‘You think I’m milking Frank and his family for money?’
‘Well, ain’t you?’
I was about to make a virulent denial, but then remembered the guineas Frank had had to shell out to cover my expenses at school. ‘They’re my friends,’ I said lamely.
‘They’re the best kind of milk cow, Cat, as I’m sure you know.’
‘How would you know, not having any friends to speak of?’
Shepherd came to a sudden stop. I thought for a moment that I had gone too far, but I was wrong.
‘This is it, Moggy,’ he announced.
I looked up. We were standing in front of a once fine building, a vast place with many windows and a pillared porch. It was surrounded by a high wall with an iron gate set in an archway. But the gracious elegance was all gone, replaced by boarded gaps where once had been glass, missing slates, and filth-smeared walls. ‘This is Rats’ Castle.’
I thought the place was just a legend. Rats’ Castle was an old leper hospital, built by benevolent gentlemen in the days when the Rookeries had been a respectable part of town – a stylish dumping ground for those inflicted with severe skin diseases where they could rot away surrounded by opulence. It had fallen far and now seemed more like a leper victim itself, as if the ailments of its former inhabitants had transferred into the stones. No one had repaired the building for decades but they had added to it in a bizarre and haphazard fashion. The castle’s old isolation had been breeched by rickety wooden walkways connecting it to the roofs of the neighbouring slums. Shacks had sprouted on the slates and against the walls like fungi on a rotting trunk, giving shelter to hundreds of people.
‘That’s where we’re goin’,’ said Shepherd, thumbing towards a ladder leaning against the wall. It connected to one of the highest walkways. ‘Are you game for the jaunt, Moggy?’
‘All right,’ I said, feeling my mouth go dry.
‘But I’ll have to blindfold you.’ He pulled a blue silk handkerchief from his pocket like a conjuror. ‘There are certain secrets about this place I don’t want you to see.’
‘You can’t be serious?’
‘It’s clean – well, quite clean,’ said Shepherd, giving the handkerchief a sniff.
‘I don’t mean the wipe – you want me to walk across there blind?’
‘Yeah. Why? Is that a problem, Miss Royal?’
‘Of course it’s a problem, you idiot! I’ll kill myself.’
‘Nah you won’t. I’ll be guidin’ you. You’ll just have to trust me.’
‘But I don’t . . .’
‘Trust me,’ he finished. ‘I know. But it’s part of the fun. Why do you think I’m doin’ this if not to make you sweat a little?’
‘Boil, you are the biggest pile of dung ever produced by a pox-ridden, fart-filled cow,’ I fumed as he tied the handkerchief around my eyes.
‘You’re just sayin’ that ’cause you love me so much,’ he said. Even with my eyes bound, I was sure he was grinning. ‘Come on, ’old me ’and.’ He took me to the ladder and curled my fingers around the bottom rung. ‘Now climb till I say stop.’
I did as I was told, trying not to think about the many tricks he could play on me in this situation. Did he think he could get away with telling Syd that I’d fallen by accident? Surely not: he’d know Syd would blame him for anything that happened to me.
‘Right, Moggy, stop there.’ I could feel a cold breeze on my face as if we were high up above the level of the surrounding buildings. ‘If you reach in front of you, you’ll find a platform. Step on to it.’ It was as he said. I stood on the boards not daring to move. I doubted there would be a rail to catch me if I strayed. ‘Take me ’and. This time I go first.’
‘You think your scaring me, don’t you, Boil,’ I said, more to keep my spirits up than anything as we edged along the walkway. ‘Well, you’re wrong.’
‘Oh, am I?’ he said archly. ‘Then you won’t mind if I let go of your ’and then?’ He pulled himself free of my grip. ‘And wot if I jump up and down a bit to keep warm?’ His boots thumped on the planks, making the whole walkway judder. I staggered, arms flailing. ‘Oh, and mind the ’ole in front of you.’ I gave a shriek and threw myself in the direction of his voice, catching hold of his legs as my foot fell through into nothingness. ‘Still not scared, Cat?’ he asked as he put his arms around me to haul me back to my feet. ‘So why are you shakin’ like a leaf, eh?’
I pushed him away. ‘Don’t, Billy! Don’t do that again.’ But there was no point in pleading with someone as ruthless as him.
‘Don’t do wot? This?’ He began to jump again. The walkway groaned and creaked.
There was only one thing for it. I pushed past him and set off unaided across the planks.
‘Wot you doin’, you daft cow?’ he called after me. I stomped on. If I fell, it was his gold, his gang that he would forfeit. I guessed he was not going to lose all that if he could help it. The jumping stopped and he swiftly took my arm again.
‘I say one thing for you, Cat: you’ve got more pluck than all me boys put together,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Almost there now.’
The feeling of the air changed as we entered the building. It smelt damp and foul as if rubbish had accumulated here for years and festered where it lay. Shepherd turned me round a few times then took off my blindfold. I couldn’t see exactly what part of the building we were in because all the windows were boarded. The only light came from a lantern swinging from a hook in the ceiling. Plaster hung loosely from the walls like trailing bandages, giving a glimpse of dark rooms beyond.
‘Where’s Pedro?’ I asked. This room was empty, apart from two wooden chairs and a table.
‘I told you ’e was bein’ kept close,’ said Shepherd, going to an iron ring set in the floor and pulling on it. With a creak, he raised the trapdoor to reveal a windowless hole in the belly of this rotting corpse of a house.
‘Who’s there?’ a faint voice called up from inside.
‘Pedro!’ I cried, rushing to the edge of the cavity.
‘Is that you, Cat? Have you come to get me out?’ Pedro asked, his voice full of hope.
‘Nah, Blackie,’ Shepherd called out cheerfully. ‘But she can come down and visit you if she wants.’ He took a ladder that was leaning against a wall and lowered it into the hole. ‘Off you go, Cat. Give a whistle when you want to come up.’ He handed me the lantern and settled himself down at the table, conjuring up a bottle from the pockets of his jacket to keep him company.
I’d come this far: I had to go the last few steps even if they were into a pit no bigger than a cupboard and darker than a moonless night. I could touch the damp walls with my arms outstretched – it was frighteningly like being trapped in a chimney flue. I’d heard of sweeps who had got stuck and suffocated in the dark: it had always been one of my worst nightmares to imagine their suffering. Biting down hard on my fear, I descended the ladder and held up my lantern. Pedro was sitting on the edge of a mattress, empty plate and bottle by his side, staring at me in amazement.
I put the lantern on the floor and hugged him. ‘It’s so good to see you again, Pedro,’ I said, half-sobbing.
Pedro pulled away. ‘Have they caught you too?’ he asked fearfully.
‘No. Shepherd brought me here.’
‘Why?’
‘No idea. He said you asked to see me.’
‘I did – but I thought he was joking when he said he’d bring you. He’s been quite decent really.’ Pedro looked down at the floor. He seemed different somehow – resigned, crushed, weighed down by the memories of the past. ‘He talks to me when he’s got the time, makes sure I have enough food and water. He’s told the boys who guard me not to hurt me.’
That put a new complexion on things.
‘I didn’t realize,’ I said softly.
‘Didn’t realize what?’
‘That he’s your gaoler.’
‘Of course. My master’s paid him to keep me here – like he paid that piano tuner to snatch me from
the house.’
‘Your old master, Pedro,’ I corrected him, worried by this new turn of phrase.
Pedro said nothing, but he let go of my hand.
‘What’s going to happen to you? Do you know?’ I asked, trying to be practical.
‘They’re taking me to Jamaica, they say. That’s if I don’t manage to kill myself first, of course.’ He gave me a bitter smile. ‘I tried to throw myself off that wooden bridge up there but they caught me. That’s why I’m down here.’
I’d contemplated giving Pedro the knife but this changed my mind. If I couldn’t get him out of here tonight, I certainly wasn’t going to leave him alone with it.
‘Look, Pedro, it’s only Shepherd up there at the moment. He’s unarmed. Why don’t we try and make a run for it?’ I whispered.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ I asked, beginning to feel annoyed by his defeatism. ‘If we’re quick enough up the ladder, we can overpower him and escape.’
‘This is why.’ He pointed to his neck. I lifted the lantern and saw that he was wearing an iron collar attached by a chain to the wall.
‘Oh, Pedro!’ I couldn’t help it: I began to cry. All that I had been through over the last few weeks, all that Pedro was suffering, came out in a storm of tears. I buried my head on his shoulder. He held me tight, offering comfort when it was him that needed it most.
‘You mustn’t worry about me, Cat,’ he said bravely. ‘It won’t be so bad. I’ll find a way out in the end. They can’t watch me forever.’
‘We’ll help you,’ I said, furious with myself. I wiped my eyes on my cloak. ‘Mr Sharp knows how to stop you being taken against your will.’
‘He has to find me first,’ said Pedro grimly.
‘And we will. I know where you are now. That’s got to help. You mustn’t give up hope.’ I couldn’t leave him like this. I wished I could give him something to remind him that he had friends. Of course! ‘Have this.’ I pressed the pottery medallion into his hand. ‘And you should take this back too.’ I threaded the pearl earring through his lobe. ‘It’s a sign of your freedom, Pedro – of your talent and your success.’
Pedro gripped the medallion hard and then touched his earring back in its old familiar place. ‘Thank you, Cat. I’m going to miss you.’
‘Not for long, because we’ll both be back home soon.’
‘Home?’ he asked wistfully.
‘Drury Lane, of course.’ I sat back next to him, arm against arm, looking up at the open trapdoor. ‘Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.’
‘Well, well, well! If it ain’t the little gal herself, flown right into the net.’ I gave a scream as Kingston Hawkins’ head appeared in the black square above us. ‘Ain’t that just dandy.’
‘Careful, Cat!’ hissed Pedro as I scaled the ladder as fast as I could, anger at being trapped running red hot through my veins.
‘Boil, you lying toad!’ I yelled, sure that this had all been part of his grand plan for the night.
Hawkins raised his foot to kick me back down the ladder but he was hauled back by Shepherd.
‘Not the girl, sir,’ he said. ‘You can’t ’ave Cat.’
‘But . . .!’ spluttered Hawkins in surprise.
‘Our agreement is for the boy only. The girl’s my business.’
I emerged out into the room and found Shepherd and Hawkins glaring at each other either side of the table. I didn’t know which one I hated most. I flew at Hawkins, hitting out with feet and hands in a fury.
‘You beast! I hope your own slaves chop you to pieces and feed you to your dogs. You evil pile of –’
I was pulled off him by a strong pair of arms, a blue handkerchief forced into my mouth to cut off my torrent of abuse.
‘Leave it, Cat,’ said Shepherd, increasing his grip on me as I struggled. ‘I can’t ’ave you abusin’ a client.’
‘So, Shepherd, this is how you repay my investment in you,’ said Hawkins coldly as he brushed himself down.
‘Wot I do ’ere is none of your business, Mr ’Awkins,’ said Shepherd. ‘As long as the boy’s delivered safe and sound, wot do you care? Anyway, why you come ’ere? I told you it’s not safe.’
‘I’m just checking on the merchandise.’
‘’E’s in top condition, ready to go whenever you say the word.’
‘But the brat knows where he is now.’
‘That’s no matter. I was thinkin’ of movin’ ’im somewhere else. Somewhere she’ll never find ’im.’
‘But I’ve a score to settle with her.’ Hawkins flexed his fist, which I was pleased to see was still bandaged. I shrank back closer to Shepherd, preferring the devil I knew to the one I didn’t.
‘Not till after I’ve delivered ’er back to her friends tonight. I’ve pledged me word not to ’arm ’er,’ said Shepherd. ‘After that, good luck to you, sir. But I should warn you: our Cat ’ere has the knack of gettin’ out of tight corners. I’d put my money on ’er rather than you.’
‘Then to hell with your word. I’ll do for her now!’ With a bone-chilling scrape, Hawkins drew a sword from his cane and brought it whistling down towards my throat. Shepherd thrust his hand into the pocket of my cloak and pulled out the blade Syd had given me, bringing it up still caught in the folds of cloth, to block the downstroke.
He’d known I had the knife all along.
‘Now, Mr ’Awkins,’ said Shepherd menacingly, ‘don’t get me angry. I’ve said no and I mean no.’
Hawkins took a step back and cut the air with his swordstick. ‘Remember who’s paying you, Shepherd.’
‘For the boy only.’
‘But what are you going to do against this?’ Hawkins flourished the evil-looking blade. ‘Your six inches of steel ain’t goin’ to stop this for long.’
‘This is wot I’ll do,’ said Shepherd. So quickly I missed the flick, he hurled the knife across the room. It struck the corner of Hawkins’ hat and clattered to the floor in the shadows.
‘That wasn’t very wise – you didn’t hurt me and now you’ve lost your weapon.’
‘I wasn’t tryin’ to ’it you, ’Awkins – if I ’ad, you wouldn’t still be talkin’. As for losing my blade, I’ve got plenty more where that beauty came from.’ With a strange movement of his wrist, a second knife appeared in front of me from up Shepherd’s sleeve. ‘Been throwin’ blades since I was a nipper. Do you still want to argue over the girl? Like I said, nobody kills Cat except me – and tonight she’s my guest.’
A small vein throbbed in Hawkins’ temple, beating out his fury. I could see a succession of thoughts pass across his face. He realized his chances were slim: he was in the centre of Shepherd’s empire and had just been given proof of the skills that brought his associate to be the cock on top of this particular dungheap. He decided to make light of it.
‘Have it your way, Shepherd.’ He replaced the sword in his cane with a clunk. ‘If it is you that has the pleasure of cutting short her miserable life, I just hope you make the end long and painful.’
‘I’ll see wot I can do, sir.’ Shepherd released his grip on me and vanished his knife up his sleeve again.
‘I s’pose you don’t have any objection to me inspecting my goods?’
Shepherd took off my gag. ‘’Elp yourself, sir.’ Hawkins moved to the head of the ladder. ‘Why don’t you ’ave a little friendly chat with ’im while you wait ’ere for me? I’ve got to take the girl back. We can discuss further arrangements when I return.’
I did not want to imagine Pedro’s feelings as he saw his old master descending into his cell. I couldn’t stop myself. ‘Please, don’t hurt him!’ I pleaded.
Hawkins paused, his head now level with the floor. He gave me a wicked grin. ‘I hadn’t been planning to, but now you’ve asked . . .’
I turned away so he wouldn’t see my expression. I hated him – every foul inch of his body. I wanted to stamp on him, crush him, but there was nothing I could do.
‘Let’s go, Billy,’ I said. ‘I can’t
bear being in the same room as him any longer.’
ACT IV
SCENE 1 – ELECTRA-FYING
‘Wot’s the matter, Moggy? You’re very quiet. Cat got your tongue?’ Shepherd laughed as he steered me back through the alleyways.
I knew he wouldn’t understand what it was like to leave a friend in trouble. He wouldn’t be able to comprehend even a minute fraction of the torrent of emotion that was sweeping through me – none of my fear, anger and anxiety.
‘You won’t let him hurt Pedro, will you, Billy?’ I asked, knowing it was useless, but I had to try something.
‘None of my business wot ’e does with ’is boy, Moggy.’
‘But Pedro isn’t his boy. He’s his own master.’
‘There’s few of us can say that. Anyways, that’s all too deep for me. I’m doin’ a job – that’s all.’
‘Well, in that case, couldn’t we buy Pedro from you? I’m sure we can pay more than Hawkins is giving you for the job, as you call it.’
Shepherd slapped me on the back and chuckled. ‘Now you’re thinkin’ like me, Cat. But no thanks. I ’ave me name to protect among the cantin’ crew. If they knew I’d double-crossed a client, me reputation would be mud.’
‘It’s a strange time to discover morality, Billy,’ I muttered angrily.
‘It’s not morality: it’s business.’ The clock in St Giles struck the quarter. ‘We’d better get our skates on, Moggy. I don’t want your Syd nickin’ me knives for bein’ a few minutes late.’
It had been a strange, terrible night. I felt exhausted and could hardly keep up with Shepherd as he walked briskly back towards the Pantheon. My boots rubbed and my toes were frozen. Tripping on a broken paving stone, I fell on all fours into a foul-smelling puddle. Shepherd turned and watched me stagger back to my feet. He was smiling.
‘I ’ope you enjoyed our little jaunt together,’ he said as I wiped the mud off my hands. ‘I ’ave. I’ll say one thing for you, there’s never a dull moment when you’re around, wot with everyone who meets you wantin’ to kill you.’
Cat Among the Pigeons Page 13
