The sun was sinking fast over the rooftops of London and somewhere in the distance St. Paul's bells rang out eight ‘o' clock. The streets were packed, full of hustle and bustle and people heading every which way. Some scurrying towards their homes, aching for the comfort of a bed after a long days work. Others were just coming out - the prostitutes and the thieves and the murderers - the types that the respectable folk treated like they were a lower form of life than themselves. People like Willie.
Most respectable people were already inside for the night - their stomachs bloated with a big, full meal and the children headed upstairs to their beds. Willie had never actually known a ‘respectable person' in his whole life. Sure, he saw them on the streets - the men with their wigs and tidy, bright frock coats and the women with their sweet smelling hair and glittery bobbles - but they meant no more to him than a means to a quick and steady income.
Willie pushed his way through the crush of bodies that filled the cramped alley-way that was his regular route home, making sure to keep his grungy frock coat wrapped tight around him and his ‘new' hat under his arm. Even pick-pockets could be pick-pocketed if they weren't careful.
He stopped at Ms. Seagram's for a piece of meat and some bread that he would drop off for Mother and the boys. He would have rather just given Mother some coins to buy the food herself, but the last time he had done that he had found Tom and Charlie starving and alone and Mother no where in sight for three whole days. So now he brought food. She couldn't do anything dangerous with a loaf of bread.
Ms. Seagram was the only person Willie knew who would take jewelry and snuff boxes in leu if coins, so he frequented her shop regularly. She was a kind woman of about thirty-eight. Well kept for her age and still very beautiful. Willie had slept with her daughter Rose once or twice when he was about eighteen or so. A very nice family all in all.
"On to your mother's then Willie?" Ms. Seagram asked
as she showed him the sorry looking piece of ham he had selected before
wrapping it in a piece of paper.
"Yes Madam," he smiled, " How is Rose is doing
of late?"
"Oh, she and her husband are quite content. The
child should be born by Christmastime" Ms. Seagram glowed, passing
Willie the pork and bread. "Have a good evening Willie. Take care."
Once again outside, he pushed his way through the crowd toward the corner. An old man with no teeth came out of nowhere, and began clawing at Willie's face but was quickly knocked away. Willie could feel the pork juices seeping through the pocket of his frock coat and the leg of his britches. Cold and slimy. Out of the corner of his eye Willie saw John Pole sink a knife into some careless bugger's throat, his mad eyes bugging out like a frog's as he twisted the blade and then let the poor sod fall. Willie's averted his eyes quickly before John Pole saw him, and quickened his pace. The sooner he got to Mother's the better.
As he neared the corner Willie's face brightened. A few yards ahead, a pretty blonde girl stood in the flickering lamp light. Her face was powdered a milky white and her mouth was stained the color of blood. She wore very little despite the chill that was beginning to creep into the air, and her face had the look of one that had seem too much for someone of such tender years.
Lottie was standing where she always stood. Across the street from Duncan Murray's tavern and kiddy-corner to where the other prostitutes gathered to boast their wares. The other prostitutes didn't like Lottie. They thought that she thought she was better than the rest of them. And they were right.
Willie had grown up next door to Lottie, and had watched her grow into the beautiful woman he was walking towards now. Their bedroom windows had faced each other and when they were young, Willie and Lottie had spent many nights whispering stories to each other in the darkness. Later on - after Lottie's father had left her and her mother - he would watch her undress for bed. Lottie knew, of course, that he watched her, and would deliberately undress as slowly as she could. He knew that she relished the attention.
Willie had spent most of his life desperately in love with Lottie Sturge.
"Willie!" she exclaimed as he emerged from the mass
and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek, "I was thinking you might not
show up. Maybe found another pretty girl to go bother."
"Never. You're the only girl I'll ever want
to bother."
Lottie laughed (he loved her laugh), "Well,
I can still dream. So, why're you so late tonight my love?"
"I was busy shopping for a new hat," he said
as he pulled the hat out from under his arm and sat it on his head at a
precarious angle. Willie made a pompous face and took a few steps either
way in front of Lottie, modeling his new possession.
Lottie giggled to herself, shaking her head. She leaned back against
the wall behind her and watched Willie make a jack-ass out of himself.
She loved watching him act like an arse. It dulled the pain and humiliation
of doing what she did. Willie was the only thing in Lottie's life that
made her happy, and - watching him as he modeled the hat that he had stolen
earlier that
day - she chided herself for not bedding and marrying the bugger when
she had the chance.
"You are such a queer little bugger Willie!"
Willie grinned and leaned against the wall
next to Lottie, "I am aren't I?"
Lottie laughed some more, her cheeks flushing
through her face paint, " So where did you get the hat?"
"Some idiot fop. ‘Was sitting in some cafe
and was actually simple enough to set it down next to him . . . pompous
prat."
"It doesn't really go with your coat though
Willie."
"Then I'll have to find myself a new coat."
"And britches."
"And britches."
"And a shirt and stockings."
Willie gave Lottie a look, "Oh yes, and then
I can dress up in all my elegant finery and break into a house or two.
I'll ‘come a target like all those dandy fops that I makes my living off.
Brilliant Lottie. Truly brilliant."
Lottie's face fell at Willie's harsh words. An uncomfortable silence
suddenly fell over the two. They turned their eyes away from each other,
both staring uncomfortably at the cobblestone beneath their feet. Willie
could feel the pork slime that had seeped through his britches and now
slathered the side of his leg. Warm and uncomfortable. He wished he hadn't
opened his mouth. He wished he could take it back. He wished he could take
her away from this corner and this street and lie next to her in bed at
night and watch her sleep.
"So Lottie Sturge, when are you going to come home
with me?" he said, begging God that it would break the silence and all
would be forgiven.
Lottie's face melted into a sly smile. They'd
had this conversation a thousand times before.
"Do you want to bed me Willie?"
"No more than some, no less than others."
"Do you want to be my lover Willie?"
Willie gave Lottie a tasty smirk, "Depends
on what it would take."
"So?"
"So what would it take for you to come home
with me and be my lover, Lottie Sturge?"
Lottie was quiet for a moment as if she were thinking of an answer
to the question. She already knew what she was going to say. What she always
said.
"If you can show me fifteen p. that you didn't
nick out of some gent's pocket or win in a crooked grift I'll come home
with you and be yours for the rest of my life."
Willie snorted, "Lottie, you an' I both know
I've never made an honest shilling in my life!"
Lottie shook her head and shrugged her shoulders
playfully, "Those are my terms. Sorry Willie my love."
Willie shrugged his shoulders and gave Lottie a little half-smirk, trying to look as if it was all a joke. But every single time Willie had asked what it would take, deep down inside a part of him was always praying that she would say ‘Nothing Willie my love. Take me home'.
Willie stood up and straightened his hat, "Well
Lottie, sorry you see it like that. But you know what?"
"What?"
"One day I'll wear you down Lottie Sturge
and you'll have to come home with me."
Lottie laughed as she stood up straight, "Of
course you will Willie. Now go home and sleep and I will see you in the
morrow."
Willie gave Lottie a quick peck on the cheek, adjusted his hat one more time, and started down the street towards Mother's house again. He looked back only once as he turned into an alley, watching Lottie try to charm a customer into taking her home for a moment before turning away and disappearing into the alley.
A block away from Mother's, Willie lost his footing and slammed into a young gentleman wearing a blue frock coat. The gentleman grabbed Willie, stopping his fall, and set him back on his feet.
"Watch where you're going!" Willie snapped
at the gentleman as he pulled away and pushed past him.
The gentleman grabbed Willie by the scruff
of his collar, jerking him around, and looked him straight in the eyes,
"Where I come from a man like you does not address
a gentleman in such a fashion." the gentleman said with a thick brogue.
Willie wrenched his collar out of the gentleman's
grasp, and gave him a spiteful sneer, "Well we aren't where you're from
now are we Sir," Willie quipped back, "Sod off!"
Willie stormed off down the alley that led to Mother's, snickering
under his breath. Once he knew he was out of the gentlman's sight, Willie
carefully wriggled his 'new' coin purse and snuff box out of his coat sleeve
and put them in his left pocket with the rest of the day's haul. He would
give Charlie some of the coins for safe keeping - just incase Mother forgot
to buy food again - when he got to the house.
Angelus was already inside Murray's tavern when he noticed that his coin purse and snuff box were missing. It didn't take a second before he realized that they had been taken by the curly haired young man who had bumped into him. Immediately his blood began to boil with fury. No one ever stole from Angelus. No one ever stole from Angelus and lived.
First I'm going to eat the little bastard and then I'm going to tear him to pieces!
Angelus was halfway to the door when he stopped dead in his tracks. A small smirk crept across his face as he thought of the gall the young man had . . . to pick his pockets and then actually talk back. A small burst of laughter escaped Angelus' lips before he could stop it . . .
The nerve. What absolutely brilliant nerve!
Angelus sat back down at his table and ordered another ale. His mind racing with thoughts he hadn't ever really entertained before.
How was he going to find the young man?
How was he going to find the young man?
How was he going to find the young man?
Oh, how much fun it would be to spend eternity with that audacious
young man!