Double Identities
Two years later, perspicacious Ratigan was awarded a Bachelor's title, and continued his post-graduate studies in chemistry to become Master of the science. As it had become increasingly difficult to avoid afternoon classes by then, he searched for work that he could do during the night hours as well as continuing his employment at the lawyer's office in the early mornings. It goes without saying that he hardly had any leisure time, and what little remained of his free hours, he spent asleep.
So it chanced that under the pseudonym Mr. Stanley Wickham – he would have never given away his true identity, for that would have caused him grave embarrassment – he applied for, and obtained, a primitive job behind the bar of a well-frequented, though rather seedy pub near the waterfront. Five nights a week, between 7 p.m. and 3 a.m., he transformed from the highly educated gentleman-to-be into a common, coarse barmixer. Authentically imitating a Cockney accent, he blended and poured various sorts of beverages into the glasses of the pub's exceptionally thirsty customers, all the while secretly lamenting the fact that he was compelled to sink so low only to be able to afford the expenses of his student life. Yet he had no other choice at present, and he knew this was not going to last too long.
His employer was very content with him, for Ratigan had a certain flair for persuading his customers into buying more drinks than they normally would; and what is more, he began to habitually order his simple-minded colleagues about and pressure them to get on quicker and more efficiently with their work. These unmistakably entrepreneurial personal qualities made a special impression on his boss, Mr. Huxley, also a rat who had been managing the ugly but sufficiently prosperous business for over two decades. To Ratigan's complacence, the former surprised him one night, after having been under Huxley's employment as a barkeeper for a few months, with a particularly tempting offer.
"Mr. Wickham," Huxley began, "as I've already told you more dan once, I'm most sadisfied with your work – most sadisfied indeed. It don't occur too often that me bartenders show such leadership qualities – why, if I ain't mistaken, it never 'appened at all! So 'ere's what I wanna say to ya: as ya might 'uv noticed, I've become quite the old rat now; an me business'll need a new manager once I've retired, which is quite soon – da soona, da bedda fo me, hehe! I don't wanna give it all up now dat it's goin' so good, I mean, me 'avin put near 20 year of me life into it! So I'm arskin' ya – wouldja be interesstid in takin' over? I knows ya can do it; ya've got da mind of a businessman, I see! It 'ud be a great waste o' talent, if ya continooed ta woik pourin' drink loik a servant, when ya 'ave a natchral leader in ya!"
As the old publican had predicted, his employee was delighted at the offer. Indeed, it was a blessing, Ratigan thought, for he would no longer depend on the miserly wages for a barkeeper, but would be in charge of the entire pub. His co-workers were in awe of him already; the respect they had for him would doubtlessly increase once they were under his employ, which would be to his great advantage. However, he was aware that he would need to spend more time on his managerial duties than now with his serving-job; this did not work well with his current other employment as a typist – he would have to either terminate his contract there, or demand fewer hours of engagement. Nevertheless, he instantly agreed with the offer, and thanked Mr. Huxley as heartily as he could feign.
"Excillint!" Huxley cried. "I noo ya'd say yes."
And so, by the end of the following month, Mr. Stanley Wickham was the new proprietor of the Rat Trap.
It felt somewhat strange to Ratigan that he should find himself taking over a public house; it reminded him of someone in his past who wanted him to take over his dairy shop once he retired. Apparently, he could not evade the peculiar side-effect of attempting to entirely abandon the path that was originally designed for him; but it was merely a means to an end, nothing more. He now worked thirty hours per week for the Rat Trap, and ten at the lawyer's, which of course, no one in the pub knew – as it was not Padraic Ratigan who owned it, but Stanley Wickham. His studies progressed much slower than he would have desired; but thanks to his superior intelligence, he had to devote less time to studying than the majority of his colleagues at university.
He decided to impart an innovative touch on the pub so as to further increase the number of customers, and thereby, the profit made. The establishment already had a room for billiards and dart, which was quite popular; but Ratigan had the inspired idea to employ a pianist, as well as a few girls who would dance, sing and thereby entertain the visitors to a degree that solely drink and games could not. Shortly afterwards, three young ladies – mice – were hired; two of them – they went by the names Miss Lucy Keaton and Miss Ann Stoner – were already well acquainted with vastly more infamous affairs, and the other, Miss Lisbeth Smith, an orphan who had only recently reached adulthood, worked as a street vendor in Covent Garden during the day. What little money she had earned until the fortunate circumstance of obtaining additional employment at the Rat Trap, which she initially considered a stroke of immense luck, was through selling various kinds of odds and ends – combs, boot-laces, and matches among other minor articles. She did not suspect that in the future, something would occur which would significantly change her life.
Miss Lisbeth – or rather Lizzy, as she was commonly referred to – proved to be an astonishingly gifted performer. She had often lulled drunken regulars to sleep with her silvery, sweet tunes, and quickly became the main attraction of the pub; more and more people would come only to behold the bewitching beauty that was cream-furred, dainty Miss Lizzy. The other girls, who acted as back-up performers, completely paled in comparison. Entertaining strangers night by night made her previously even harder life more tolerable, although she began to despise the job after several months had passed, which, however, others would have been surprised to learn, as her singing and dancing were as impeccable as ever. It greatly discommoded her when offensive drunkards would attempt to get onstage- and sometimes succeed at it – and grab her by the skirt. Or constantly wolf-whistle her and shout out indecencies; or make lewd offers and expect her to readily accept them. Yes, it was a loathsome part-time occupation Miss Lizzy had chosen; but after her aunt had passed away, herself a poor, almost-illiterate mouse, but who was the only relative she had who would take her in after her parents' untimely death, Lizzy found herself all alone and destitute. Therefore, she regarded the Rat Trap's offer as a light at the end of the tunnel, which she had long felt she had to find her way out of. Selling random articles in the streets was simply not enough for her to support herself; and at least her fate was not as ugly as that of countless other poor does, who ended up as fancy women, as this was the only option they had. Lizzy thanked Heaven for bestowing upon her the gifts of song and dance, for she excelled at these arts without ever having received formal instruction. What she would possibly do without them, she dared not think about. Similar to her employer, who, like her, possessed naturally fine acting skills, she would lead a kind of double life; a modest, inconspicuous street vendor by day, a highly coveted temptress by night.
Mr. Ratigan, who, after having worked as publican for two years then, had earned and saved enough to be able to finally realize his dream of acquiring some more gentlemanly attire for his hours at the office and university; further, he was advancing quite satisfactorily with his studies, and had already begun writing his Master Thesis; and he eagerly looked forward to the day his magnum opus was completed. He was eminently content with Miss Lizzy, for her presence in the saloon alone guaranteed increasing profit; in fact, he dreaded that someday, she might wish to leave, for he considered it impossible to find a worthy successor to her looks and talents.
However, it so happened that one late summer afternoon, Miss Lizzy had made the acquaintance of a young middle-class mouse while she was working in Covent Garden. She had availed herself of all her feminine charms to persuade him into buying a blue and yellow striped scarf, though he had been rather unwilling to purchase it initially.
"Ah well, since you're such a lovely young lady, it's quite the effort to say no. Here you go, Miss, and do keep the change!", said the kindly stranger in the most amicable manner. Miss Lizzy was delighted.
"Bless you, sir! If I may say so, it looks particularly handsome on you!" she said with a perky little laugh. The other blushed, and chuckled modestly. Indeed, he was a quite good-looking fellow, with or without the scarf, which was actually not at all as 'handsome' as Lizzy had described it.
"Might I have the pleasure of knowing how to address the pretty damsel?" he asked with a smile.
"Miss Lisbeth's the name. Or Lizzy, as they call me," she answered, rather coyly. "How might I address you, sir?"
"Mr. Jacob Houston," the fellow replied. "Well then, a good afternoon, Miss Lizzy!" He bowed politely, as if to a lady rather than a costermonger. "Who knows, we may see each other again next time I pass by Covent Garden."
"Oh, I certainly 'ope so! Goodbye, Mr. Houston!" she said, beaming, and curiously watched him as he left, to whither she did not know. How amiable he was! It was a rare thing for a gentleman to treat a street vendor so graciously. Miss Lizzy truly hoped he would soon return to say hello.
And so he did, and on more than one occasion. As one may be probably be surprised to learn, the gracious Mr. Houston gradually fell in love with Miss Lizzy, after having spent numerous times conversing with her and being taken with her wit and genuinely good soul. Once, he enquired about her work, and asked how she managed to survive selling these strange articles. Lizzy went scarlet at the question, and she hesitatingly and quite ashamed, answered, "Well, Mr. Houston... to be frank, I couldn't if I didn't work elsewhere as well. I know you'll think less of me if I told you the truth, but I... well, I entertain the frequenters of the Rat Trap, you know, the pub, perhaps you've 'eard of it... I mean, I don't do nothin' really nasty," she protested, as she noticed the look of horror on her interlocutor's face, "I just sing and dance, nothin' more... But it's an 'orrible business, anyway!" she cried, with audible emotion, and frowned. "If I wasn't so poor, and if any of my relations was still alive, I'd have better options. Oh, 'ow I detest working in that tavern, Mr. Houston! But it keeps some little piece of bread on the table. Been workin' there for over a year now, and I'm 'atin' it more and more every day." Her eyes filled with tears, which she struggled to restrain. "I really wish I could escape from that place, but I wouldn't know 'ow. I simply can't afford it. It's a damned curse for life if you ain't got no money."
Mr. Houston eyed her sceptically, but his upset expression soon faded. Indeed, what was life without any money? He could barely imagine it. He began to feel deeply sorry for the poor girl, and wished he could do something to improve her dreadful situation. True, she was a working-class mouse, and one with a scandalous avocation; but something about her character caused his enamoured heart to forsake all reason.
And therefore, though it could not be more uncharacteristic of a respectable young bank clerk, Mr. Houston, one October day, visited Miss Lizzy again, and holding a bouquet of flowers, proposed to...
"Marry me? Ah, you can't be in earnest, my dear Mr. Houston! You deserve somethin' far better than the likes o' me! Come on now, you know as well as me that this can never 'appen. It just ain't done that way! Are you tryin' to 'ave me on?" Lizzy cried in utter disbelief at his words. It was greatly embarrassing to her that a respectable mouse was asking her to marry him, when she was merely an uneducated street vendor and entertainer. More than that, it was so unrealistic! There was nothing she desired less than to cause scandal. While she admitted to herself that she, too, was lovestruck, she did not abandon her common sense unlike the amorous fellow. However, he did not seem to care.
"I can assure you that I couldn't be more in earnest, sweet Miss Lizzy!" he said. "I want to give you the chance to start a new life and leave your terrible past behind for good. I know you are the one for me, as I've never encountered such a lovely and kind girl as yourself. I don't care if you don't know so much, or can't read much! I shall teach you some of these things, and we shall be happy together. I can offer you a bright future, Lizzy! Please, do consider it. I've been a lonely bachelor for my entire life. My relatives are in Newcastle, and I will not have to justify my choice to anyone. Do you hear me, Lizzy? Nothing, absolutely nothing stands in our way!"
And although Lizzy secretly wished for nothing more than to spend her life with Mr. Houston by her side, she simply could not accept his proposal.
"I'll have to think about it," she finally said, so as not to discourage him entirely. But she knew that, realistically, it would do more harm than good if she did marry a gentleman such as him. Despite her limited education, Miss Lizzy was wise enough to always regard matters from a sensible angle.
That evening, she found herself in a woeful mood; for it would have been a dream come true if she could accept the proposal. But alas! Some things were meant to remain dreams, and nothing more, or so she thought. Though it caused her spirit anguish of the greatest kind, she hoped that Mr. Houston would contemplate the matter more carefully, and ultimately change his mind. His pure-hearted character deeply affected Lizzy; yet she was aware, and feared, that if she really were to marry him, he would be impelled to regret his decision sooner or later.
Note: Miss Lizzy is NOT the showgirl we know from the film. That would be Miss Kitty.
"doe" = a female mouse