Summary:

Change is in the air.

On Friday, Madame Vastra and Jenny spent lesson time working with their new singlesticks on the roof. They'd tested them several times before, but only for short periods while they both became more familiar with the weapons. Today was a nice long session, practicing stance, and balance; cuts and blocks. They worked mostly at slow and half speed, as Vastra was still deciding if she should get a cage of Jenny's head, such as the soldiers used at the Tournament. She thought it might be wise; Jenny was improving but she was still very new at defending herself, and Vastra sometimes forgot to pull her speed until the last moment, resulting in some rather unsettling near-misses to Jenny's unprotected skull. She could tell that while Jenny was gamely carrying on, the girl was still skittish over Vastra's revelations regarding her origins and the bloody and deadly things she'd witnessed this week. Hence the more involved lesson; Vastra thought a distraction was called for, and Jenny was responding well to the challenge.

After the lesson, they sat in the little alcove on the roof, and enjoyed the warm breeze. Madame Vastra put her netting aside and enjoyed the sun on her face.

Once she caught her breath, Jenny's curiosity, as usual, got the better of her. "You were saying yesterday about taking a row house near St. Paul's Cathedral. That area's pretty nice. Not as toplofty as the West End, but far better than my old haunts. Lots of offices near there."

"Yes, I understand that the area is mostly, what did the estate agent say? Ah yes! 'Business Concerns.' However there are several residences as well. I believe mine was originally built for a wealthy publisher. After it died, its male hat…child inherited it, and now it is leasing the building to me."

"The publisher was likely a man, ma'am, so when he died, his son inherited. You need to work on that; sounds strange that you don't remember the words so well." Jenny cocked her head. "Hang on, Soames and Sherwin's bank is close by there, right?"

"Correct. You have a good memory. I would still prefer to keep a watch on that place. The Black Scorpions may be broken, but to many of their allies are still roaming free."

"When do we move in? Not sure it's a good idea to just grab our things and walk down the street to your new house. People might ask where you got enough money to afford it. And not that we have much else to pack, but if we're moving… the notes, it's going to take some time." Jenny always felt a little worried about talking too much about their loot from the bank robberies.

"I am less concerned about leaving here than I am about arriving there. I wish to make the proper impression, so that we are not questioned in the future."

"There'll always be questions. That's just human nature. Still, it's a smart thought. If you arrive as a wealthy toff widow, people will assume that you're a wealthy widow until proven otherwise. When can we have a look?"

"Monday August the First is the date when we may take possession of the house." Vastra said. "However, the property is currently empty, so I obtained permission to visit once or twice beforehand and decide what changes need to be made."

"Changes?"

"Yes. The owners were both heavy smokers, and little was altered since the original owner died. If nothing else, I want to air the rooms out."

"Makes sense. Probably need to change the drapes as well. Coal smoke is bad enough, but most goes up the chimneys. But tobacco smoke gets everywhere. Likely it will need a good clean too." Jenny frowned. "Ah, just remembered. I'll need to give notice to Mrs Brown."

"Give notice?"

"Tell her I'm leaving, and that she'll need a new cleaner. Though mind, we've visited that street before. It's only a fifteen minute walk from there to here if she needs me to stay on and help for a bit."

"Very well, let Mrs Brown know." Vastra frowned a moment. "However, the agent seemed to have one strong concern. It said most people refused to lease the house due to its position on the street."

"Our house? Is it in the middle of the street? What's wrong with its position?"

"Something about the number being bad? Is that a... mammalian delusion?"

"The number…? Oh! The street number! What is it?"

"Thirteen."

"Well, that makes figures. Most folks think thirteen is an unlucky number."

"How can a number be unlucky? Numbers are simply ways to count!" Jenny could see Vastra frowning under her hood. "Are you going to be difficult about moving now?

"Not me! After all, I was almost thirteen when I met you and really thirteen when you beat the Black Scorpions! Now I get to move to a real house! That's good luck, that is. Thirteen's always been lucky for me. Always a bit different, I am."

Vastra shook her head at Jenny's nonsense. Still it answered the question. "Very well then. At the beginning of next month we will move into Thirteen Paternoster Row."

After she finished cleaning the Gin Palace the next day Jenny 'Gave Notice' to Mrs Brown that she was leaving, and would not be able to continue as the morning cleaner. Then things took an interesting turn. In short order, Vastra found Mrs Brown at her door, demanding to speak with her.

Mrs Brown quickly came to the point: "Mean to make sure you're paying that young gel of yours what she's worth! Probably the best cleaner I've had in years. You and I agreed that I'd pay her six shillings a week. She's never said what you pay her, or if you even do so. Now it's one thing for you to pay her a pittance plus room and board to clean a one-room flat, but it is quite another to pay her the same wage, and then have her cleaning a great huge townhouse! By my reckoning, you should be paying her a good twenty pounds a…"

"Twenty pounds!" Vastra was stunned. In her experience, twenty pounds a week seemed so high! Even at the Monstre Gathering, Jago only paid her a pound a week to play The Amazing Lizard Woman! And that was considered good pay for her troupe!

"Oh, don't tell me you're one of those penny-pinching toffs who pays too little and works their maid half to death! Twenty to Twenty- Five pounds is a decent wage for a hard working maid like Jenny! If you don't pay her proper, she'll be gone in no time! There's a shortage of good workers these days; the gel's young, that's true, but she'll grow into her position quick enough. 'Specially now that she'll have other older servants to learn from. Or bully her until she learns her place. Same thing, in't it? "

"No one bullies Jenny but me. And what other servants are you talking about?"

"You're leasing a certain house on Paternoster Row, Jenny says. I know that place; it's got a poor reputation. It's a massive sprawling castle of a house. You'll need other servants. Butler housekeeper, cook. 'ow many more servants will Madame be hiring, anyway?"

"I'm not sure I'll be hiring any servants. I want to have a good look at the house first and then determine what is needed. Besides, Jenny will be more of an apprentice…"

"An Apprentice!" scoffed Mrs Brown. "Jenny's too young; she can't be an apprentice! What nonsense are you filling her head with? This better not be some toff trick to cheat an honest girl of her wages! Take the girl for an Apprentice? Don't be daft! I still say twenty pounds…"

Jenny cautiously lifted two buckets, and started up the stairs, careful to not spill any water. As she reached the top, she could hear Mrs Brown and Madame Vastra arguing; not loud like, but both very set in their tone. Jenny heard her name, and realized the two women, human and lizard, were arguing about her! She stopped, not sure if she should just barge in. Neither one sounded very happy, but maybe she should break them up. She started forward, again, just in time to hear Mrs Brown say "…for an Apprentice? Don't be daft! I still say twenty pounds…" and then the woman moved further into the room. Stunned, Jenny put down the buckets outside the door and stepped back into the stairway.

Apprenticeships cost money. She hadn't thought of that. Twenty pounds for an apprenticeship… well that was almost cheap! She knew that for some of the female trades, such as milliner or mantua maker, the apprenticeship could run as high as forty pounds!

But Madame hadn't mentioned payment. And she knew Jenny only had a few handfuls of shillings saved up. Maybe Madame would loan her the money and she could work it off.

And that brought unhappy thoughts of how the Scorpions wanted to work off her debt back again. But Madame Vastra wasn't like that. Was she?

Or maybe Jenny should stay at the Gin Palace, and try to save up the money instead. If she could save two shillings a week, she's have a pound in 10 weeks, and for twenty pounds… Jenny frowned. That couldn't be right! She'd need four years and a bit more to save up twenty pounds!

But how else could she get the money to pay Madame Vastra? She didn't have anything to sell… well aside from the obvious, and since Madame had killed Chang the Scorpion whoremaster, she doubted selling her body was what Madame wanted.

The thought 'payment in blood' floated up in Jenny's mind. She had no idea what penny dreadful she'd read that in.

Taking another cleaning job was a possibility. Or of course, she could always rob a bank…

Jenny cocked her head. Now that… that was an idea…

Madame Vastra said nothing about finding two abandoned water buckets outside the door of the flat as Mrs Brown was leaving. She assumed that Jenny heard the adults arguing, and with a hatchlings' instinct for survival, went in search of something safer to do than interrupt.

Later that evening Jenny found Madame Vastra on her knees, peering under the bed. Beside her were bank notes, coins and stock certificates, stacked in untidy piles.

"I had forgotten how much treasure is under here. How will we move this to our new location when the time comes?" asked Vastra, glancing up at Jenny.

"Need a chest or some bags most like, ma'am," replied Jenny.

"Could you carry a chest?" asked Vastra. "I can carry mine down the street easily enough, and I know you are getting stronger, but still…"

Jenny laughed at the thought. "No, we'll get a carter to move everything. You said you want to make a good impression, right? Quality doesn't move their own things; they pay people like my lot to do it."

Vastra brightened a little. "Ah, rather like the roustabouts that the troupe employed to move things and set up. Yes, very good idea!" She sighed a little. "I still have a great deal to learn about… human tribes."

Jenny looked over the stacks, and picked one up. "What about those papers; the stock certificates and such with the Scorpions' names on them? If we're caught with them, the game is up for both of us. Should we burn them?"

Vastra scowled, looking from the papers to the fireplace and back. "Jenny, if you walked into a room with a great deal of burnt paper in it in the summer, what would you think?"

"That either someone was really bad at starting fires, or they were hiding… oh!" Jenny shook her head. "Right, that's a sure way to give us away. All right, I'll bundle them up for now." She grinned, "Here's a thought; I can make 'em into spills to start the fires at the new house. If it's as big as you say ma'am, there'll be lots of fireplaces. We can hide them in plain sight, and just burn a couple of them a day!"

"Excellent idea. Now, I pulled out this… money for a reason. After you finish cleaning tomorrow, we're going to do some investigating."

Jenny grinned. Investigating with Madame Vastra always turned up something new. Well, almost always; she winced as she remembered a manure pile she'd dug through the other week.

As it turned out, Madame Vastra was considering taking Mr Thackeray advice to first move to a hotel instead of moving directly to the new house. The idea was to give both Vastra and Jenny some practice in their new roles. Neither pf them had ever stayed at a hotel, but Vastra thought they would be much like the rooming houses her troupe had occasionally stayed at; except larger and almost certainly cleaner! She suspected that they would also require more money, but she was confident that Jenny would be able to sort out their funds and make sure the bills were paid.

On Sunday afternoon, they walked over to the Mansion House station, and took the underground to Victoria Station. Jenny wanted to enjoy the ride, but found herself remembering Madame's story about attacking people in the dark. Every time the lights flickered, Jenny started a tiny bit. She was very happy when the ride was over. And she was cross about feeling that way. She loved riding on the Metropolitan Railway!

As far as Jenny could tell, Madame Vastra didn't even notice. The lizard woman just sat and brooded, not speaking for the entire trip. Even the huge station at Victoria, where the underground delivered passengers to the rail lines, didn't look like it impressed her.

The Grosvenor Hotel at 101 Buckingham Palace Road in Belgravia was a massive building, fully five tall stories high before the roofline, which seemed to be two stories more. A wide avenue led up to it, and curved in front. The building had to be easily three times as wide as it was high. Even the front doors, sheltered by an awning that stretched out to the street, were awe-inspiring. Jenny gulped, wanting to turn back before they got near the place. Even the Bank of England didn't intimidate her as much as this posh hotel.

Madame Vastra, however, swept forward, and Jenny trotted a bit to catch up. Near the doors the two doormen where helping a pair of well-dressed families into their carriages, and didn't notice Vastra and Jenny's approach. Madame ignored them, easily opening the front door herself.

At the last moment, one of the doorman caught sight of them, and called out, "Hoi! Stop you two!" Madame continued to ignore him, and Jenny gave a little shrug to the doorman as she followed her mistress inside.

Inside the door was the main lobby. Jenny couldn't help it, she simply stopped and stared. Everything was polished stone. The floor was laid out in like a draughts-board, white and black stones side by side. The walls were polished white, with columns on the walls, two stories high at least, that led to gold tops, and over those fierce stone lion masks stared frowned down at her. Ahead of them a wide staircase led up then split in two, one set of stairs to either side, up to a balcony that ran all the way around the lobby. The balcony itself was another two stories high. Above them was a huge lamp, which to Jenny seemed to be made of thousands of tiny bits of glass. Everything was lit by gaslights, blazing away in the middle of the day!

Jenny suddenly felt very lost. This wasn't like the Bank of England, where they were welcome guests. No one invited them here. They didn't fit in. If the doormen hadn't been helping someone else, they'd never be allowed to cross the doorway. Despite that, she couldn't stop gawking. Madame Vastra, of course, ignored everyone and everything, and started towards the front desk.

The clerk there was glaring at them like he was looking at a pair of slugs. "You have used the wrong doors. The servants' entrance is around the side."

"I am no one's servant," replied Madame Vastra.

"No?" The man scowled, and growled in a low voice, "Then get out! We certainly don't allow beggars in here at all! James! Charles!"

Two tall men in uniform who were nearby sorting luggage turned at his call, and at his waved command, started towards Jenny and Vastra menacingly.

"We'd best go ma'am," whispered Jenny.

"Why?" asked Madame. "I can dispose of them easily enough." She turned to face the large men.

"Ah, ma'am, that's not really a good idea!" Jenny got between the men and Madame Vastra. If anyone was going to take a beating, it would be her not Madame! She grabbed Madame's arm, and started edging them out the door.

The men slowed a little, but didn't stop. Jenny breathed a little sigh of relief; so long as they were leaving, the men didn't seem to want to cause a scene. Probably give the place a bad name if they beat up a women and child who were trying to get out the door. She continued tugging Madame towards the door, herded by the men.

"Jenny, we…"

"Not now, please, Madame."

"'Madame' is it? You one of her little whore's girl, come to ply yer trade with the gent…"

SMACK!

The mouth-breather went flying. Madame Vastra had darted around Jenny and dealt her own rough justice for the insult.

"Jenny is not a whore, and if you ever say anything of the sort again, I will kill you!" Madame stared down at the stunned man, where he lay crumpled against the wall. His partner stood staring at him, shocked, then turned back to Jenny and Vastra, murder in his eye.

"That's done it," muttered Jenny, who grabbed Madame's hand and pulled her towards the door as fast as possible. As luck would have it, the doorman saw them coming, and politely opened the door for them, and gave them a little bow as they went past.

"Thank you for visiting us! Please come again!"

"Not bloody likely," muttered Jenny, as she hurried Madame down the street.

Author's Notes:

"…she should get a cage of Jenny's head" – Vastra is of course referring to a fencing mask.

Apprenticeships in Victorian London - Although in 1881 the apprenticeship system in England was not as absolute as it had been in the middle ages, it still existed, and would persist until the 1920's. About 3 – 5% of apprentices were female, usually in occupations such as mantu maker, dress maker, milliners, etc. A seven-year term was usual and in the better trades, such as cabinet makers, saddlers and silversmiths; apprenticeship usually started at the age of fourteen. By the "custom of London" those apprenticed in the City had to be over 14 and under 21. (Which is why Mrs Brown says Jenny is too young.) In Surrey in the 18th century (1700's) some 87 per cent of the apprenticeships were for seven years, the remainder ranging from one to 15 years. The shorter terms included attorneys, milliners and mantua makers (dressmakers), who usually served for five years. In these cases the premiums for females could be as high as £40, whilst those for attorneys could be a good deal higher.

Spills to start fires: A spill is a long slender spiral cylinder of paper (easily made by hand from scrap paper, old wrapping paper, incriminating papers you want to dispose of...) that allow one to light a fire without having the match burn your fingers. Smart idea, yes?

The Grosvenor Hotel was built in 1862 close to Victoria Station in Belgravia, London. The hotel is still in operation, and if you look it up on the 'net, there is a lovely virtual tour of the lobby, and you can see what Jenny tries to describe. As a writer, I must say that I love the internet; I was looking for period pictures of the lobby, and received an entire tour!