Chapter Thirty – Some Living
Bill's visits to the gang became more and more frequent over the next few years. By the time Nancy was fifteen (and Bill twenty six) his visitations had become almost daily, and he oftentimes forgot to offer a plausible excuse, instead simply coming to talk to Nancy, or invite her to come to the Cripples with him.
It became increasingly obvious to everyone (and not just Fagin) what was going on. Fagin seemed indifferent to all outward appearances, but despite this, the whole affair didn't sit right with him. He knew Bill's character well…and having such a disagreeable and violent man paired with the kind and loving Nancy…
He had the suspicion this would all end in tears.
Not to mention Bill was constantly at risk of discovering Nancy's new 'occupation'…she was still furious with him and he still wracked with guilt…but what else could he have done? He knew this was the path she would have had to take someday…it just broke his heart that the time had come…
But Bill hadn't found out…
Not yet.
--
"Plummy an' slam!"
The door was opened by the Artful Dodger, his face ashen in contrast to Bill's unusually cheerful expression. The boy ushered the housebreaker inside and wordlessly scurried off to fetch him some gin. Bill thought nothing of it and sat himself down at the table, dumping his burlap sack of goods on the floor at his feet, narrowly avoiding Bulls-Eye as ever.
"Well well well, my dear…" said Fagin, rubbing his hands together with glee as he spotted the loot. "You seem in good humour tonight…might I ask why?"
"Ain't it obvious?" Bill said with a roll of his eyes, accepting a glass of gin from Dodger and taking a large swing. "Great haul at this one crib, I'm expecting a lot for it."
Fagin chuckled.
"As is your custom, my dear…" he said, extracting several items from the bag and scrutinizing them, muttering prices and other petty figures that only he cared about under his breath.
Bill ignored him, his gaze instead travelling around the flat and taking everything in. He still found it hard to believe that it had been seven years since he'd left the attic; the gang had changed dramatically, but it still felt the same somehow; comforting and familiar despite the multitude of new faces. One of his oldest friends still remained however, and it was her on whom his gaze was soon fixed.
Nancy was dressed to go out on the job and was busily adjusting her shawl about her shoulders as Bill approached her. When she turned to face him, a small smile on her face, she was silently praying he wouldn't notice how much she'd changed…it was bad enough that Fagin could see how broken and lifeless she was…
"Nance?" Bill asked gently; a not so rare feat for him where the young woman was concerned.
"Mmm?"
"I wos just about to 'ead off to the Cripples…d'ya want to come?" He offered her a weak smile. "The gin's on me."
Nancy bit her lip. What wouldn't she give to be going to the Cripples with Bill instead of going there to…
She shook her head; she didn't want to think about that…not now…
"You can't?" Bill said, mis-interpreting her gesture, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. Nancy had never said no to one of these proposals before…
"N-no…" Nancy said, her eyes darting from Fagin (who was watching the conversation) to Bill and back again. "I…I'm meeting someone…"
"Oh…tha's alright then…" Bill tried to shrug it off; he was disappointed that Nancy couldn't come, but she surely had other plans…he wouldn't want her life to revolve around him, surely. That would be selfish and, true Bill wasn't the nicest man in Spitalfields, but he didn't consider himself a selfish one.
"I-I'm sorry Bill…truly…I'd love to but-"
"Honestly Nance, its fine." Bill offered her another smile, which his younger friend duly returned. She wanted to tell him everything, have him comfort her…and at the same time she felt so overwhelmed with guilt, so ashamed of what she'd been forced to become…she didn't want him to know…
"Well…I'll see ya later Nance, yeah?"
With that, Bill turned to leave, calling out to Fagin to remind him of his wages as he let the door slam. Little did the housebreaker know just how soon 'later' would turn out to be…
--
Three quarters of an hour later Bill found himself seated at his usual table, his usual large mug of spirit before him. The Cripples was busy tonight, crowded with an eclectic mix of thieves and villains, paupers and beggars.
All as usual.
As the housebreaker raised his sixth mug of gin to his lips, a figure caught his eye. He may have been a little unsteady due to his consumption of spirit, but there was no mistaking that tattered dress, those copper coloured locks…
Nancy had said she was meeting someone…but she'd neglected to tell Bill she'd be meeting the person here, at the Cripples of all places! Intrigued, he continued to watch her as she sallied over to the bar and fetched herself a glass of gin…the way she walked, the way she tossed her hair and smiled her dazzling smile…she was truly captivating.
His tranquil state was soon broken, however, as he noticed a man, one of the usual card playing crowd, approach and put his arm around her, whispering something in her ear. Nancy smiled and laughed, allowing the man to lead her from the bar and towards the tavern door.
Bill got to his feet, all semblances of calm and peacefulness gone. Who was that man to even think of approaching Nancy like that? He wasn't naïve, he'd seen these sorts of situations many a time in this tavern alone…but it couldn't be…this was Nancy; she picked pockets for a living! Not to mention she would never stoop this low, it would never cross her mind…what was going on?
Having pushed his way through the crowd, he finally came up behind Nancy and her companion, the latter of whom he grabbed by the scruff of the neck and attempted to pull away from the former. The man let go of Nancy with an exclamation of surprise and pain; Nancy turned to see Bill and her mouth fell open in shock…why had Fagin made her come here tonight, if he knew Bill was going to be there? Did he want him to know just how low she'd sunk?
"Wot the bleedin' 'ell d'you think you're doin', eh?" Bill snarled, shaking the terrified man like a dog.
The man attempted to stammer a reply, his voice barely audible over the cheers and screams of the people crushed around them. His eyes were wide, his lip trembling; he and everyone else in the vicinity knew Bill Sykes and his reputation; clearly he had crossed him, albeit unknowingly.
"Bill, please!" Nancy cried, laying a restraining hand on Bill's free arm. "Let 'im go, 'e ain't done anythin' wrong!"
Bill rounded on Nancy now; what did she mean, he hadn't done anything wrong? Was she blind to the hungry look in his eyes, the drunken twisted sneer on his face? Was she indifferent to his arm around her shoulders?
"Wot the 'ell do you mean?" he snarled, unable to help the fury and frustration in his voice.
Nancy quailed; she couldn't recall seeing Bill this angry unless he was yelling at Fagin…but this was different…but at the same time it wasn't…this was all Fagin's fault…
"I…I can explain, Bill…"
Bill abruptly let go of Nancy's former companion; the man hurried away into the throng without a last look back, clutching his neck and attempting to regain the use of his vocal chords. The housebreaker took Nancy by the arm, as gently as he could in his current temper, and steered her outside, Bulls-Eye yapping at his heels.
"Explain."
Nancy looked up at Bill, eyes brimming with unshed tears. She hated to tell him, to admit all of this…but she had to…
"I…'aven't been earnin' my keep…pickin' pockets…" she said, her voice hoarse and constricted with suppressed sobs, barely more than a whisper. "An' I 'ave to earn my keep some'ow…it's either tha' or the streets…"
"Don't tell me you chose to do what I think yer doin'!" Bill cried, his hands curling into fists. This was impossible…
"Of course not!" Nancy snapped, equally furious. "Gawd Bill, wot d'you take me for?"
A pause.
"I'm sorry…" she said, brushing tears from her eyes furiously away with a trembling hand.
Bill wasn't sorry. He had put two and two together. This all led back to Fagin, as all bad events inevitably seemed to do.
"When I get my 'ands on 'im…"
"Bill!" cried Nancy again, grabbing him by the arm in an attempt to prevent him running off and murdering the old man in his bed. "I can't deny that I hate wot I 'ave to do but…it's a livin', ain't it? Just like you go 'ouse-breakin', yeah?"
She smiled up at him, trying to calm him down and make him see sense. She was being somewhat hypocritical, she'd wanted to kill Fagin when he'd told her of her 'new job', but she hated that Bill felt this way…she didn't want him to feel pity for her, or anger at Fagin on her behalf…it only made the whole ordeal worse…
Bill turned to face her again, his fierce scowl all the more pronounced in the weak moonlight glinting through the clouds. How could Fagin have done this to Nancy…how could Nancy even discuss the matter with him in such a casual way?
"Some livin'," he spat vehemently. "Some livin'!"
--
A/N: Sorry it's been so long since an update; here's hoping this chapter was worth the wait! ^^
Poor Nancy, poor Bill…poor Fagin when Bill finally gets to him! XD
Please R&R!
By the way, Katarina Sparrow my dear, your 'Nancy' story has been invaluable in writing this chapter. Thank you. =)
