Dodger of the Dials (5 page)

‘I think you’ve mistaken me for a different sort, sir,’ she said in a kind tone. ‘A less particular sort.’

‘You’re a whore, aren’t you?’ spluttered the old romancer. He cast his eyes about to her companions and then back to Lily. ‘You’re all harlots. I could have the whole bunch of you if I offered a hundred pounds each.’

‘
Are
you offering a hundred pounds each?’ asked the canary dress with sudden interest.

‘Of course not,’ he replied as if she was mad. ‘But you would if I did, you stupid horse, so the rest is just haggling. Look here,’ he reached into his inside pocket and produced a brown leather wallet and showed it to Lily. ‘This is yours if you don’t mind working for it.’ It was thick enough to be stuffed with notes and Lily cocked her head to the side just an inch as if calculating how much was inside. ‘Not all of it obviously,’ he made clear. ‘But a fair amount.’

‘How much is a fair amount?’ she then asked and I grew fearful that the fat reprobate was going to win the night after all. But he reacted as though he was being led around in circles by the impossible woman.

‘That is the very question I’m trying to ask you!’ he huffed in exasperation and stuffed the wallet back into his pocket. Then he swung around to where I was standing and addressed me direct by pointing his own cane at my head. ‘Are you the bawd?’ he asked. ‘You’re dressed like a bawd. Try and rattle some sense into your
whore, why don’t you? I need to be home by ten.’ Lily opened her mouth in protest but I was quicker to answer that, yes, these girls did indeed work for me and I stepped over to where he stood before she or her companions could argue otherwise.

‘Look here, uncle,’ I said as I put my arm around his shoulders as if wanting to speak to him in confidence. I guided him out of view from the main street and under the shadows of the theatre front. ‘Peelers are on patrol and you’re making a proper fuss.’ The old gent grumbled something about how, in his day, you could approach anyone you liked in broad daylight and solicit them without being bothered by the wretched puritans. ‘Simpler days, my fine fellow,’ I nodded in sympathy, ‘I yearn for them also. But if you want to enjoy the exquisite delights of this gay miss,’ I pointed the silver tip of my cane over to where Lily was standing with her hands on her hips, a piqued expression upon her face and still flanked by her two friends, ‘then it may cost you more than you’re prepared to part with.’

‘What’s so special about her then?’ the old gent asked. ‘I’ve already made such an enquiry and am still waiting for her to name the price.’

‘To bed a woman like that,’ I told him but kept looking at her, ‘will cost you far more than you’ve brought out with you tonight.’

‘More?’ he exclaimed and pulled away from me. ‘God in heaven, you bold chancer, all I want is a quick trembler.’

‘The very problem,’ I returned and held a finger in the air like some professor about to explain to lesser intellects how the universe works. ‘Because if that is all you’re after, sir, then that is not what is for sale. Is it ladies?’ The girls either side of Lily exchanged a dubious glance as this was exactly the reason that they had set up shop and, as if to prove it, another silver-haired swain was approaching the one in the violet dress from behind and she
spun around so he could browse the goods with ease. But Lily held her eyes on mine and kept them steady.

‘No,’ she smiled. ‘There is more for sale than that.’

‘Indeed there is,’ I grinned and patted the puzzled old cove on the back. ‘There is her excellent company for starters, sir. You’ve never had such stimulating conversation than that which you’ll be enjoying with our dear …’ I gestured for her to enlighten me.

‘Lily,’ she said and curtsied again.

‘The enchanting Lily. Why, she’s very knowledgeable about all sorts of interesting subjects, sir. It’ll be an education for you I don’t doubt.’ The gent scrunched his face in displeasure but I ignored him and kept on. ‘And that ain’t all. For the main course Lily can serve up a wondrous array of delicious delights by way of her many accomplishments. Tell him about your many accomplishments, Lil!’

‘Well,’ she said and looked away all demure. ‘A lady doesn’t like to boast.’

‘Then let me do it for you, girl,’ I said and turned back to the gent. ‘Have you ever heard the sound of a nightingale, sir, singing alone on an otherwise soundless evening and thought to yourself that there was an angelic voice, cleansing our souls anew? Because that’s what comes to my mind whenever our dear Lily treats us to burst of her lungs. I won’t ask her to demonstrate now, sir, else they’ll all want her, but ask her to give you a tune when you’re alone later on and it’ll not disappoint.’ The old boy now looked to be in deep discomfort but I would not let him interrupt. ‘And should you desire, sir, as I have no doubt you will, to show off your purchase and have our cockney Venus accompany you to some high society ball or other lordly function,’ the old man coughed in horror, ‘then rest assured that she’s a beautiful dancer, sir.’ I turned back to Lily who seemed most delighted to have herself spoken about in such terms. ‘Ain’t that right, Lilybet?’

‘And don’t forget my pianoforte?’ she chipped in as if hurt by the oversight.

‘How could I?’ I marvelled. ‘After all you’ve told me about your childhood as the daughter of said instrument-maker. Do you know, sir,’ I whispered this next part as if it was some cherished secret what I only let out on sufferance, ‘that she learnt how to play these delicate tunes by her own ear and not by instruction as others do? That’s the depth of talent that you find yourself being offered this evening, sir. That’s what you’d really be making a possession of.’

‘And what if I don’t want all that?’ the old boy butted in with a leer. ‘What if I just want to head straight for the pudding?!’

‘Then what a pudding!’ I declared with excitement. ‘I was looking forward to bragging about this last thing. Shall you tell him, Lily, or shall I?’

‘Oh, let me!’ she pleaded with undisguised glee.

‘Then be my guest!’

‘Sir!’ she raised her profile then as if about to be painted. ‘It delights me to tell you that I am a whore …’ she held the pause and glanced my way, ‘… who can speak
seven different languages
!’

I took off my hat and threw my arms in the air in cheer. ‘Seven different languages!’ I cried for the whole of Haymarket to hear. ‘Did you ever hear of such a thing, sir? Of a lady of the night possessing such abilities? Tell him what languages they are, Lily, you brilliant strumpet!’

Lily lifted the fingers of her gloved hands as she ran through them. ‘French, Spanish, German …’

‘German!’ I whistled and nudged the punter’s elbow. ‘Which could come in good and handy should Prince Albert ever come to call!’

‘… and Portuguese. Those are the only ones I’m fluent in. But I
can speak to a fair conversational level in Russian and Italian.’ She then held up her seventh finger as if in apology for it. ‘The last, sir, is Arabic but I confess I know only a smattering.’

I clapped my hands together and remarked at the many amazing things you can pick up in a brothel if you’re quick and eager to learn. But the old gentleman looked as if he was about to topple over at any moment so I brought my proposal to a close. ‘So you see, sir,’ I explained, keen to impress my point upon him, ‘a woman like this is not for the quick jump. You don’t take a delectable creature like Miss Lily here up some filthy alley and press her against a garden fence. Oh no, sir, you treat her like a second wife or even indeed a first, if you’re not already married. You put her up in some fashionable apartment in a vicinity like – oh, I don’t know – Chelsea, and you visit her regular. You grant her an allowance with which she can adorn herself with the most glittering jewels, spray herself with the finest perfumes and entertain you, sir, in the most stimulating lingerie. All of which is for your pleasure sir, and not for hers. You take her out to dine, to dance, to be entertained. You want to be seen with her sir. So answer me this,’ I waved my hand with a concluding flourish, ‘do you still believe you can pay for all that with the contents of your wallet?’

The old gentleman looked long and hard and with due consideration at Lily who spun on her heels. He then made his one and final offer.

‘Two guineas, then,’ he grunted. ‘For one hour. But you can keep all the nonsense, I only want her to perform one trick.’

Then he named a special request what stopped Lily’s spinning fast.

‘Charming,’ she pouted and crossed her arms. She looked to me. ‘Are you really going to let me go under those conditions?’ she asked. ‘A whore of my standing?’

‘No, I will not, Lily, my dear,’ I replied and turned on the aged De Sade with venom. ‘Run along now, you disgraceful old walrus, before somebody settles you for insulting a lady! You can’t expect a respectable harlot to demean herself for just two guineas? What sort of sad and desperate wretch would ever consent to such terms?’

‘I would,’ piped up the girl in the canary dress. She had been listening to our conversation with interest and, to be fair, two guineas was a decent sum of money for one hour’s work. The other prostitute had left with her swain and there was a chance that this one would be left standing if she didn’t act. ‘I have a room two streets away if you’d like to, handsome,’ she said as stepping past Lily and towards the old gent. He looked relieved to have at last encountered someone with a bit of business sense about her and took her arm as she led him off into the night. The evening’s performance had been begun and so the Haymarket was now much sparser and Lily and myself was left alone on the pavement.

‘And you are?’ she enquired. I removed my hat again and bowed deep.

‘Jack Dawkins, miss,’ I said after I had done so. ‘And, if that name sounds somehow familiar, I should also tell you of the monicker I sometimes go by.
The Artful Dodger!
’

‘Never heard of you,’ she shrugged. ‘You in music halls?’

‘No, I am not,’ I replied as I replaced the hat. ‘But I do enjoy a certain celebrity in some localities if you ask the right people. But what is more important is that we are at last undisturbed and I am free to make you my offer.’

‘You’ve just talked me out of two guineas, Mr Dawkins,’ she said and threw a glance over her shoulder towards the old gentleman and her friend who was disappearing around the far corner. ‘So this offer of yours had better be good. Didn’t I just hear you speaking of dining and dancing, jewellery and the like?’

‘You did indeed and, should you be so lucky as to become my fancy woman, then I would rule none of that out. But – seeing how we’re just getting to know one another – how about we start with some supper and see how we get on? Nearby is a cosy little place I know what serves an eel pie and mash and I haven’t eaten all night. Why don’t you join me? They do a nice soup as well.’

‘Eels?’ Lily laughed in ridicule. ‘After all that and you just want to buy me a bowl of green for my favours. You’ve a fine nerve Jack Dawkins, I’ll say that for you.’

‘An oyster house then,’ I said and reached into my pocket. ‘And we can visit all the concert rooms and halls afterwards. But, in all truth, Lily, I don’t intend to pay for a single farthing of the evening’s fun.’

‘That right?’ she responded. ‘Well, if you’re think I’m going to pick up the expenses then you’ve come to the wrong tart. Listen, Mr Dawkins …’

‘Jack.’

‘Jack, then. You might be quite the sensation in your own vicinity but you need to understand something,’ she stepped close to me and spoke in a tone of warning, ‘I’m a Slade girl.’ I shrugged to show her that I did not know or care what that meant. ‘And one way or another,’ she continued, ‘you’re paying for a Slade girl.’

‘No, I am not, Lily,’ I said. Then I produced something what changed her countenance quick. It was the fat brown wallet what belonging to the old gentleman and it was as stuffed as a pigeon. ‘But somebody else will be. Now come along,’ I offered her my arm. ‘Let’s you and me go and have ourselves a very pleasant evening, shall we? And you won’t have to do a single thing you’re not inclined to.’

Lily laughed as I handed her the wallet so she could count the contents. ‘You know what, Mr Dawkins?’ she said at last as she took my arm after all, ‘I think I am in the mood for some of those oysters after all’.

Chapter 3
A Drop of Courage

Showing the criminal life to be a much harder way of life than it might first appear

The early afternoon cry of a rag-and-bone man woke me some hours later on that day when I had returned from Whetstone and I rolled over in my bed to go another round with Lily. She was not there however and I was still too sleepy to realise what that could mean. I closed my eyes again and returned to my dreams and it was some minutes later that I recalled that she still had the Lady of Stars around her neck.

I then pounced out of the bed and I looked around the room most frantic. The necklace was nowhere. Not on the sideboard, not back in my coat pocket, not on the chair. She had taken it.

‘Lily!’ I screamed as I hopped into some trousers and placed the braces over my shoulders and ran towards the window, hoping that I might still have time to see her making off across the courtyard. But, save for some kinchins what was throwing pennies against a wall, it was empty. I darted out of the room, putting on my coat as I did so and dashed towards the front door calling her name. I passed the other open doors of our apartment as I ran – glancing in quick to see if she was in either the kitchen or the parlour – and was so gripped with the thought of my loss that I did not pay any attention to the small puddles of water what I almost slipped upon in my hurry. So it was not until I was halfway down the
staircase and into the bottom part of the house that I at last heard Lily’s voice. It came from behind me, she was still in our crib and the relief was overwhelming. The puddles was from the water buckets what she must have brought in up from the pump outside which meant she was bathing herself. My jumpy bones steadied themselves and I went back upstairs before Mrs Grogan could ask us what the racket was.