December 7, 1828

… I was now stuck here, by myself, with the responsibility of taking care of all the boys. I could not figure out what to do. I went halfway up the stairs and heard the boys laughing and talking. At least, they were being quiet about it. I sighed and descended back down into the kitchen.

I went over to the fireplace and threw on a couple of logs to bring the dwindling fire back to life. Now I began to consider my options. I could sneak out and go to church – no, that would be unsafe and irresponsible. I could take the children down to the orphanage – no. I had given this idea a lot of thought already. The fact was that the longer I stayed here, the more I saw all the positives of the place. The children had shelter, food, and, of course, the elderly gentleman – he seemed to be happy to house them. Now, I realize that he depends on them for income, but it was an even trade-off, wasn't it? I only wished that they made money in a non-criminal way. That was the only negative side that I saw…

My pondering was interrupted by a ring at the front door bell. I walked out into the passageway and came across the Dodger who was just entering from another doorway. He was holding a lit candle and a set of old keys. He jumped slightly when he saw me, but almost immediately regained his composure, "You gonna get it?" he asked.

He seemed ready as ever to do his duty so I was not going to stop him, "Go ahead."

He returned a minute later followed by Nancy. He then headed off back into the passage. It was then that I realized that I had not seen the Dodge that morning at breakfast. I didn't have time to wonder why because Nancy spoke, "Is Fagin here?"

"No, I answered, "He's gone… for how long, I don't know."

She paused midway in hanging up her bonnet, "So you've taken over?"

"Seems so."

She walked over to the table and sat down, "I'll just keep you company for a while. Bill has been in an awful mood all morning… he's planning another excursion. He's mostly annoyed because you won't be going!" she smiled at me and continued, "Grapevine says that you have changed to being a pick-pocket. That's strange, but it is better work, isn't it?"

"Well, less deadly for one thing…" I replied and she laughed.

"What did you want Fagin for?" I asked after a pause.

"We need a couple more pounds to tide us over until Bill does the next job. We've been having a bit of trouble…," she went into a semi-melancholy mood as she spoke.

"Well, I believe you know where it is at. Help yourself," I felt sorry for her.

Nancy moved over to the dresser and took out some money, a notebook, and an ink set. She sat back down beside me and began to count the money, "Let's see, one, two, three, four… I think that would be enough…," she opened the notebook and flipped to a page that was half-filled with, what was probably, Fagin's writing. She began to subtract the four pounds from the bottom sum. After doing the math, Nancy signed her name beside the sum along with a short note giving an explanation for the withdrawal.

I had been less than interested in watching her at first… that is, until I realized that I recognized the handwriting. I pulled out the note that I had kept in my pocket all this time – the one that had told me to go to The Three Cripples on that first night.

"Did you write this?" I held the message aloft in the firelight so that she could see it clearly.

"No." She got up and turned to replace the contents back in the dresser.

"Are you sure?" She turned around her eyes widened. I had pulled out my pistol.

A door opened and in stepped Dodger. He froze because I had then pointed the gun at him instead, "Come here Dodge."

He obeyed and I posed a different question at him, "Is this Nancy's handwriting?"

"Yes," he replied a little shaken.

"Thank you, Dodge," I grinned at him and he grinned back. He looked relieved and even a little bit proud. I suppose he thought that I would reward him for helping to crack down on a turncoat who was trying to 'peach'. The Dodger walked past Nancy and grabbed a wooden box off a shelf. He then disappeared back upstairs.

I turned my gaze back to Nancy and she fell to the floor. She wept, made excuses, and finally pleaded for mercy. Tears streamed down her face and she bit at her knuckles in despair.

"Nance, I won't tell anyone… don't worry, your safe… I work at the orphanage on East Side Street," I replaced my gun and, grabbing her arms, pulled her into a sitting position.

She gave a few more sobs and then stopped abruptly, "Re-re-really?"

"Yes. I'm here to find out who put this," I waved the note, "in out mailbox."

"I did that some years ago… I was fourteen the…"

"It was stuck in at the bottom of the box… we just didn't know that it had been stuck that long!" I began to laugh and she joined in. She stood up and grabbed her bonnet. She then departed.

I folded up the piece of paper and shoved it into my coat pocket. I felt exuberant! I had not been wasting my time after all!

Dodger and Charlie came in.

"Where's Fagin?" asked Charlie.

"He's left on a vacation!" I might have said this a little too happily.

"Watch it, " I heard Dodger whisper to Charlie, "it's gone to his head like liquor."

Charlie giggled.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Lunch. We're starvin'," giggled Charlie.

Ah yes, my domestic duties… I turned to grab some cookware, but then stopped, "Does anyone have any problems with going to restaurants?"

Both boys looked shocked, but they quickly assured me that restaurants were fine and dandy.

"Alright then, get everyone together and we will go out to eat!" I was in a really generous mood. Sometimes I surprise myself. Although, there was something extremely positive about this idea – I could enjoy lunch without the whine!

Thanks for reading. Boring chapter, sorry! Please review! Oh, and I know that pun in the last line is awful. Cheerio! - Elaine Dawkins