"That poor girl," he said.
"She should be ashamed of her father, not mourning him. He was a pirate. He got what he deserved," his wife argued.
"He was still her father."
"If he was my father I'd disown him, or change my name."
"She's only ten years old. You know she has nowhere to go now, right? No known relatives, no money, no property."
"So? If she isn't willing to shame her pirate father she also deserves it."
"Don't you have any pity?"
"Never! He was a pirate for heaven sakes! Who could be sorry for him?"
"I meant for the girl," the man corrected.
"She's got the blood in her. I wouldn't be surprised if she turned pirate herself one of these days. You're just sorry because it's a shame on your business, having employed him for eight years."
"Yes, well, it's not like I knew what he was. He didn't have a brand and it was never obvious."
"Must it be obvious for you to see it at all?"
"Oh, and I suppose you knew all along?"
"No, but…never mind." The plump woman fumbled away into the kitchen, mumbling something to herself.
Mr. Davidson sat down on the couch and sighed.
I hadn't known where to go, and I knew Papa trusted his master. "Mr. Edward Davidson is a good man," he'd always say. So, I went to his house. They already knew about Papa when I got there.
When he opened the door he said, "Oh, hi, Jane. I'm terribly sorry about your father," He brought me into the house and gave me some tea. I sat in the kitchen and he and his wife went into the living room to talk. I could hear them well, and I couldn't help but listen. I didn't like his wife, though. She's fat and insolent. But I never said that aloud.
When she wobbled back through the doorframe she growled, "Are you done with your tea, yet?"
I nodded a "yes" and walked away into the living room. I didn't want to be around her. "Mr. Davidson, sir?"
"Yes, Jane?"
"I think I should go home now. I'm not sure I should have come here. I didn't mean to be of any trouble."
"No, there's no trouble at all. You're welcome to stay. Do you even have a place to sleep?" There was concern in his voice.
I shook my head. "Not if they don't let me stay at home."
"I'm afraid they'd have to send you out eventually. Without your father paying for it, you can't stay there."
I stared at my cold feet. There was no escaping reality now.
"I'll stay at home as long as I can," I answered.
"All right. Take care."
I nodded and walked out the door and back home. When I got back, government officials and property lawyers were surrounding the house. The investigators searched the house for a will and found nothing. He had not written one yet. The government people started talking about complicated things I didn't understand, so I went upstairs to my room. After a little while I decided to come out. When I stepped into the hallway, I could hear voices from another room also attached to the hall. I sat against the wall near their door and listened.
"She's got no family to speak of, no property or money; she has nothing. She doesn't have the rights to earn anything from here since there was no will, and so she has nothing. What she takes from here might as well be hers, but she won't be able to stay here. All the orphanages in London are full, too. She's orphaned and homeless, but I don't know how to tell her."
"She's only ten years old! There's got to be some place willing to take her in. She can't live on her own. She'd never survive!"
"There's nowhere. I mean, just curious, could you let her live with you?"
"I don't make enough money to feed six children, myself, and my wife. There's no way I could do it."
"See. That's almost exactly what everyone else would say. They don't have enough money to pay for another child. Who has enough money for anything these days?"
"There's no hope for her is there, then?"
"None."
"I hear she's a good thief and pickpocket. Perhaps there is hope for her. But who wants another homeless child on the streets, who'll turn into a criminal, anyway? There are so many reports and complaints. We can't just put her out there and say, 'You're a homeless orphan; you'll get used to it some day.' No. That would be terrible."
"Do we have a choice? You said yourself, she's got nothing left."
"Men, what are we to do?"
"Give her the house?"
"You know that's not legal."
"Isn't there something we can give her? We cannot have another thief on the streets. The police have a hard enough time as it is."
"Come on! There's nothing we can do. Laws in England clearly don't give many rights to ten-year-old girls, and who are we to change the law? She has nothing, and we have nothing to argue against that. Her father's fate was regrettable, but remember what he did. Although she has yet done nothing of the kind, you already stated that she is known for skill in pick-pocketing."
I couldn't listen anymore. These men were arguing about whether or not I could remain living in this house. In fact, they were arguing whether or not I could remain living at all. I really wished my father had written a will. And now it's the government's fault I became homeless. And orphaned? They couldn't have killed him already, could they? Papa used to tell me that they couldn't always be trusted, and now I understood why. "You must never let them catch you," he said. Don't trust them. Never let them catch you.