THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3... Part 6.

A continuation of my book.

As always in the East-End in a bad time the rain pours unceasingly, drenching those who walked abroad and raising the stench of the nearby cesspits so the smell lingers and hangs to the throat and by the time Beth and Sam had reached the archway both were drenched to the skin and holding their hands up to their mouths.
The population of the arches and the burning fires seemed to have grown, the smoke seeking wherever it might to escape the walls which held it prisoner so that it swelled and mushroomed its mist till it was almost impossible to see further than a few hands depth. Moving deeper into the arch, they saw the spot where they once had their fire was now taken by others, who looked darkly at any approach so that Beth and Sam moved away.
John Cutter was into a game of dice, shouting the odds as he cupped and rolled the dice and was none too pleased at the disturbance when Beth demanded an answer.
“No!” he shouted without looking up from the game. “I aint seen Kilpatrick. Not in a while and nor am I likely to!”
Then as an afterthought he turned to Beth.
“Nor methinks will you or any soul be seeing him after the quicklime as eats into his body. Word has it he was topped yesterday morning by the hangman! He was strung high so I’m told up to public convenience by the bloody Tower for his guilt!”
Beth walked away, her face ashen with the news and the feeling of hopelessness shaking her body.    Sam followed her, somehow secretly pleased in feeling that he could now take charge of the family business.
“I propose I fancy to take matters into my own hands and follow in Kilpatrick’s footsteps. Not that I shall get caught. I will take small pickings and keep to easy targets he used with you.” he said as he hurried round to confront Beth.
“What are you saying, Sam?”
“I’m saying I know what Kilpatrick was up to.” shouted Sam, holding his ground.
“What are you talking about?” demanded Beth.
“I’m talking about you and Kilpatrick, both of you going and rolling the ‘Fancy-Dan’s’ who had an eye for you. Don’t you think I was not knowing what the likes of Kilpatrick and you were up to, with all those nights and whispering between you about the larks of catching the old dandies that had a fancy for you? I tell you Beth, I’m big and strong and can handle my end of the business.”
Beth threw up her hands.
“And have us both dangle from a rope’s end as they did to Kilpatrick? No Sam, not at all!”
“So where else are we to find five shillings worth, eh, Beth? Tell me that?”
“Get away from our fire!”
As they argued, they had moved closer to the warmth of a family’s fire and enraged the man. The man who shouted at them now rose from the fireside with his knob-stick raised.
“They will not let us get near their fires Sam so let’s set ourselves against the wall near the opening of the arch and that way we can think of what we are to do.”
The wind and rain of the night’s darkness still menaced the entrance to the archway so Beth and Sam moved up on the inside as far as they dared without upsetting others who had claimed their spot.
“So what are we to do?” asked Sam.
“What I propose.” said Beth coming from her thoughts. “Is to join the others in some Mudlarking. Let’s wait till the Mudlarkers leave here tomorrow, till the tide is out and then join them. We might be lucky and find some living expenses.”
“And if we don’t find anything?”
“If we don’t have the luck Sam then we’ll take up on your idea and look to rolling a Fancy-Dan.” replied Beth.
Sam tucked his chin into his chest, the smile widening as his hand fisted the clasp-knife.

 

They spent the rest of the night huddled up together with their backs against the wall, their collars pulled high to their necks and it was towards six o’clock the next morning when the Mudlarkers came out from the niches and crannies of the arch walls, hooting and hollering to each other that the tide was out. Beth woke to the stench of their passing and jumped to her feet when some tried to search her as she lay.
“The Mudlarkers are leaving, Sam. Wake up!” called Beth.
She shook Sam awake and stretched in the cold morning light.
“Come on, Sam!”
Sam blinked his eyes open to the unwelcome day and closed them again, seeking the warmth of sleep.
“Well I’m going.” said Beth, beginning to hurry out from the mouth of the arch.
“Wait Beth! I’m coming.”
Beth waited, her foot tapping with impatience as Sam came grumbling out from the arch and caught up with her as the both began to run, hurrying after the shouting Mudlarkers.