She sighed and, using all her determination, focused on falling asleep.
Chapter 3: I'm Not the One
"… asleep on the couch, Bill, my dear," Nancy heard Fagin say. She wanted to turn over and look at them, but thoughts of Fagin's plan impeded this idea and she remained still.
She heard Bill mutter an oath. Fagin followed it up with a comment about " not waking the boys at this early hour". Nancy heard Bill's heavy footsteps come in her direction. He stopped by the couch and poked her in the ribs. Nancy didn't move. Bill poked her again. Nancy sighed 'in her sleep' and snuggled deeper into the hard upholstery. Bill stepped back and, deciding that Nancy was still under the stupor caused by alcohol, sighed.
"Yer can send 'er over later – I don't want ter deal with 'er right now. I'll make sure 'at she don't do this again-"
"Bill, my dear!" Fagin interrupted causing Nancy to smile into her arms. "She's only drunk because she was so worried about you. You know that she hates it when you go on these excursions… always worried you might get caught, hurt, or killed…"
Bill let out a sigh. He paused and then, after looking hard at Fagin, exited the apartment.
Nancy lay still for a minute and then raised her head out of her arms, grinning at Fagin, who was also smiling.
"I hope that was successful, Nancy, my dear."
Nancy gave a stealth grin. She slowly stood up, straightened her dress, and then glanced over at Fagin, who was now engrossed in studying the kitchen table. After running her hands through her hair a few times to get out any tangles, she approached Fagin purposefully. Whey she was about a foot away from him, he glanced up at her. She gave him a coquettish smile and leaned towards him. Fagin pretended to ignore her just to see how far she would go to get his attention, but Nancy wasn't one to play games. She swiftly grabbed Fagin's arm and pulled him to face her. She pressed her lips against his in a fiery kiss.
Fagin and Nancy relished the kiss for a moment before Fagin pulled away slowly, backing into the kitchen table as he did so. He looked briefly into Nancy's eyes and then redirected his attention to a wall on his right.
"Ah, my dear, look at the time!"
Nancy glanced uninterestedly at a clock on the wall that read 5:28. She refocused on Fagin. Slowly she made her way towards him and stopped once she was close to him. Raising her head a little, she looked into his eyes. She lifted her hand and softly placed it against his cheek. Her fingers trailed down the side of his face and neck, eventually resting at his collarbone. Her lips gradually moved closer to his.
"Nancy, me dear," Fagin spoke suddenly causing Nancy jump back few inches. After a moment, she relaxed against him and sighed.
"I think," the old Jew said slowly, "I think that perhaps… it might be unwise to…" Fagin paused as he searched for the right words to convey his thoughts to her, "it might be unwise for us to yield so strongly to these feelings lest our faces should give way to such looks – in front of Bill or the boys – as would show our… fondness for each other." Fagin ended his speech on a note of grave satisfaction. Slowly he turned so that his back was facing Nancy.
Nancy stared irritably at his back. He was the one who had started it after all! She took a few deep breaths and smiled to herself. Why was she getting upset? She knew how to get men to forget all about being practical!
Nancy wrapped her arms around his waist smiling serenely. He glanced back at her and she fluttered her eyelashes, hinting her thoughts with every look she bestowed on him.
Fagin faced the wall again and rolled his eyes, a smile playing across his face. What had he started?
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Nancy waved and smiled at Fagin. She couldn't help but keep glancing back at him as she made her way to where Bill was located. She looked back a third time and saw that, in the doorway where Fagin had been standing, there was now just a cold-looking door. Her smile dropped slowly into a look of reflection. She wandered in the direction of her home, lost in thought. Her mind played through the events of the night. It was hard to believe that all of this had happened in a time frame of about eight hours. Glancing around her, she noticed the glow that was growing in the east, barely penetrating the dense fog; the sun would be up soon. Nancy yawned slowly, her eyes squeezing shut as she did so. When they opened, she found that her home was in view. She picked up her pace.
Once she arrived at the door, she stood there for a moment and then knocked – she still didn't have her key.
"Bill! It's me! Nancy!" she called through the door.
After a moment, she heard shuffling sounds, then heavy footfalls. The door swung open before her and Bill was stood in front of her, a lone silhouette as the firelight glowed around his large form.
"Hello, Bill!" she said smiling brightly. She squeezed past him. The door echoed closed behind her and Bill followed her sluggishly. He lowered himself back into a chair that was before the fire. He withdrew a long clay pipe from a large pocket in his coat. After inserting some tobacco, he lit the pipe and inhaled thoughtfully. He stared steadily at Nancy, who stood before him. Briskly, he removed the pipe from his mouth and spoke.
"What are yer starin' at?!! Get me some ale!" Bill growled his order moodily and gazed at the fire.
Nancy did not hesitate; she walked to a small cabinet and removed a bottle containing some amber liquid.
"How did work go, Bill?" Nancy asked sweetly.
"How'd it go?!!" Bill stormed. "You'd a known that if you'd a been waitin' here for me an' Toby like yer supposed ter!" Bill replaced his pipe in his mouth.
Nancy's lips tightened into a thin line. Guilt slowly etched across her face.
"Bill… I'm sorry…"
"Sorry?!!! Me an' Toby were out working and you were over at the devil's gettin' drunk!"
Nancy's face contorted into a look of anger at this horrible description of Fagin. She waited a few seconds before responding, hoping that her anger might subside. She opened her mouth to speak, but, after thinking it over, closed her mouth defiantly. It didn't matter what she said on the subject; Bill would still be angry with her and she didn't need to provoke him.
"Hungry?" she asked as she handed him a glass of ale.
Bill swore loudly, indicating that he was indeed hungry. Nancy, getting the message, quickly set to preparing his breakfast.
About fifteen minutes later, Nancy approached Bill, carrying a tray of food.
"Here you are, Bill," she said warmly.
Bill, after glancing at the food and being unable to find anything wrong with it, grunted his thanks. He quickly lifted the roll to his lips and devoured it. Bullseye, who had been sleeping at the foot of his master for the past half-hour, rose and blinked slowly at his master, denoting that he, too, was hungry. Bill glanced at the dog. He tore off a piece of meat and threw it roughly in front of the dog. Having satisfied the dog for the time being, Bill commenced his dining.
Nancy stood before the fire, warming herself as she ate at a small, buttered roll. Bill looked slowly up at her. Nancy, not noticing, continued to stare into the fire. Bill looked down at his plate and, after picking up some meat and chewing it thoughtfully, looked back over at Nancy. Where she stood, the flames reflected in her eyes and made her skin glow golden.
Bill's plate was now empty. Applying himself to the ale one last time, he drained the glass, then stood up purposefully.
Nancy clasped her hands tightly before her, her body tense with something that preoccupied her. Bill, ignoring these obvious signs of distraction, walked up behind her and gripped one of her arms tightly. He swiftly pulled her to face him. Nancy was taken by surprise and stared uncomprehendingly up at Bill. After a moment, she relaxed and looked calmly into his eyes. Bill pushed her roughly ahead of him and into a small room off the main one.
Nancy's body tensed; she knew exactly what Bill was up to – he had done it many times before. She felt Bill shove her onto the bed. Her heart rate increased, but not for the same reason it usual would have. She felt the bed bend under Bill's wait as he settled next to her. Bill ran his fingers down her causing her body to shake and flinch. She shrank back from him. While Bill wasn't used to Nancy playing hard to get, but he didn't really mind. Nancy felt his tight grip on her. Fight as she might, she wasn't going anywhere. He pressed his lips against hers, allowing his hands to wander freely to wherever they fancied…
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Nancy sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. She heard Bill moving about in the kitchen and hugged herself tightly. She thought of Bill's hands touching her and she trembled violently. Nancy was surprised by her response. She had never responded that way before when Bill had touched her. She bit her lip in thought. Slowly, she stood up and retrieved her dress from the floor where it had unceremoniously been thrown. Shakily, she pulled the dress on. Her fingers ran slowly over each button, closing the dress. She walked over to a full-length mirror and stared at her reflection. She was perplexed as her eyes fell on the pale face that stared back at her. She swallowed hard and set to fixing her hair. After she completed this task, she prepared herself mentally for going into the kitchen where Bill was. Her resolve hardened and she held her head up high. She stood up stiffly and turned to face the door. Abruptly an image of Fagin flew into her mind. She longed to here his soothing voice and to be in his warm embrace! A loud curse exhibited from the kitchen causing Nancy's mind to return to Bill. She took a shaky step forward and then stopped.
"I'll see Fagin tonight!" she promised herself.
Determinedly, she walked forward and entered the kitchen where Bill stood.
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Nancy sighed as she placed the last of their five spoons into the kitchen drawer. She turned slowly and stared steadily at Bill who was sitting in front of the fire, smoking contentedly. She glanced at a clock on the wall that read 7 o'clock. Nancy dropped the kitchen towel down on the counter and walked swiftly down the hall. Bill glanced up at her retreating figure before returning his eyes to the fire. A few minutes later, Nancy reappeared wearing a shawl and a bonnet. Without looking at Bill, she addressed him.
"I'm going out." Her hand touched the doorknob just as she felt Bill's tight grip on her arm.
"Where?" he growled in her ear.
"Out," Nancy said shortly.
"Yer don't talk ter me 'at way! Where are yer goin'?"
Nancy stared pensively at his furrowed brow and his eyes that seemed to meet in the middle of his head. She noted the large grouping of wrinkles that had formed on his forehead. Carefully, she answered him.
"I'm going to Fagin's."
"What are yer goin' over ta' 'at devil's for?!!!"
Nancy squinted slightly and shrunk back from Bill as his voice rang loudly in her ears.
"I just wanted to visit-"
"Visit! No yer not! I might need yer! What's the use of a girl if she ain't 'round when yer need 'er?!!!"
Nancy shrunk back even more as his voice boomed at her. Bill, who was still gripping her arm tightly, jerked her back towards him and glared directly in her eyes. He spoke in a deathly whisper, shaking her as he pronounced each word.
"Yer stayin here with me an' yer not visitin' Fagin." He dragged her over to the kitchen table and pushed her into a chair before settling down in the seat next to her. He released his grip on her arm and resumed his thought-filled smoking. Nancy watched him for a moment, letting her eyes fall occasionally to her lap. Swiftly she stood up and ran, reaching for the door handle. Bill emitted a yell as she stood up. He was quickly at her heels. She pulled the door open and ran hurriedly into the smog. Bill reached out to grab her, but she was too quick for him. He stopped in the doorway and glared after her. His hand automatically explored his pocket. Pulling out his pistol, he aimed it at the small glimpses of Nancy that his eyes caught. He heard the gun click as his finger pulled back on the trigger. He stood there for a moment, gun aimed, waiting for his finger to loose the bullet. Bill glared at the street and his arm and hand began to shake. He told himself to shoot her; she was no good after all. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and his heart beat fast. The realization finally sunk in that even if he could get himself to shoot, she was out of the bullet's reach. Slowly, he lowered the gun and, after fixing the safety, returned it to his pocket. He looked at the street one last time before turning and going back inside the apartment.
Ugh! I hated writing that horrible part towards the middle about Nancy and Bill! ((shudders)) Thanks Elaine Dawkins, Broken Amethyst, and Red-Cherry-Flowers! Please review!