Chapter Forty-Four – Guilt With A Smile
Months passed, three at least, although Sykes couldn't be sure. He and Toby had been on so many expeditions since the first one that it was hard to count and even harder to remember every detail of them all. Toby's methods, Bill thought, were unorthodox, and most certainly not his style. But, to his surprise, they worked. And that was what mattered. The pair's last raid in particular had meant income to last at least a fortnight; unusual to say the least in the case of the pair's notoriously stingy fence.
Nancy, for her part in these proceedings, was pleased that Bill had found a new partner so he no longer needed to bear the risk of capture alone. But at the same time she hated what this meant; if two men had to go instead of one surely it implied danger, more of a risk. Not to mention the man himself, Toby Crackit…there was something about him that Nancy disliked and couldn't trust. It wasn't just his over-confident air or his flamboyant mannerisms; there was something else about him…something she couldn't place. The fact that Bill now spent so much time in his company only made things worse.
Every time Bill left the flat for Toby's Nancy would implore him, beseech him…on occasion she would outright beg for him not to go. She wanted him to stay with her, for things to go back to the way they were, when it was just the two of them. She didn't want him to risk his neck for a few of Fagin's coins.
But Bill didn't understand this; how could he? He couldn't read Nancy's mind. He would ignore her, push her away, leave without saying goodbye.
Things between him and Nancy had changed; he could sense it. Gone, it seemed, were those days of loving bliss and tranquility; the tenderness and kindness he had once displayed for Nancy felt all but gone. Nancy was afraid of him; that much he knew. Ever since that night when Bill had forced her to return to the Cripples she'd been a changed person; jumping at his raised voice, continually casting her gaze downwards and refusing to meet his eyes…
She'd changed. He'd changed.
And change brings out the best in some…and the worst in others.
--
"Bill? Your dinner's ready!"
Nancy stood by the neatly laid table and ladled stew into a bowl. The aforementioned housebreaker looked up from where he'd been preparing the evening's weaponry and glowered at the girl before him. Nancy lowered her eyes instinctively; she knew that look. Something was wrong; she didn't know what yet but she would most certainly soon find out.
"Where's the gin, Nance?" Bill growled.
Only then did Nancy recall, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that Bill had finished off the last of the gin the previous night. She'd been recruited by Fagin earlier that day to help nurse one of the boy's who'd fallen ill; what with all the to-do she'd neglected to buy more gin, neglected to perform a simple task, a mundane, trivial task which, she now knew from bitter experience, was about to cost her dearly.
"Th-there's no more," she stuttered. She could feel herself shaking.
Bill was not impressed.
"Wot's tha'?" he snarled, his voice steadily increasing in volume as he got to his feet and stalked towards Nancy. To most people an evening glass of gin was a trivial matter of little importance; if there was none in the larder they'd settle for a mug of beer or some other spirit instead. But not Bill Sykes. He needed to fortify himself for the night's expedition and, in his opinion and experience; a stiff mug of gin was the only way to do so.
Nancy took an involuntary step backwards; Bill towered over her, his hair untamed and wild, his eyes blazing, his hands curled into fists. It amazed her how angry Bill could get over a glass of gin; heaven knows how furious he'd be if she did something truly unforgivable. But then, she reasoned, she'd never do something like that. She would never want to harm Bill, she wanted to protect him. She loved him.
"Wot's tha'?" Bill repeated, shouting now. "Wot did you say?"
The terrified girl shook her head wildly, backing away still further, too terrified to say a word.
"Answer me, woman!"
In the split second it took for Nancy to open her mouth to attempt a reply she felt Bill's hand connect sharply with her head. She crumpled to the ground; the reply gone only to be replaced with a whimper of pain. She looked up at Bill and attempted to shield herself from the next blow but to no avail. Time and again he struck her until her feeble whimpers became cries for mercy. She was dimly aware of Bulls-Eye howling pitifully and scratching at the door as if trying to escape the room…but the dog too had no success.
Bill didn't care for the screams and cries that met his ears, didn't care for the furious red welts he saw appearing on Nancy's skin nor the tears streaming down her face. He was blinded by fury, entrapped in rage. It was as though a web of anger had him entangled, he couldn't escape, he felt unable to stop…
After what felt like hours the pain dimmed, the blows ceased. Nancy lay there, huddled on the ground, her cheeks burning with guilt, pain and shame. She risked a glance upwards.
Bill stared down at the fallen Nancy, breathing heavily. He glanced from her to his hands and back again, the old nightmareish feeling of guilt washing over him, the emotion he only allowed himself to fall prey to in dreams. It didn't help that Nancy was looking up at him now, her cheeks stained with tears, her lip trembling.
He'd sworn he wouldn't hit her again; all those months ago…it had been an empty promise. He should have known.
As she continued to gaze up at him his guilt grew stronger until he felt it would overwhelm him and he himself would break down in tears. He tore his gaze from hers wrenched open the door to the flat and stalked away, unable to find the words he so desperately needed to say.
He'd sworn he wouldn't hit her…
But she'd deserved it…
For not buying gin? Was that just cause for so violent a beating?
Who cares for excuses?
The battle continued to rage inside his head even after he'd downed a mug of the aforementioned spirit at the Three Cripples and thereafter directed his footsteps towards Toby Crackit's. He felt guilty in more ways than one as he went about the job that night. When he returned to Bethnal Green and found the flat empty he was momentarily thrown into blind panic; terrified that what he'd done had caused her to leave him for good. But even as he thought this, he knew she wouldn't. He knew she loved him.
But how could she?
Nancy returned from the Cripples as she usually did, a fresh bottle of gin clutched tight her hand, her face caked with dried tears. Bill turned to face her, but still appropriate words of apology failed him. Instead he took the bottle from her hand took a large gulp. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her smile weakly, pleased, relieved.
"Wot you smilin' at?" Bill asked, placing the bottle on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn't ask unkindly though…he sounded for a moment like the old Bill, the one Nancy had fallen for.
"I…I'm glad you like the gin Bill…" Nancy replied, somewhat hesitantly. "Cripples' finest…only the best fer you."
Bill gave a small smirk of his own.
Nancy should have known Bill's good humor wouldn't stay long, she should have known it was too good to last. It always was. But she couldn't help returning the smile.
"Bill?" she said softly, after a moment. "You do love me don't ya?"
"Of course I do," said Bill without pause to think. "I live wiv you don't I?"
The pair of them shared a laugh…as it turned out; it would be the last laugh they'd share for a long, long time.
If either of them had known what was to come, if either of them had even anticipated the possibility, just for that moment…but they didn't.
It never occurred to them.
Why should it?
For that moment, all they had was each other. And that was what mattered.
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A/N: I love foreshadowing. XD What I hinted at at the end of this chapter probably won't be what you're anticipating…I'm so nasty… -cackles- Not bad for a chapter penned on a schoolbus careering down a mountain in the middle of nowhere filled with loudly talking adolescents and annoyingly loud popular music blaring from someone's speakers, eh?
Anyway…
R&R my pretties! =)
