be on outs with the V... Mr Stug, right?”
There was a porcelain dog with an expression of sneering idiocy and a dusty ruff around its neck staring down at Evvie from the grimy mantel. She looked at it while she considered. “All right,” she said. “I know. I ain’t planning to make trouble and I ain’t naming no names. Anything I hear, I didn’t hear off of you.”
“S’all very well,” said Peg, “but how do I know?”
Evvie let out a small sigh. It was partly genuine, too – after talking to Bat and seeing the room, it was almost too easy to guess where Peg’s lever was.
“I think,” she said, “he’s up to no good – and it’s something to do with children.”
Peg wrapped her arms around herself, as though she was cold. “Here,” she said, “you fancy a drop of porter? I always has a drop of porter with me breakfast.”
“All right.” Evvie hated porter.
Peg poured the dark stuff into two mugs, both chipped. She leaned forward confidentially, enveloping Evvie in the smells of sweat and cheap perfume.
“Every time he comes here, him or Bowler, there’s something bad happens. Every time.”
“Some people are like that,” Evvie said.
“But it’s children. Always the children. Now me, I ain’t got none, I caught pregnant once and it ended bad, I near died of it, but I likes the little ’uns.” For a moment her jolly face drooped mournfully and she looked old, something old and lonely left out in the sun too long and drying up. “But anyways, the Viper comes round – normally he doesn’t want his fancy self carrying our stink, so he sends Bowler, who’s as bad, or worse. But every now and then round he comes, and I swear, day later or two, something happens to one of the children. Mrs Pritchard’s boy died of a fever, the very next day , and he hadn’t even been that sick. And the Viper promised work for the Glucks’ boy but the lad never wrote nor come home, and it just about broke Gluck’s heart. He was a good, likely boy – handsome as the day, and the hope of that family, he was. There was a girl found at the foot of the stairs, with her neck broke, and another boy just faded away, like he had the consumption but he never even coughed, just faded.
“And last time, it was the Stones’ girl. Just disappeared. Lovely little thing, she was, like a little daisy, all white and gold, used to make me think of when I was a girl in the country, just looking at her. But the day after Stug’s visit, she disappeared. And Bat... he’s the sweeper boy, he told me he sworn he saw the Viper’s carriage, that night. Stone’s never been the same. I mean, he wasn’t never what you’d call a good man, but he got his head out the bottle now and again and got work, and he never used to baste that poor woman so bad. I thought maybe I should go and look, you know, around one of the bawdy-houses, but...” She looked down at her hands, shiny with sausage-grease. “I couldn’t bear it, I can’t see the little ’uns like that. ’Sides, there’s so many of ’em. I din’t know where to start. But there’s one not a mile from here.”
“Why would he take her there? S’not like he needs the money.”
“Because he’s evil, that’s why,” Peg said. “He’s the devil, and that Bowler, he’s the devil’s red right hand, he is.” She shuddered, and pulled her pink wrap tighter. “I shoulda gone,” she said, turning away. “I shoulda gone looking but I’m just a scared old whore. I’m scared of Viper and Bowler and the Peelers and I’m scared of what I’da seen, in those places.”
“You wasn’t the one took ’em,” Evvie said. If anyone did. “’Sides, if they were in one of those places, he’d take ’em further away, not close by where they could run home. You wouldn’t’a seen ’em anyway.”
“Poor little things,” Peg said, and snuffled, and picked up her porter. “Poor little things.”
Children died of fever all the time, there was nothing new in
There was a porcelain dog with an expression of sneering idiocy and a dusty ruff around its neck staring down at Evvie from the grimy mantel. She looked at it while she considered. “All right,” she said. “I know. I ain’t planning to make trouble and I ain’t naming no names. Anything I hear, I didn’t hear off of you.”
“S’all very well,” said Peg, “but how do I know?”
Evvie let out a small sigh. It was partly genuine, too – after talking to Bat and seeing the room, it was almost too easy to guess where Peg’s lever was.
“I think,” she said, “he’s up to no good – and it’s something to do with children.”
Peg wrapped her arms around herself, as though she was cold. “Here,” she said, “you fancy a drop of porter? I always has a drop of porter with me breakfast.”
“All right.” Evvie hated porter.
Peg poured the dark stuff into two mugs, both chipped. She leaned forward confidentially, enveloping Evvie in the smells of sweat and cheap perfume.
“Every time he comes here, him or Bowler, there’s something bad happens. Every time.”
“Some people are like that,” Evvie said.
“But it’s children. Always the children. Now me, I ain’t got none, I caught pregnant once and it ended bad, I near died of it, but I likes the little ’uns.” For a moment her jolly face drooped mournfully and she looked old, something old and lonely left out in the sun too long and drying up. “But anyways, the Viper comes round – normally he doesn’t want his fancy self carrying our stink, so he sends Bowler, who’s as bad, or worse. But every now and then round he comes, and I swear, day later or two, something happens to one of the children. Mrs Pritchard’s boy died of a fever, the very next day , and he hadn’t even been that sick. And the Viper promised work for the Glucks’ boy but the lad never wrote nor come home, and it just about broke Gluck’s heart. He was a good, likely boy – handsome as the day, and the hope of that family, he was. There was a girl found at the foot of the stairs, with her neck broke, and another boy just faded away, like he had the consumption but he never even coughed, just faded.
“And last time, it was the Stones’ girl. Just disappeared. Lovely little thing, she was, like a little daisy, all white and gold, used to make me think of when I was a girl in the country, just looking at her. But the day after Stug’s visit, she disappeared. And Bat... he’s the sweeper boy, he told me he sworn he saw the Viper’s carriage, that night. Stone’s never been the same. I mean, he wasn’t never what you’d call a good man, but he got his head out the bottle now and again and got work, and he never used to baste that poor woman so bad. I thought maybe I should go and look, you know, around one of the bawdy-houses, but...” She looked down at her hands, shiny with sausage-grease. “I couldn’t bear it, I can’t see the little ’uns like that. ’Sides, there’s so many of ’em. I din’t know where to start. But there’s one not a mile from here.”
“Why would he take her there? S’not like he needs the money.”
“Because he’s evil, that’s why,” Peg said. “He’s the devil, and that Bowler, he’s the devil’s red right hand, he is.” She shuddered, and pulled her pink wrap tighter. “I shoulda gone,” she said, turning away. “I shoulda gone looking but I’m just a scared old whore. I’m scared of Viper and Bowler and the Peelers and I’m scared of what I’da seen, in those places.”
“You wasn’t the one took ’em,” Evvie said. If anyone did. “’Sides, if they were in one of those places, he’d take ’em further away, not close by where they could run home. You wouldn’t’a seen ’em anyway.”
“Poor little things,” Peg said, and snuffled, and picked up her porter. “Poor little things.”
Children died of fever all the time, there was nothing new in
Similar Books
