Just wanted to give some love to Honkytonkangel, who's left a review on every chapter so far which has been very lovely, so thank you very much! Sorry for it being a bit of wait for this chapter… I've been pretty busy lately and struggled finding inspiration *but* I hope you enjoy it all the same.
~ CHAPTER 7 ~
Nancy was wrenched awake by the sound of a morose whining, the source of which appeared to be a handful of inches from her face. She flickered her eyes open and flinched as the wet, brown eyes of Bullseye gazed back at her.
'Good morning,' she mumbled flatly.
Bullseye responded by panting and giving Nancy an affectionate lick on her cheek. She groaned and wiped it away with her sleeve, rolling over and nearly squashing Bet in the process. A muffled squeak emitted from under the covers and Bet emerged, bleary-eyed.
'The dog's hungry again,' Nancy explained, rolling back over and heaving herself upright. She winced as she did so; her ribs were still tender and the movement made them twinge in protest. Bullseye sat back on his haunches and cocked his head to one side, lifting one front paw and then the other. Nancy watched him and thought that if dogs were capable of such expression, he'd have his lips pursed in impatience.
'Is there any stew left?' Bet muttered, her face planted resolutely in the pillow.
Nancy got out of bed with great reluctance and pattered over to the stove, where a large pot sat. She peered into it and gave the measly remains of beef stew an uncertain stir with a nearby wooden spoon.
'There's a tiny bit. It'll have to do.'
She reached for a bowl, still dirty from dinner last night, and scraped the last of the stew into it. She set it down in front of Bullseye and he fell upon it, his head moving the bowl around the room as he furiously devoured every morsel.
Bet heaved herself out of bed and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She walked over to stand next to Nancy and the two of them watched Bullseye with wide eyes.
'What are we going to do with him?' Bet asked, repeating her question from the night before.
'I'll take him to The Three Crowns later on. They know him there.'
Bullseye lifted his head up to meet the girls' gaze, licking his lips. He looked between his bowl and Nancy several times, as if expecting more food to appear.
'That's all there is, pooch,' Nancy whispered with a sympathetic shrug, crouching down and holding out her hand to him. He trotted over and she stroked him, tutting as he whined quietly. He sniffed at her dress, nuzzling in her pockets and dropping his head when he found nothing. Nancy sat cross-legged and he lay down with his head in her lap, letting out a disgruntled sigh.
'Where's he been all this time, do you think?' Bet wondered aloud, sitting down next to Nancy and patting the dog gently. 'It's been nearly a week since…'
Nancy bristled and twisted her mouth, 'I don't know. He must have scarpered when…' she faltered, biting her lip against completing the sentence. Bet patted her shoulder, as she had done with Bullseye, and Nancy inhaled deeply. 'It's one of the last things I remember seeing before – um. Bloody hell,' she cursed as her voice wobbled and her eyes prickled, 'He was scratching at the door. Trying to escape.'
Bet wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders, cradling her head in the crook of her neck. 'Sorry I asked,' she murmured.
Nancy wiped her thumbs under her eyes, sighing. She scratched Bullseye behind his ears and he burrowed his head further into her lap in response.
'Do you fancy going out? I could do with some fresh air,' she asked Bet, her voice tense. Bet nodded with a smile and stood up, holding out her hand to help Nancy to her feet. Bullseye stood, panting, looking at the girls expectantly.
'Come on, old dog,' Nancy sighed.
The bells struck nine o'clock just as the girls left the lodgings. Deciding against going to the market, they ventured in the other direction, arms interlinked and heads tilted towards one another, walking in companionable silence. Bullseye trotted at their heels, sometimes brushing against their legs and sometimes pressing his nose to the floor in search of food.
Nancy watched as a magistrate cycled alongside them and twisted her mouth in contemplation.
'Where did you say they were holding Fagin?' she asked Bet, still looking after the magistrate as he sped off out of sight.
Bet glanced at Nancy, surprised at the question, 'Newgate,' she answered.
'How long?'
'Hm?'
'How long has he got?'
Nancy voice was shaking and Bet stopped walking to take her hands in her own.
'He was sentenced while you was in Bart's. I didn't know whether to tell you or not. I -'
'How long has he got?' Nancy repeated steadily, looking down and frowning.
'The day after tomorrow.'
Nancy shivered and felt an emptiness in the pit of her stomach; the emotion which fuelled it was one she couldn't define. She squeezed Bet's hands and sniffed, bringing her eyes up to meet the girl's gaze.
'It's not far from here, is it?'
'Nancy, are you sure?'
'It's not far?'
Bet scoffed quietly at Nancy's stubbornness and turned her head towards the direction they were headed. 'No, it's not far.'
Nancy nodded firmly and set off, clicking her fingers at Bullseye for him to follow her. Bet scampered after her, struggling to keep up. She clutched her shawl around her shoulders with one hand, and the other was used to propel herself forward into a run as Nancy sped off through the streets. She cursed under her breath as she caught her up.
'What's the rush, Nance?' she cried in exasperation.
Nancy didn't reply. The pair of them kept running, followed closely by Bullseye, until they reached the formidable stone walls of Newgate Prison. They slowed down, breathing heavily and leaning against the brickwork.
'Nance, what are you doing?' Bet asked, her question punctuated by heavy pants as she fought to get her breath back.
'I need to see him,' Nancy said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She leaned off the wall and made her way to the cavernous archway which marked the entrance to the prison, craning her neck up to scan her eyes over the building. Bet shook her head and followed after her, but was halted by Nancy turning to face her and holding her hands up.
'Bet. Bet, I need to be alone,' she said quietly.
'You want to go in here by yourself?' Bet questioned in disbelief.
'I'll be fine. You wait here with the dog.'
'But -'
'No. I won't be long, I promise.'
Nancy gave Bet's hands a quick squeeze and walked through into the prison courtyard. She noticed a guard nearby and approached him, feeling her heart beating in the top of her mouth. The guard slid his eyes over to scan her up and down as she moved to stand in front of him.
'Um. Excuse me,' Nancy began, looking at her boots.
'What?' the guard barked. Nancy flinched.
'I want to visit someone. Where's Fagin?'
'Fagin? Why?'
Nancy winced as she struggled to think of a response which wouldn't immediately paint her as a crook.
'I'm a – I'm a friend.'
'A friend?'
'Please, can I just see him?'
The guard scanned his eyes over the girl again and then shrugged. 'I suppose,' he grumbled.
He marched towards one of the wings of the prison and Nancy scuttled after him, gripping her elbows. She watched as he unlocked a door with one of the thick keys on his belt, grinned at her, then slipped inside.
The sight which met Nancy's eyes as she followed the guard inside made her shudder. It was dark, musty, crowded and noisy; a sickening reminder of where she'd end up if her good fortune ever wore off. The guard led her past the cells, occupied by shrivelled shells of men. Some of them shouted out as they walked past, and some leered at Nancy, reaching through their bars to grasp at her dress. The guard immediately rapped their knuckles with his baton and they retreated, hissing like snakes.
Finally, they reached the end of the wing and Nancy was met with the sight of Fagin. Fagin the Jew, as he had so often been labelled. Canny, clever Fagin. Fagin who had taken Nancy in off the streets when she was just a child. Fagin who had taught her the ways of crime and thievery. Fagin, who sat before her now as a broken old man.
The guard left Nancy alone, and she moved closer to the bars of Fagin's cell. She looked at him as he sat on the wooden bench, facing away from her. His oily hair sat in straggles down his back and she could see that he was trembling. Whether trembling with cold, or trembling with contemplation, she couldn't tell.
'Fagin,' she whispered.
He didn't move.
'Fagin,' she repeated, clearer now. She wrapped her hands around the cool iron bars and rested her face against them, keeping her eyes on the old man as he turned around to look at her.
The expression flickering across Fagin's face as he looked at Nancy was not one of recognition, or even something approaching pleasure at her being there. It was one of fear. Wide-eyed, beaded-browed, fear.
'Impossible,' he breathed, his voice barely above a croak.
Nancy frowned, but said nothing. She studied Fagin as he wrapped his arms around his skinny frame and whimpered, 'How – how are you here? How – I don't – you're not -'
'What?' Nancy said, eyeing Fagin as he rocked himself back and forth, 'What do you mean – I'm not here?'
Fagin only whimpered more loudly in response, his breathing hitching as he grew more panicked.
'Fagin,' Nancy said with as much firmness as she could summon, 'What's wrong?'
'You're dead,' he blurted suddenly, his strangled shout echoing through the damp chamber, 'You're a ghost. You're not here. You're – you're dead.'
He repeated the words "you're dead" feverishly, in time with his rocking.
Nancy removed her hands from the bars as quickly as if they had burned her and watched Fagin in horror.
'I told him. I said she peached. She peached and we'd be hanged. It's the gallows for us, Bill. I said. She's dead. He killed her. He said he'd kill her.'
Fagin's muddled ramblings crawled over Nancy's skin and she trembled. She clamped a hand over her mouth and stumbled around, running away from him. Her chest was clamped and she couldn't breathe. Strangled sobs forced their way out of her throat as she blundered out of the jail, blinking as the sunlight stung her eyes. She couldn't see, couldn't think, just pelted blindly forwards until she fell into Bet's arms and her knees buckled.
'What on earth?' Bet cried in bewilderment.
Nancy couldn't speak, instead collapsing to the ground and curling up as if she was a child. Bet crouched down next to her and patted her shoulder in some attempt to console her, but it had little effect.
'Nancy, what happened?'
A fevered shake of the head was the response, as Nancy gripped her knees against her chest and screwed her face up. It was if she was trying to disappear, willing the cobbled streets to open up and envelop her.
'Nancy, you're scaring me.'
Bullseye circled Nancy's shaking form, whining and barking in distress.
'It's because of him,' Nancy eventually whispered, her voice barely above a squeak. She still lay curled up on the ground, still trembling.
'What?'
'He told Bill.'
Bet pieced the fragmented explanation together and then gasped as the realisation hit her. Without a word, she pulled Nancy to her feet and ushered her back home. They needed to get away from the prying eyes of the scattering of passers-by who had gathered to watch the spectacle.
They reached the lodgings and walked inside. Nancy staggered as she moved, as if she was drunk, and Bet gripped her wrist as she guided her into her room and got her to sit on the bed. Bullseye climbed up to sit next to her, placing a paw on her lap and gazing up at her. Nancy made no response, shrunken inside her dress, shutting her eyes as hot tears leaked through her lashes. Bet sat on the other side of her and rubbed a circle on her lower back, and the three of them sat in a pregnant silence.
I struggled a bit writing this chapter, and it hasn't quite turned out the way I imagined, but I hope you liked it all the same. Do let me know what you think!
