THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3... Part 5.

A continuation of my book

Beth spent days of comfort, taking Sam on long rambling walks of instruction and even daring to take a carriage once up to Hyde Park acting, as Sam said, all the world like a lady that the driver of the coach even tipped his hat at her and called her 'M’Lady'. The room was comfortable and warm, with a fire lit to purpose and blankets to the beds, while curtains draped a merry window which opened out to street-sellers and those who danced as they sold their wares.
Beth, while seemingly happy in her living, spent more time caring of Sam who grew taller and more demanding of his freedom each day. She was not settled in her life and fretted into the night, twisting and turning as she worried about their security. Kilpatrick, armed with drink and eager for high living was spending money as if there was a never-ending purse at his disposal. Sometimes he talked wildly in drink about hitting the ‘High Knobs’, who were easy targets and those who rode their smart mounts up in Rotten Row. He spoke of others, the smart set who roamed the ‘Heath’s’ up in Regent’s Park.
“They are a fine mark, Beth.” he would announce.
Such words would cause Sam to look at Beth for an explanation but Beth would purse her lips and say nothing.
“They would be the ones who has the finery and jewels, Beth.” he would ramble on before swigging the remains of a jar and falling onto the bed in a drunken stupor.

It was one early evening when Kilpatrick had arrived home, tired and dishevelled and very much the worse for wear and drink that he told Beth.
“Tonight we have to be in readiness, Beth. Let’s seek our luck in them places as I’ve talked about. We’ll have no more time in tickling those Fancy-Dan’s who only have a few bob’s worth of finery. It’s time for the rich pickings as I’ve long talked about. So get your best dress and shawl on and come along with me.”
“It’s best you lay down first and rest yourself. You’re in no fit state to go rambling.” argued Beth with misgivings.
“Just get yourself in readiness, young ‘un!” thundered Kilpatrick, nearly stumbling as he reached for the club which rested on his bed.
For the first time in her life Beth refused Kilpatrick’s request as she stood in the middle of the room, her eyes bright with defiance.
“You get ready as to come along with me girl or I swear I’ll…” growled Kilpatrick, his hand threatening on the club.
“If you touch my Beth I’ll kill you!” shouted Sam, suddenly springing from the bed, the knife out and pointed at the drunken man.
“Then stay, damn you! Both of you will starve if nothing else!” shouted the enraged Kilpatrick, staggering from the room and slamming the door shut.

That was the last time either Beth or Sam ever clapped eyes on Kilpatrick.
“What are we to do Beth?” had whispered Sam.
“We’ll do whatever we have to.” replied Beth, staring at the closed door.
“Perhaps he’ll come back.” said Sam, going to the window and drawing the curtain to peer out into the street below.
“And perhaps he won’t. Come on Sam. Come to the table and I’ll make something to eat.

For the next few days, Sam spent the time wandering from the bed to the table then from the table to the window while Beth waited for the knock on the door from the landlord.

Old Levistien came on the morning of the fourth day.
“Where’s Kilpatrick?” asked the old man, trying to peer through the doorway.
“He’s had to go away to work in a fine place and will be coming back soon with the rent and plenty more.” answered Beth.
“I’ll be on this door tomorrow and wanting the month’s five bob’s worth or I’ll be calling the law to deal with you.” declared the landlord, after blowing a large bulbous nose on a red-spotted handkerchief.
“We shall have your money!” shouted Sam, rounding Beth and standing defiantly.
“I’ll be dealing with Kilpatrick tomorrow, not with the likes of a whippersnapper!”
Saying that Old Levistien loudly thumped his way down the stairs and out of the street door, slamming it in a final closure.
“He’ll be seeing the sharp end of my knife.” said Sam, staring out of the window as the small form of the landlord continued his walk down the street.
“I wish you wouldn’t be talking in that way, Sam. The older you get is the more in fighting talk you become. It’s not good to have dark thoughts all the time.”
“What Beth? And have our water stirred like our mammy, who had such dark treatment from others. You forget the spite from those Night-Girls who were once her friends and then spurned her in ill-health and weakness. I’ll never be weak and will give them all their comeuppance once day. You take note of my words, Beth. One day I will come with a reckoning for them!”
As Sam spoke his face twisted in its spite, his eyes dark with malice. He jabbed at his flesh with the knife, the point tested on a thumb and drawing blood.
“You take note of me words.” he muttered, sucking on his thumb and spitting out the blood on the floor.
“Enough of that, Sam!” said Beth sharply. “We have enough to give the collywobbles right now.”
“So what’s to be done, Beth?”
“I reckons we ought to be away from here for a while or else Old Levistien will have us face the law. We need to find our feet and get some money first.” replied Beth.
“But Kilpatrick might come back, Beth. How would it look if we are not here if he does come back?”
“No, Sam. He would have been back by now and saved us. I reckon the drink has got him good and he won’t be back.”
“Where do we go then?”
Sam’s voice was reproachful, feeling that as the man he should be taking charge.
“I reckons we should go and see if we can find him, that’s me reckoning.”
“Where do we look for him? If he’s gone, he’s long gone by now.”
“Let’s wait till it’s dark and creep away from here.” said Beth. “We’ll go down to the archway and see if he’s has gone back there.”
“And if he isn’t there?” demanded Sam.
“If he’s not thereabouts then we ask John Cutter, him as sells the gin. He’ll know where Kilpatrick is, especially if he’s hiding from the law.” answered Beth sharply, beginning to become angry with Sam’s reticence to be agreeable to anything she said.