THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 2... Part 21.

A continuation of my book.

The street ruffians and ragamuffins stood around their fires, the women and children laying to the sides of the arch walls, cuddling and pulling up the old sacks and rags as they tried to keep the cold out. Mary stopped at the entrance to the arches to peer in at the ghostly scene of filth and poverty, hearing the coughs and cries of the children and the curses of the men. Walking into the mouth of the arches she saw Kilpatrick, tall and strong as he stood in front of his fire and poking at it with his boot. Threading her way through the rabble, Mary made her way to where the tall Irishman stood. The women against the walls eyed her but said nothing as she tapped Kilpatrick on the shoulder.
“You again?” he said, turning to face her. “I aint in the market for any more tatties.”
He opened his shirt and showed her his bare chest.
“See Missus, no tatties in there at all.”
“I have money.” said Mary, opening her hand and showing him the shilling.
“Well then, Missus, if you aint got hold of a bob bit for the spending? Hold it in a tight hand ‘cause there’s villains who will top you for that and no mistake.”
“I wanted to know if you can you take this shilling and buy some food for me and my children, getting yourself some into the bargain.” said Mary.
Kilpatrick laughed aloud.
“Larks love us, Missus. And here’s you putting trust in me. How are you to know I’m not as them up against the wall and liable to run away with your coin.”
“Because I have trust in you as I have trust in the good Lord above.” replied Mary.
Kilpatrick nodded and taking the money he inspected it minutely.
“It’s a long time since I’ve seen such a beauty and I’d better take care in me handling of it.” he said, bringing out a piece of cloth and wrapping the shilling then tying it tightly. “I shall be gone up to Spitalfields Market place to get some tatties and then to old Ma Kelly’s shop and get us some bits of choice offal for the roasting. You stay here and keep a sharp eye on me fire and that bundle of sacks by yon wall. If any of this rabble tries to take it over, you tell them that Kilpatrick is awful fierce on skulduggery and will deal harshly with them as tries a trick or two. There’s a tarry block or two under them old sacks there so you keep the fire in bright flame till I get back.”
With that the man walked away with long rangy steps and Mary watched as he disappeared into the crowd and the night. She coughed in some convulsion and spit into the fire then sat down on a piece of sack, daydreaming as she looked into the flames.

 

It seemed that Kilpatrick had been gone for ages. Mary had put more scraps of wood on the fire and one of the tarry blocks. Twice on occasion, men had walked up to the fire to look down on her before walking on. A women, dressed in rags and cuddling a small child to her breast asked if she might sit by the fire for a while. Mary pulled a piece of sack over from the bundle by the wall and set it down for the woman to sit on.
“Have you got anything to eat?” asked the woman.
“No. I have nothing.” replied Mary.
“Do you want to buy this young ‘un?” asked the woman as she held up the baby for Mary to see.
“She’s a good little ‘un and don’t make a noise.”
Mary stared closely at the limp bundle and realised the child was dead, wasted in the woman’s hands. Mary began to cry and the woman rose to wander off into the night and become lost among the night people.

 

“Here you are, Missus. Here’s a parcel as will have your tongue to tingling.” said Kilpatrick appearing from out of the crowd and kneeling by the fire to bring out a parcel from his shirt all wrapped in bloodstained paper. Opening the parcel, he spread it on the ground.
“A very fine mess indeed. Excellent vittles for the likes of us. There’s bits of liver, kidneys and a mess of lamb’s brain. And there, that is ox tail and some tongue. And all for a fine cost of three shiny pennies.”
Mary stared at the meat, not having seen such luxury in her life.
“I’ve been to the Abattoir’s in Winthrop Street, that’s why I was gone so long. And here’s some tatties, bought fresh in Spitalfields Market and there aint a bad ‘un among them. What with going all that way and dodging them ‘Bobby Dazzlers’ along the way. It seems there are more peelers these days patrolling the streets with their whistles and with truncheons swinging and looking for someone to cart off to the local jail. Anybody would wonder what it’s all coming to when a body can’t go about his lawful business, what with them busy-bodies about."
As Kilpatrick chatted away he skewered bits of meat and roasted them over the fire.
“There.” he said at last. “I’ve taken part for myself as you said to the deal and the rest of the meat and tatties is all wrapped up for you. You take them direct home to your young ‘uns and tell them Kilpatrick has done good for them.”
Saying that, he dug into a pocket.
“And here’s your change, Missus.” he said, counting out the pennies. “The meat was a good three-pence and the tatties was one penny, making it a round sum of four pence and giving you a return of eight shiny pennies as I’m counting into your hand.”
Mary took the money and counted out three pennies, offering them to him.
“Missus, I’m an honest man as I live. And I am much obliged by your natural goodness but you’ve already shared your meat and tatties with me so I aint into taking more of your coinage.”
Mary put the pennies on the ground by the fire and she clutched the parcel of food, secreting it into a fold of her blanket and left Kilpatrick as he continued to concentrate on eating, not bothering to lift his eyes.