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Authors: James Benmore

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‘I know, he’s a sweet boy, ain’t he just.’

‘But should I call you Mrs Dawkins?’ he said as if he had somehow offended her. ‘I see that the two of you are sharing lodgings.’

‘Oh no, Oliver, it’s still Miss Lennox,’ she said as she reached the landing and showed him what door the kitchen was behind. ‘He ain’t made an honest woman of me yet. And call me Lily. We’re all very friendly here.’

She opened the kitchen door and was ushering him through, but had not removed herself out of the way enough so he could enter without having to brush by her. She gave him the smile of her former profession as she did so and I could see that her forward
attitude was making him most uncomfortable as he stepped past her and into the now steamy room. He then looked around, at her and at me, at the fogles hanging from the line and at the pig meat at the end of my fork.

‘Sausages and bacon,’ he muttered with a distracted air. ‘Every time.’

‘Welcome, covey,’ I said in my most ingratiating manner. ‘Charmed to see you, my boy. There’s some breakfast going if you’re hungry for it and some coffee on the boil. Sit yourself down while I open a window.’

Oliver thanked me and took a seat around the table as Lily and I began fussing around him. He apologised for appearing here unannounced and I told him our door was always open to old school friends. I handed him his mug and plate.

‘I wanted to see you, Jack,’ he explained once we all began eating, ‘and so I paid a visit to the Three Cripples public house last night. They really ought to change the name of that establishment.’

‘I’ll have a word with the landlord if you’d like,’ I suggested. ‘I carry a lot of influence down there. Who gave you my address, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘George Bluchers,’ Oliver answered with a sigh. ‘I was pleased to see him actually, even though he does insist on calling me Ollie Poorhouse. Some of your other associates who didn’t recognise me weren’t being very helpful. Tell me, why do all your friends wear matching hats now? Every one of them had a green bowler on.’

I kept on cutting up my food, careful not to meet his eye. ‘That just means they’re part of my community, Oliver,’ I explained with a shrug. ‘The Dawkins men I call them. It’s just a bit a fun among some of the lads, you know. Don’t you worry about it.’

‘Well, there was one person in particular – a short woman who
was dressed like the others – and she became quite hostile when I asked after you.’

‘Don’t you worry about her, Oliver,’ Lily smiled and she reached over to pat his hand. ‘She’s all bark.’ Lily had not taken her eyes off him since he had entered and was as observant as I when it came to things worth having. ‘That’s a nice gold chain you’ve got dangling out of your top pocket there, Oliver. You want to tuck that away in case some dirty pickpocket runs off with it.’

Oliver did indeed have an interesting gold chain exposed and he reached for it with the same embarrassment that a man might display on being told that his trousers was not done up right. I had been quick to notice the chain myself when he had walked in the room and I could see from this and other tell-tale signs that he was earning more now than he was before I went to prison. I asked him what it was before he could tuck it away again.

‘It’s a locket,’ he explained and took it out then to show me. “With a picture of my wife in it. I like lockets.’

‘How nice,’ Lily said, as he put it away again. ‘You wasn’t married last time we met. She’s a lucky lady.’

‘There is a Mrs Brownlow now, yes, I’m delighted to say,’ Oliver said and he looked away from Lily as if he thought it wrong to mention his new wife while talking to her. ‘We got married in February. The ceremony was in a small church in the country where my mother is buried.’

‘It’s a pity,’ I said after taking a slurp from my own coffee ‘that I was in gaol then. Lily and I could have come and joined you otherwise.’ I winked at her. ‘You love a good wedding, don’t you, girl?’ Lily nodded and she too smiled again at Oliver who said nothing. Instead he just looked even more awkward and some
seconds passed before Lily and myself both burst into fits. ‘I’m only having a joke, Oliver,’ I said and slapped him on the arm in fun. ‘Don’t fret, we’d never show you up like that!’

‘Picture it?’ Lily giggled. ‘Us turning up to a nice wedding like his, with all his family wondering who we was?’

‘And him,’ I thumbed at Oliver, ‘having to introduce us to the bride? Oh, that is droll, I must say.’

We both chuckled some more while Oliver just sat there looking mortified.

After some more merry banter had passed between us, we at last finished our plates and Lily excused herself. ‘I’d better check on baby Robin,’ she said and she went over to a shelf in the kitchen to pick up his wooden toy.

‘You have a child?’ Oliver said, looking confused. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘He’s not ours,’ I explained, ‘he belonged to a friend of mine.’ Oliver looked troubled by the phrasing so I made it clear. ‘I don’t mean I
stole
him, Oliver. Give me some credit.’

‘Robin is the orphan of Mouse and Agnes Flynn,’ Lily explained and held up the little wooden toy. ‘This is Mouse,’ she rattled his gallows doll. ‘We keep him around as a reminder.’

‘And you two are raising him as your own, then?’ Oliver seemed impressed for the first time since he had been here. ‘Is that what you meant by community, Jack?’

‘Yeah, it is, I suppose,’ I said and pointed with my greasy knife at the wooden likeness of my fallen friend. ‘I was his top sawyer.’

‘And what does that mean?’

‘It means a lot.’

Once Lily had left us, and the door was shut, Oliver and myself could talk with greater ease. I sat back in my chair and waited for him to come to the point of his visit.

‘Jack,’ he began in an awkward manner. ‘I wanted to talk about what you said to me that time when I came to visit you in Newgate.’

‘Not again,’ I protested, failing to repress a yawn. ‘Slade has been hanged now, Oliver. It’s over. What more talking is there still to be done on the matter?’

‘Not that,’ he replied. ‘I mean, the things you said about me. About how you feel I was indirectly responsible for the destruction of your criminal family.’

‘Oh,’ I said and felt a shadow pass over me. ‘That.’

‘I’ve thought about Nancy and Fagin a lot since that night,’ he continued. ‘And I wanted to come here to tell that you that I can see that there is a strong chance that they would both still be alive if you had never taken me home with you all those years ago. And I’m sorrier for that than you can know.’

I did not know how to answer him at first. In truth, I had spent a good deal of time blaming him for the death of those loved ones and I had often wished I had never met the boy. But that was before he went to such lengths to help clear my name for Anthony Rylance’s murder, so I could no longer hold onto those sentiments now no matter how hard I tried.

‘Look here, Oliver,’ I said and leaned closer, patting him on the hand. My voice was almost a whisper as I hated saying this sort of thing. ‘Don’t go giving yourself a hard time over it. Bill Sikes killed Nancy and the state killed Fagin. But you was an aid to me in my most desperate hour and you saved me from the noose. I won’t be forgetting it any time soon and I’m in your debt now.’

‘Thank you, Jack,’ he replied and I heard him breathe out as he spoke. ‘I appreciate you saying that.’ Another silence fell between us and this one was broken by the sound of Lily singing a sweet lullaby from the other room.

‘So if you ever want something stolen,’ I offered as I got up to boil another kettle, ‘don’t hesitate to ask.’

*

Later, when I walked him down the steps of this house and back onto the streets of Seven Dials, I realised that we had talked about many people during his visit save for one. The person who he had worked hard to prove that I was innocent of killing was one of his few friends and it was only as we was about to shake hands and part company that he at last brought him up.

‘I miss Anthony terribly,’ he said out of nowhere. ‘I had wanted him to be best man at my wedding and I felt the lack of him on the day.’

‘I know what you mean,’ I said, meaning it. ‘Mouse Flynn’s loss was a deep cut for me too.’

I realised then what the real reason for Oliver’s visit was. He had come here because he was in grief still over the loss of his friend, and was looking to make a new one. That was why he had tracked me down to these new lodgings even if he himself did not know it.

‘Well, I had best be getting back to Wellington Street,’ he said after we had said our goodbyes. ‘There’s always something new to write about.’ He turned and walking away and had only walked a short distance before I whistled for him to stop. I let something dangle from my hand as he turned back to me.

‘Don’t forget the wife,’ I grinned as he marched straight back and snatched his gold locket out of my hand with a tut.

Once I had shut the door on him I wondered if our paths would ever cross again. We had always occupied different worlds – even before he became genteel – and I doubted he would be inviting me to his gentlemen’s club to play billiards any time soon. But this was a city of coincidences so who could ever tell?

When I returned upstairs I went into the bedroom where Lily was rocking little Robin Flynn to sleep in her arms. They looked a proper picture and I took off my shoes before crossing over so that the creaky floorboards would not wake him. The wooden doll of Robin’s late father was resting there on the bed and I picked it up and sat beside her.

‘He’s better than gold,’ Lily said, as she stared down at the sleeping Flynn, ‘and the image of his mother. Are we keeping him?’

I stroked the hair on this one-year-old’s head and wondered if that was such a good idea. In prison, during my lowest hour, I had questioned whether or not this Robin Flynn would not be better off without me in his life, getting him into trouble, teaching him dangerous tricks. I looked at the gallows doll in my hands, what was supposed to resemble Mouse, and wondered whether he would want me to keep his son to raise as my own or whether he would prefer it if I found him another place to grow up, away from my bad influence.

‘It’s like I kept telling his father, Lily,’ I said at last before placing down the Mouse doll and taking his baby from out of her arms and into mine. ‘It’ll be the genteel life for this little bugger. All will be just rosy.’

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Much of this novel was written in libraries and in particular I would like to acknowledge the reading rooms of the British Library which continue to be a tremendous writing space as well as providing a treasure trove of research material for the historical novelist.

Sincere thanks to everyone at Heron Books but especially to my patient editor Jon Watt for his invaluable notes and advice throughout the various stages of the writing process. His support was enormous.

I also very much want to thank my parents and the rest of my family for their ceaseless love and encouragement. I’m more grateful for that than I will ever be able to articulate.

Lastly, and as before, special thanks are reserved for Charles Dickens. In the incorrigible Jack Dawkins he created a character who has captured my imagination more than any other and I don’t doubt that his work will continue to inspire countless other storytellers for centuries to come.

Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Part One

Chapter 1 The Lady of Stars

Chapter 2 Sunrise Over Soho

Chapter 3 A Drop of Courage

Chapter 4 Thieves and Nothing More

Chapter 5 The End of Summer Fair

Chapter 6 The Undertaker’s Apprentice

Chapter 7 How to Sin

Chapter 8 Paul Bradley

Chapter 9 A Slade Man

Chapter 10 New Business

Chapter 11 Inky Fingers

Chapter 12 The Blue Lobsters

Part Two

Chapter 13 The Black Stage

Chapter 14 The Long and Forceful Punishment

Chapter 15 Mrs Dawkins

Chapter 16 Gallows Dolls

Chapter 17 Goodbye to Newgate

Chapter 18 ‘Oh! God Forgive This Wretched Man’

Chapter 19 The Many Ghosts of Newgate

Chapter 20 The Rum Mort Revealed

Part Three

Chapter 21 Under The Fleet and Above

Chapter 22 Streaky Well-Cured Bacon

Chapter 23 Execution Monday

Chapter 24 Strange Reflections

Chapter 25 The Morning Chronicle

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

BOOK: Dodger of the Dials
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