Chapter Forty-One – If Looks Could Kill
The fight was over, so many of the onlookers were drifting away, chattering amongst themselves once again. Evans had been helped to his feet by a couple of his cronies and he was now glaring daggers at Bill. If looks could kill… He'd get Sykes back for this if it was the last thing he did…
Bill didn't notice Evans' hostility but he could certainly sense it. The man was livid. Despite the fact that Bill was 'baddest on the block' he knew that from now on, more than ever, he'd have to watch his back. He'd underestimated Tim Evans.
"Well?" cried Tobias Crackit, interrupting Bill's vaguely macabre thoughts. "Aren't you going to shake on it?"
"Wot?" snapped Bill, guessing he'd missed something the flamboyant man had said. His hand was still outstretched.
"Aren't you going to shake on it?" Tobias repeated, giving Bill what he hoped was a winning smile. "It's wot friends do, ain't it?"
"Wot makes you think I'm your friend?" snarled Bill, still furious.
"Well…" the other replied, without the slightest trace of deference. "I just saved you from gettin' yer butt kicked, didn't I?"
Bill made a move as if to hit Toby, but Nancy held him back, surprisingly strong in her entreaty.
"Please Bill," she begged, her eyes brimming with tears. "Please. No more fightin'! Not just for my sake but for your own!"
Bill knew she was right, but that didn't mean he was going to accept it. He grudgingly nodded, however and turned back to face Toby, Nancy's tear-filled eyes branded in his mind.
Toby retracted his hand and gave Bill a sheepish grin.
"Sorry about tha'…'s just my way…"
Bill rolled his eyes.
"How's about we have a drink or two, eh?"
Bill nodded; he needed a drink. Ignoring Nancy's silent protests he shook her off and followed Tobias to a table, which was already littered with empty bottles. He sat down opposite his new acquaintance, with Nancy reluctantly taking a seat beside him.
The trio sat in silence for a moment or two until Bill had the presence of mind to summon one of the serving girls to get their gin. The drinks were soon brought to the table and the two men became further acquainted, while Nancy watched hesitantly from the sidelines.
"You can call me Toby me ol' mucker; don't mind if I call ya Bill? Know all about you of course; a real professional you are!"
"Keep yer voice down," hissed Sykes, although he knew perfectly well that everyone in the vicinity knew his occupation. Nevertheless it wasn't a good idea to go around bragging about a job like his.
Toby obligingly talked at a lower volume.
"I'm in the same business m'self as a matter of fact, but I'm nowhere as good as you, m'boy, nowhere near as good!" He clapped Bill heartily on the shoulder across the table before taking a large gulp of gin, continuing to speak as though he hadn't paused a moment. "You're a legend down our way, y'know?"
Bill raised an eyebrow.
"Whereabouts is your way?" he asked, out of curiosity.
"Petticoat Lane," said Toby, with a rougeish wink. "Great place, great people…but you can't beat the Cripples when you wants good gin!"
Bill was only half listening at that point; how this fellow prattled on! But then, something Toby had said clicked into place in his mind.
Petticoat Lane.
"You don't 'appen to know Fagin, do yer?" he asked, with more urgency then he thought he could muster.
"Might do," said Toby, but a glare from Bill lead him to confirm that yes indeed he was acquainted with the old chap and they'd done business together on several occasions. Fagin didn't pay well but what could he do? Once Fagin was your fence there was no getting out of it. He was so well connected he could have you dangling from the rope mere hours after you tried to switch to someone else.
Bill knew this of course but Nancy did not; she listened with wide, fearful eyes as Toby and Bill continued to berate and belittle the old man they only put up with for his wallet. She'd always known that Fagin was a bit mad…but never had she imagined he could be so…cunning…and deceptive, like that. He always seemed so merry and carefree (unless money or the police were called into question).
"You don't 'appen to 'ave tipped off the traps anytime recently, 'ave yer?" inquired Bill, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground but no longer caring. If Toby was the man, if it was his fault the traps were onto Fagin (and, consequently, him) again, any further thoughts of friendship would be swiftly terminated.
"Funny you should mention tha'," said Toby with a chuckle. "Jus' so 'appens I told 'em Fagin and company wos livin' roundabouts my patch, just to throw 'em off the scent. Seems they were after Fagin on information one of his older charges gave 'em…Andy, I think 'is name wos…"
"Don't talk about tha'," said Bill gruffly, his relaxed look instantly turning to a frown. "Jus' don'." The memories of Archie and Ezra, even after all this time, were still painful to him. How could Archie have done what he did; how could he have peached, lied…murdered?
"Bill?"
Nancy's voice suddenly rang in his ears, gentle but seemingly far away.
"Bill, are you all right?"
"W-wot?" said Bill startled, wrenching himself, with Herculean effort, back to reality. He couldn't, he mustn't let things like this distract him any more, not on the job, not even here. If he was going to be the greatest man of all time, he'd have to learn to let go of the past. Jeremy, Ezra, Archie, Frankie, Norman, Morris…all of them. He just had to.
"Yeah," he replied, after a moment, hurriedly taking a sip of gin as if to further cement himself in the present. "I'm fine; of course I'm bleedin' fine. I wos jus'…thinkin'…for a moment."
"Speakin' of thinkin', I've just come up wiv a brillian' idea!" Toby exclaimed, leaning forward conspiratorially.
"Wot?" said Bill with a mental roll of his eyes. Did this man ever shut his trap?
"I wos thinkin' Bill…why don't you an' me…y'know…go on a job together? Maybe jus' once, see 'ow it is. We're both 'ousebreakers, ain't we? Not to mention it'd be an honour to see the great Bill Sykes a-"
Bill got abruptly to his feet, slamming his empty gin mug down on the table so hard that a few nearby customers turned to stare.
"I'm not interested," Bill hissed, glowering at Toby once more. He would have said more but Nancy had got to her feet too. She looked pleadingly at him, silently willing him not to turn violent again. Bill noticed this but it only made him angrier. She didn't understand, she couldn't understand… Jeremy had been like that when he first met Bill; deferent, in awe of his every move and gesture…Dodger had been the same…and now Toby.
Without another word Bill stalked from the table, Nancy hurrying along behind him, leaving a very confused Toby to order himself another drink.
--
Bill slammed the door to the flat so hard behind him it was wonder it didn't fall off its hinges. Nancy started at this display of emotion; Bill was clearly livid so she had better stay out of his way…
As she thought this she made to rekindle the fire but Bill verbally stopped her in her tracks.
"Wot wos tha' all about, eh?" he snarled.
Nancy knew Bill would want an answer.
"W-wot Bill?" she said, as quietly and subserviently as she could. She'd already fought with Bill once tonight; she couldn't stand another row…
"As if you don't know!" In an instant Bill had seized Nancy by her hair, his nails digging into her scalp. Nancy tried not to wince, not to make a sound, but she couldn't help it…he was so strong, so powerful, and he was hurting her… "You 'angin' aroun' wiv Evans like tha'! Evans! Wot the 'ell were you doin' wiv 'im, eh? 'E ain't your man; 'e ain't the one who gives you a roof over your 'ead and clothes on your back? Or is 'e?"
"Bill please!" Nancy cried, struggling to free herself to no avail. "You're making no sense! You told me to go to the Cripples tonight, you insisted! An' now you're furious wiv me cos I did wot you asked?"
"'Ow dare you back answer me like tha'!" Bill yelled, raising his hand as if to hit her, as he'd done before. But Nancy, despite not wanting to fight, despite everything…raised her own hand and struck the first blow.
Bill reeled backwards, his mouth agape. Nancy could see, even in the semi-darkness of the cramped flat, a red mark appearing on his cheek where she'd struck. She gasped; what had she done…how could she have possibly had the gall to do that…to hit Bill…her Bill…
The next thing she knew, Bill's hands were around her throat. She tried desperately to prize him off but he was too strong, his face contorted with rage…if looks could kill…Nancy was certain, for a brief moment, that he could kill, her, that he would kill her…Bill's face swam before her eyes…her tear-filled eyes…
As the corners of her vision faded to blackness, Bill relinquished his grip. Nancy collapsed onto the floor, struggling for breath. Bill felt as though he'd been near strangled to death himself; he was breathing hard, his hands clammy, his cheek still burning…
He had to get out.
Leaving Nancy still crumpled on the floor behind him, Bill wrenched open the door to the flat once more and stalked away into the night.
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A/N: It's drama, drama and more drama with the old Plot Fairy over here! XD
Please R&R!
