Chapter Thirty-Two – Fear At The Flat
As sunlight filtered through the grime smeared window of the Bethnal Green flat, Bill Sykes stirred, slowly rousing himself from his unusually peaceful sleep. Rolling over in bed to try and stop the light infiltrating his tired eyes further, his gaze happened to rest on the breakfast table, painstakingly set and Nancy, standing at the stove, humming happily to herself as she worked.
Bill heaved himself from the bed and made his way over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist before she could turn. Nancy seemed a little startled, but she smiled all the same and she moved herself to face him.
"Morning Bill," she said softly, smiling all the more as Bill pulled her into a warm embrace, softly stroking her copper coloured hair. He still couldn't believe that she was here with him, that she felt the same way all along…
"Morning, my girl," he replied, gently kissing the top of her head.
After a moment or two, where the pair of them simply stood in each other's arms, lost in their own thoughts, Nancy was forced to return her attention to the food on the stove. Bill laughed good naturedly at her worry; naturally she had wanted the food to be perfect. Nancy luckily saw the funny side, and soon the pair of them were laughing together over a hearty breakfast. Nancy was an excellent cook; just one of the many skills she had learnt at the Cripples. Bill gave his heartfelt compliments to the chef, causing Nancy to blush violently.
"Gawd Bill, it's just bacon an' eggs!" she cried, pleased.
"Better than anything Fagin can cook at any rate," Bill quipped back, and the pair of them reveled in another laugh.
They were both so deliriously happy, so full of laughter, so content. Bill wouldn't have thought it possible he could ever feel so strongly like this, nor would Nancy.
That's what love did to them.
Or what it seemed to do.
"Speakin' of Fagin," Bill said, once his laughter had subsided. "I need to head over there after breakfast if that's alright, Nance. He owes me cash, and lots of it." The housebreaker took a large gulp of gin as if to drive home his point; he and Nancy would need money if he insisted on drinking as much as he did.
"Fagin always owes you cash," Nancy said with a laugh, getting to her feet and beginning to clear away the breakfast things. "Would you mind if I came with you?"
"Not at all," Bill replied, downing the rest of his gin and wiping his mouth. "Ya didn't need to ask Nance, course you can come wiv me. You're my girl, ain'cha?"
Nancy grinned and hurried to Bill's side; Bill scooped up her shawl from where it hung at the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, before doing the same with his arm. Nancy snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and secure, her joyous smile never leaving her face for a moment.
My girl…
She was his.
--
When Bill and Nancy arrived at the flat that morning, it was to find all the boys gathered around the table, clamouring for food. Fagin looked frazzled and not in the best of moods; clearly the boys were getting on his nerves this morning.
"For Gawd's sake!" Fagin screeched after a moment of two of Bill and Nancy's watching the proceedings. "Shut up, sit down and eat the blasted food!" Grumbling to himself he turned away as if to return to his alcove, only to spot the pair standing in the doorway.
It only took a split second for Bill to remove his arm from Nancy's shoulders and return to his usual ferocious demeanor, but by then it was too late.
Fagin had noticed.
Bill and Nancy…together…he'd been wondering why she hadn't come back last night, as had the rest of the gang. Dodger had been worried sick, fearful that Nancy could have gotten hurt or worse.
Or worse. This was worse.
Bill and Nancy…together…it made sense, ultimately, and Fagin hated it.
Then again, sense was something the old 'un was frequently said to be without.
Bill, blunt as ever, got straight to the point.
"Where's my cash Fagin? I've given you time enough!"
The old man blanched, his whole frustrated demeanor vanishing instantly as he cowered before his old protégé. Bill had given him time, certainly, but he himself hadn't had the time. He was already under considerable pressure from one of his other acquaintances down at the Cripples…he didn't need this right now…
Bill noticed Fagin's lack of forthcoming and took a step towards him, his hands curling into fists.
"I said, where's my cash Fagin?" he repeated, his voice low and menacing. Behind him Nancy was looking fearful, not just for Fagin but because of Bill. She hated seeing him so angry when just moments ago he'd been laughing.
Fagin took a step backwards, his eyes wide. Seconds later, who should be standing in front of him but The Artful Dodger himself, trying to appear tough.
"Leave 'im alone, will ya?" he snapped, trying hard to keep the tremor out of his voice.
Fagin, Nancy and the rest of the gang stared at Dodger, a few of the boy's mouths hanging open. What was he doing, how could he be so stupid as to defy Bill Sykes, the Bill Sykes, whom he'd admired and praised ever since his arrival?
"Get out of it Dodger," hissed Fagin frantically, flapping his hands wildly as if to chivvy Dodger along. "Don't be stupid…don't dare…"
"Outta my way, Dodger," growled Bill. "This ain't your problem." Looking over the incensed boy's head, he continued to glower at Fagin. "I ain't gonna ask yer again, you old fence. Where is it? Tell me or I'll beat the information out of yer!"
"Bill!" cried Nancy, dashing forwards and laying a restraining hand on his arm. "Let 'im be! Leave 'im alone! 'Im an' Dodger!"
Bill still appeared angry as he turned to face Nancy, the girl with whom he had been laughing and smiling only minutes before. He pulled his arm from her grip, but made no further advances towards Fagin. Nancy gave him a weak smile, hoping to smooth things over; Bill continued to scowl.
Nancy had put him in his place.
He couldn't help remembering the first time they'd met, if only for a brief instant; she'd defied him then, and she had defied him now.
He couldn't let that happen again.
He wouldn't.
"Just because you're livin' wiv me don't mean you can back answer me, my girl," he said, his voice soft and yet menacing at the same time, the sort of fear inducing voice that is hard to ignore.
The whole flat had heard him.
Charley Bates was the first to break the awkward, tension filled silence; dropping his gin mug with a great clatter, his mouth hanging open in shock.
"You…you're living with Bill now, my dear?" Fagin asked hoarsely, although he knew the answer.
"Do you 'ave a problem wiv tha'?" growled Bill, before Nancy could open her mouth.
Fagin shook his head.
"No, no, not at all, no problem…" he mumbled, wringing his hands behind his back.
"Glad to hear it," the housebreaker replied. "I want that cash by this evening Fagin, an' no later. I'll be at the Cripples."
With that, Bill turned on his heel and headed for the door, standing in the frame as he'd opened it, waiting for Nancy to join him. She was about to do so, but Fagin verbally held her back, his voice no more than an anxious whisper.
"Are you sure about this, my dear? Bill is a violent man, my dear, a very violent man…I just want you to be safe and-"
"Are you trying to say tha' stayin' wiv Bill ain't as safe as actin' a strumpet down at the Cripples?" Nancy hissed back, her voice pure acid. "Bill ain't the monster everyone paints 'im as Fagin. You of all people should know tha'."
With those cheerful parting words, Nancy hurried to Bill's side once again, without another glance over her shoulder. As the door slammed shut, Dodger looked up at Fagin, a strange mixture of fear and grief on his young face.
Fagin could do nothing except give his young ward a weak smile.
--
As the clock chimed seven, Fagin was making his way to the Cripples. Ordinarily he was harried looking where Bill and his cash were concerned, but this was a different matter entirely.
He found Bill at his usual table with Nancy beside him, her arm round his waist as she huddled close to him, a slightly tipsy smile playing about her lips.
"Wot you lookin' so scared of Fagin?" Bill said, taking a slug of drink. "I ain't gonna kill yer or nothin', honest!"
Fagin didn't find Bill's rare good (if slightly drunk) humor funny. This was serious.
"Bill…Ezra's gone missing."
--
A/N: That was an interesting chapter, wasn't it? XD I couldn't have done it without Katarina Sparrow; how many times can I thank you, my dear? :3
Sorry for the recent lack of updates; have faith, my dears, more chapters shall come soon!
Please R&R!
