michael, coming back.
“There’s a contractor named Jed Riley. He lives towards Mile End way, in Milford Street. He runs a wastage disposal run and is always on the look-out for a Hole-Man.”
“I don’t care what the job is. I just need work that will keep my family alive.”
The information and the sketched map which would take Michael to the door of Jed Riley cost Michael three pence but it would be money well spent and Michael made his way through the Whitechapel High Street, continuing his walk until he reached Mile End and found the home of Jed Riley.
“So you want a job?” said Jed Riley, a swarthy man with a face pitted by acne scars and a cleft lip which caused him to give off a short whistle as he spoke.
“I’ll take whatever’s going.” affirmed Michael. “I don’t care what it is.”
“It’s true. I do need a Hole-Man. Did Ben Sturly tell you what the job is?”
Michael shook his head. It did not matter what the job was as long as it paid a wage and Michael said so.
“It’s night work, from twelve at night till six in the morning. It’s tough, hard work and there’s no stopping, no breaks for smoking or drinking.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll do it!” confirmed Michael.
“Well you look strong enough. And I’ll give you a trial for the week. I won’t pay, bear that in mind, if you can’t finish a shift. I pay good money and want a good return. It’s three bob a week and that’s seven nights a week’s work. If you want the job then be here at twelve o’clock tonight and I’ll have you meet Big John.” said Jed Riley.
Michael walked home with a confident step and stepped into the room with a wide smile.
“Mary sweetheart, I have a job which starts tonight at twelve. I’ll eat a bit now and then it’s best I lay my head down and get some rest while you take the children out and buy some food and whatever the children and yourself need. Be careful of the pick-pockets and cut-purses in the market streets. I’m told they look out for new-arrivals who are not wise of the East-End.”
Beth and Sam stood at the table as Michael ate, begging him with questions about his work and what the people were like.
“Come on children. Leave your father in peace. We can go out to see where the market is.” said Mary.
Kissing Michael on the cheek she set out of the house while Michael lay on the bed and was soon asleep. He was still asleep when Mary and the children arrived home again, with bags containing some groceries and items for the home.
“Shush!” warned Mary in a whisper. “Let your father sleep. He has to work all night and needs the rest"
At eleven o’clock that night, Michael set out to retrace his steps, making his way back to Jed Riley’s house and it was outside the house that he first met Big John. As the name suggested, Big John was a brute of a man, tall and muscular with a dark brooding face and dark menacing eyes which never seemed to look straight at anything, seeming rather to glance sideways, as if Big John never liked to show his feelings or have his eyes betray his thoughts. Here, thought Michael, was a dangerous man.
Big John was sitting at the reigns of a large carriage, which had four tall sides to it that closed the back in like a box. The cart was pulled by two black shire horses.
On seeing Michael arrive Big John climbed down from the cart and scowled.
“You’re late.” he said.
He smelt of cheap beer and tobacco.
“Climb into the back of the cart.” he said, pulling off the ladder which was hooked to the side of the cart and placing it against the back of the cart. Michael climbed into the back of the cart and dropped down to see he had joined another three men who stood hidden by the dark. The cart began to move as Big John cracked his whip and the four men in the back sat down as the cart jerked forward. The smell in the cart made Michael queasy, a more powerful stink than any other he had smelt before.
“I’m Joe.” said one of the men, leaning over to offer a hand.
Michael shook the hand not being able to make out the man’s features.
“I take it you’re the new Hole-Man.”
Michael admitted he was.
“I’m your Rope-Man. I’ll try not to drop any of the crap on you.”
Joe’s words brought a chuckle from the other two men.
“These here men.” continued Joe. “Are Lemmy and Vincent. They are the Tub-Men.”
Michael greeted them, still unsure exactly what the job entailed and who these men were.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing as a Hole-Man.” he said.
Just as he spoke, the sound of a bell began to peel out and the cart pulled up.
“That’s bleeding Big John ringing his bell to let anyone know the Night-Soil men are coming.” informed Lemmy.
“The Night-Soil men?” inquired Michael.
“That’s what they call us. We clean the body soil and waste out of the cesspits.” explained Vincent in broken English.
The bell continued to peal, ringing its news out into the dark.
“So what does the Hole-Man do?” persisted Michael.
“Don’t worry.” replied Joe. “There’s no skill in it. I lower you down into the cesspit on a rope and you shovel the crap into the tubs. Then I bring the tubs up and the two men here, Lemmy and Vincent, take the tubs and fill the cart up. That’s why the cart stinks. Then when the cart is full we all have to walk and go with Big John. He takes the stuff off to the farms out yonder and we spread it as manure. It’s easy, see? There aint no skill to it.”