by Chris Hales
“Follow them,” pleaded Jonathan. “I want to know where they’re staying.”
76
“You need to help them, Jonathan,” screamed Mary in outrage.
He had sought Mary’s council immediately after his father’s departure. Their visit had affected him far more than he would ever admit. All of his previous emotion concerning his hatred for his father had come to the fore.
“What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “I never wanted anything to do with them. I ran away from them.” She could tell the event had affected him more than he would ever say.
She rose from her chair and walked to sit next to him. All of her girls had been sent away to leave them in peace. Her kitchen was the solitude he needed in this difficult time. “You’re different now, Jonathan,” comforted Mary. “You don’t have to run anymore.”
He explained to her in great detail about his visitors earlier in the evening. She could clearly see how angry and disturbed he was. He maintained he held no feelings of love for Anne but she knew such a statement not to be entirely true. He may not love her but he did care what his father did to her. That was the man she loved, the compassionate and caring man of great legend. She wouldn’t change it for anything.
He held her hands as she moved closer to him, trying to comfort in the simplest of ways. Kissing him on the cheek she revelled in his smell. “What do I do, Mary?” he asked, desperate for her assistance.
“You need to get them away from him,” she advised. “Take them by force if necessary.”
He laughed once in a pained fashion. “And take them where? Back to Wolverhampton?” He knew his father was a man of persistence. He would not let them go so easily.
“I wasn’t thinking of anything nearly so drastic,” she explained. “Bring them here. They’ll be safe in my house.”
He turned to her and kissed her deeply in thanks. “You’d do that?” he questioned lovingly.
“For you, yes,” she told him, kissing him back.
He pulled away slightly. “You don’t need to worry about me and Anne,” he said, sure Mary’s jealousy would rise as time passed.
“I’m not worried,” she laughed. “I trust you, Jonathan.” He fell into an embrace, perfectly content in her arms. “Now, just go get them,” she ordered with love.
77
He made love to Mary as he always did when tensions were high. It was extremely early in the morning by the time he found himself back at Cock Alley. Matthew was waiting for him, anxious to tell him of what he had learned.
He found him waiting in his study, every fibre of his being itching for a fight. Jonathan offered him a concerned glare as he entered and deposited his coat on a large chair. “What is it?” he asked. “Did you discover their destination?”
“Oh, yes,” he replied with a smirk, “but, you’re not going to like it.”
He was intrigued by his large friend’s words. He walked to his chair behind the desk and shooed him away. “Tell me where they went,” he ordered.
Matthew spoke clearly and slowly, so he couldn’t miss his awful point. “Charlie’s,” he waited for his response, knowing all too well he would also be led to the fight.
“Charles?” he asked. “Charles Hitchin?” he only nodded the affirmative.
His thoughts raced. They attacked him from every angle, boiling his blood and stiffening his heart. “It makes sense,” he commented. Only two people in London knew of his origins. Mary and…, Charles. Did the fat bastard contact the other bastard, hoping to confuse and force him into a corner? He found it difficult to think straight as he attempted to consider every possibility.
This made things more interesting. Somewhat more dangerous. A web of pure deceit seemed to be forming about him and he was unsure as to the next step he should take.
“What do you want to do about it?”“ Matthew asked. He didn’t understand why his father had chosen to seek out his son. He dared not ask. It was, however, clear Jacob was as painful and terrifying as Charlie. The two of them together was a sorry forecast for the future to be certain.
Surprisingly he began to laugh. Not for his amusement but in a worryingly pained fashion. He ran his hands across his face and through his long hair, summoning the strength and will to attack.
“We're not going to do anything about it right now,” he declared. “They'll be expecting that.” His laugh ended almost as abruptly as it had begun. “We go to get them in the daylight.”
78
When the sun had risen, Jonathan woke with a new purpose in life. Now he was in London not only to torment Charles Hitchin but to antagonise his father in addition.
It seemed everyone associated with him was eager to help. Only the select few, however, were asked to offer their assistance. He woke, dressing quickly and strapping his sword to his waist, he loaded his pistol and took a firm hold of his staff. Down the stairs he was greeted by Matthew, Ian and a few other strong and often violent men. It was then Jonathan gave his orders.
They would walk to Charles's house where he and Matthew would knock at the door. Distracting the two terrible men they would give Ian room to lead the others in through the back door. Anne and Joseph would be escorted away by those men and Jonathan could leave, happy his good deed had been completed successfully.
Each of the men seemed expectant for the fight and he explained how he would not enter into a confrontation, lest it endanger his wife and child. Sure none would disobey him they set out for the house of Charles Hitchin. Some part of him did hope his father put up a fight. He would have loved to see Matthew beat on him, showing him what violence truly was.
79
Jonathan banged loudly at the door, his head aching as memories of his father plagued his mind. He beat at the door a further two times before heavy footfalls approached from within. Swinging the door back, Charles looked to the visitors at his door.
“Jonathan,” he uttered with shock, although he didn’t appear surprised.
“Good morning Charles, may we enter?” It was hardly a request. Matthew pushed the door fully back and barged into the dark house, standing before the city marshal to keep him at bay. He looked about the house, his eyes searching for any sign of his father. “Where is he?”
“Where’s who?” he asked innocently.
He laughed as he walked to the base of the stairs. “You can come out now,” he shouted. “I know you're here. Don't make us search for you…,” he grinned evilly. “…, Jacob Wild!”
He turned to look at Hitchin with disapproving eyes, desperate for him to protest. Slowly a side door opened, his father stepping awkwardly through. He did not approach his son.
He pushed past both Hitchin and Jacob, entering the room from which his father had appeared. Matthew meanwhile herded Hitchin and Jacob from the proceedings, closing the door behind them all and standing before it, preventing any escape. Jonathan paced in small circles, stopping to glare at the city marshal. He was undecided as to who should receive the full force of his fury. Both had wronged him, although his father had been doing it far longer.
“I don't really need to ask which one of you contacted the other, do I.” It was an obviously rhetorical question. He had spent much of the night thinking about the reasons behind his father’s arrival. Hitchin’s warning about his family now made perfect sense. Jonathan noticed Hitchin was proudly wearing one of his father’s own belts. The large brass buckle reflected the light of the room.
Charles said nothing. He simply locked his eyes into a stare with Jonathan, who walked to his father, determined not to crumble as he knew he could.
“What was it which led you here?” he asked spitefully. “Greed? Or did you come simply to torment me and cause me pain?” He knew his vast fortune was of great interest to Hitchin. His father was equally as gluttonous for things of value. He knew the city marshal was more than capable of making contact with Jacob and forming a plan to rob him of his wealth. “You disgust me,” he added. “Do you honestly have no decency?”<
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Jacob raised a threatening hand but he caught it easily. “You dare talk to me like that, boy?” he bellowed.
Jonathan squeezed and twisted his wrist, hoping to cause pain. “I'm no longer your boy,” he spat. “I'm so much more.” He pushed his father away, causing him to stumble into the wall. Turning to Hitchin, he centred his attention on what he had come to think of as only ‘the fat man’. “Don't think you can trust him, father. He'll stab you in the back at the first opportunity.” Matthew slowly approached Jonathan with the intention of making the point he was protected. “What was your plan?” he asked. “Were you both scheming to kill me, drive me insane or just hoping the two of you could run me out of town?” Jonathan would have loved to attack them there and then but knew such action would only end in his death. Even with his protector at hand.
Hitchin laughed. He stood his ground, refusing to let the combination of Matthew and Jonathan intimidate him. “Jonathan,” he laughed. “You're too cautious, suspecting and paranoid. Do you really think we're so devious?” It was a simple question but he was not playing their games.
“Yes!” he laughed loudly. “I believe I'm a good judge of both of your characters,” he pushed into Hitchin lightly. “Stay out of my affairs, Charles, or I'll have to remove you forcefully.”
He looked to Matthew, who was probably one of the only men with whom Charles knew not to battle. Not because he was better in a fight but due to the fact he knew he was equally as strong and violent as he. Hitchin shook his head and pointed a single finger at him. “A fight? Is this truly what you want?”
Jonathan ignored him and strode to his father. “And you,” he spat forcefully. “This is the only warning I'll give,” his mouth twitched into a smile of pure dislike. “Stay away from me...,” his smile turned into a grimace, “..., and my family.” His expression slowly became a self-satisfied grin which appeared almost independently of his thoughts. It was a shame. It gave the game away.
Jacob looked to Hitchin, beliefs forming quickly in his mind. Rocketing to Matthew he pushed past. He stepped aside with amusement, Jonathan’s father vanishing quickly up the stairs. He moved away from the confused Hitchin who looked to Matthew and shrugged.
“Do you really think you can protect him from me?”
He chuckled. “I know I can.” He crossed his arms defiantly. “I'm not afraid of you. I never was. I only stayed away because I knew killing you would be far too much trouble.”
“Tell that to him,” he responded, looking to Jonathan.
Jacob suddenly entered the room, desperate to catch his breath. He looked to Hitchin for support. “They're gone!” It was a useless plea for help.
Hitchin took a step towards Jonathan, only stopping as Matthew followed. “Very clever,” he growled, “but do you really think that's going to stop us?”
Jonathan walked to his friend and started for the door. “I know it won't. It should, however, prove neither of you can hinder me anymore.” He patted him on the cheek and made for the door, chuckling as he did so.
Together the Thief Taker General and his right hand fled from the house, pleased their little gamble seemed to have worked perfectly.
80
“That's bloody perfect,” swore an angry Jacob. “What the hell do we do now?” He had never expected his son to be so forceful and sneaky. He considered it entirely unnatural.
Hitchin chuckled as he rested himself on a small table. “Do you really think I'm so easily beaten?” He suddenly approached, patting him on the arm. “Jonathan's over confidence will be his undoing.” He continued to quietly laugh. “This means nothing. It’s simply an inconvenience.”
Jacob wasn't prepared to give in so easily. Hitchin was, for some reason, convinced events would still work in their favour. Maybe he knew something he didn't. He had only come to London in the hope he could punish his son. Jonathan had abandoned everything he was supposed to hold dear. Protect and safeguard. The bother his son's disappearance had caused him was hardly worth detailing to any who listened. It was far too disappointing.
With no apprentice to help in his little shop and with no husband for his daughter-in-law, retirement and a life of ease seemed a distant hope. He needed to pay. He needed compensation. If Charles could help him achieve this then he would happily sign a deal with the devil.
81
Further down the street Jonathan and Matthew met with Ian and the other lads. He was impressed. They had broken the locks at windows and doors to the rear, entering and quietly creeping up the stairs. No suspicions had been raised. Joseph and his mother were found cowering in a darkened room, fearful of the commotion downstairs.
They were quickly led to the back door where they were quietly ushered outside and over the wall. Hitchin and Jacob never heard a thing. It had been perfect.
Anne ran into Jonathan's arms as he met them. She hugged him tightly and Matthew inspected the boy for any sign of injury.
“What about all of our things?” she wailed.
This sorry affair had been hell for her. She had no choice but to travel with Jacob to London. She always knew, however, Jonathan would help them. He wasn't nearly as cruel as his father.
“I'll buy anything you need,” he assured her.
Together they all walked to Mary's, Jonathan often thinking that being seen helping a young woman and her child would be very good for business.
He was sure he knew what Charles and his father were up to. He didn't know how they ever expected it to work. He could better each of them and maybe get some well-deserved revenge to boot. Now Anne and Joseph were safe, there was nothing they could do to him.
82
Mary was expecting them. She didn't know, however, how Anne would react to her relationship with Jonathan. Seeing her husband with another woman would be hell for her, of this she was sure. Only Isabel remained with Mary to greet their guests.
Mary wasn't prepared to hide things from her. There was little point. She would soon discover the purpose of her house.
Jonathan entered with Anne, and Joseph in tow. Matthew avoided the uncomfortable meeting, rushing to Isabel and kissing her deeply as the bewildered child looked on. Mary rushed to the Thief Taker, embracing and kissing in a purposeful display of affection. Anne needed to know Jonathan was clearly out of her reach.
“You'll be staying here,” he explained. “This is a safe place and my boys are always watching.” Anne nodded her understanding. The Thief Taker offered his protection against both Jacob and Charles. Trusting Mary could handle Anne and the explanations of the rules of her home, he presently departed.
She had prepared a room for Anne and her son. She described how this room and the kitchen, were the only places they were permitted to venture into. She knew what the house was and desperately tried not to think about it. Joseph was, unsurprisingly, ignorant to everything.
“You and Jonathan are...,” she questioned, “..., together?”
“Is that a problem?” she returned coldly. Anne did not have an answer. She shook her head and flustered about, straightening her son’s clothes. “I know you still feel attached to Jonathan,” this was clear to anyone who looked on, “but he is mine now. So long as you understand this we'll have no problems.” It was a clear warning and Anne would do best to observe it well.
She didn't like it, but knew it was not debateable. Her life was changing, and Jonathan wanted no part of it. She could fight both her husband and Mary but she doubted it would get her anywhere.
Jacob was another matter entirely. She knew he would try hard to involve himself in her affairs. Her husband’s suggestion she should simply avoid him until he went away would not be so easy. She knew Jacob better than that. His anger would be felt a hundred miles away.
He would find her again and hurt her. She knew this above all else.
Silly mistakes
83
Both Jacob and his new compatriot Charles Hitchin vigilantly stayed out of the limelight, desperate to avoid Jonathan's att
ention. The Thief Taker knew, however, they were always watching.
Hitchin had overstepped his bounds. He only dreamt of being restored to his former state of glory. The only way he could achieve this was if Jonathan abandoned his business and the City of London. Using his father against him was the simplest and cruellest method of doing so.
Trade for Jonathan returned to normal and every day Joseph would read to his mother stories of the Thief Taker. They spent most of their time shut in their room, only venturing into the kitchen to eat. Anne tried to ignore the events within the house. It disgusted her but, as she was constantly reminded, she had little option but to comply.
She often heard him arrive, talking to Mary and making a fuss of her. It hurt, she wouldn't deny this. Jonathan may have been lost to her but she prayed every night he would return to her loving bosom.
She still turned rigid at the very thought of Jacob. Nothing could ease her painful memories of him. He wasn't done with her or Jonathan. She was sure of it. Where he would take them next was a matter of great concern.
84
The theatre was generally considered a very good night out by the middle and upper classes. They would descend upon it in droves, massing around as if they were starving children desperate for a healthy meal.
They had gathered for a performance of the Bard's play, A Midsummer Night's Dream. The new routine had been highly rated by the critics and its popularity had been proven by the number hoping to attend. Spirits were high as people flooded to the entrance and carriages pulled up outside. The rich and the wealthy arrived in their droves, but this was also a common scene for pickpockets and criminals of disrepute.
Peter was one such thief. A pickpocket of great talent he often came to the theatre dressed in his finest clothes hoping he could more easily blend into the surroundings. He watched the carriages arrive, observing the occupants closely. He looked on as women were helped down by their drivers.
