The first thing I noticed on entering the room was a great expanse of green cloth scattered with shiny balls. The second was Mr Kingston Hawkins crouching over the table at the far side, holding a long cue. He took aim and struck a white ball hard. It collided with a black one and sent it rocketing into the pocket directly in front of me.
‘Well, well,’ said Hawkins, standing to take a chalk from the edge of the table and rubbing the end of his cue. ‘This sure is an unexpected bonus. That, gentlemen, is the little liar I mentioned. You can leave us, Michael. I’ll send for you when we’ve finished our business together.’
‘Very good, sir.’ The footman bowed.
The door clicked shut behind him. Out of the shadowy fog of tobacco smoke emerged four or five other gentlemen. A second billiard player approached the table, cue in hand.
‘Good shot, Hawkins,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve not lost your touch while you’ve been away.’
‘Indeed not.’ They seemed to be talking about more than just billiards. I stood with bowed head, wondering what would happen next.
‘You’ve brought me the tickets?’ Hawkins asked, closing in on me around the table.
‘Yes, sir.’ I held them out and was cross to see my hand was trembling.
‘Good.’ His eyes were fixed on my face. He reached out to take the tickets but then, at the last moment, changed direction and seized my hand in his fist. His palm felt strong and hot to the touch. He pulled me towards him, the tickets waving between us like a fan. ‘Intriguing, ain’t it, gentlemen? She pretended my boy was dead to stop me getting him back. That’s theft when you think about it. She’s kinda young to be so evil.’
Me – evil! Well, that was rich coming from him. I looked up into his fierce blue eyes and was stunned to see that he really believed what he was saying.
A man stepped into the light from my right. He was in clerical dress and wore a white wig square over a face with a bulbous nose. Taking a monocle from his pocket, he peered at me short-sightedly.
‘Interesting, Hawkins, very interesting. It’s the riff-raff of her sort that are sapping the very marrow of our empire – attacking property rights like a canker in a once healthy body, undermining our very constitution. Left to run riot, you get the kind of nonsense we see in France – kings humbled, butchers and bakers raised up in their place.’
‘Good grief, Dr Juniper!’ said the other man with a cue. ‘You make her sound very dangerous. All I see is a scruffy urchin wondering when she’s going to get her tip for carrying her message. Hardly a portent of the millennium!’
‘Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Ferdinand, quite wrong,’ said the doctor.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Hawkins with an exultant smile, ‘let’s have a better look at the creature.’ He let go of my wrist and seized me by the waist. Before I knew it, I was standing on the billiard table directly under the candelabra.
‘Mind the cloth!’ protested Ferdinand, not at all bothered on my account but staring in concern at my muddy boots.
‘Let me down!’ I said, adding reluctantly, ‘Please!’
‘No, no, not until we’ve finished, missy,’ said Hawkins gleefully. ‘You see, gentlemen, I’m an expert in judging human specimens. It’s my stock-in-trade – I do it all the time in the slave markets. I knew that my boy Pedro was gifted from the angle of his brow. Now, this gal here –’
‘Ah! I see it,’ said Dr Juniper. ‘The red hair and green eyes of an Irishwoman – an inferior race, as I’m sure we all agree, only one step up from the African and Asiatic savage. And observe her thin, stunted stature.’ He took up Mr Hawkins’ billiard cue and pointed to me as if in a lecture hall. ‘Clearly not strong. I’ve no doubt she’ll end in an early grave.’
‘And do you see the shape of her skull?’ Mr Hawkins continued. ‘I’ve seen the same on some of my slaves – all of them have been liars with no respect for authority. It’s in the space between the eyes – I can always tell. I make sure they’re assigned to particularly hard labour to keep them down.’
‘Very wise,’ nodded the doctor.
‘I pity your slaves, you stinking dog turd,’ I hissed at Hawkins, unable to stomach any more of this humiliation. ‘Let me go.’
Hawkins shook his head and prodded me back into place. ‘And then of course there’s the limited vocabulary and resort to obscenities – another mark of the dull-witted. But the final proof is in the teeth.’ He hooked my upper arm and dragged me towards him. ‘You’ll get some work from even the meanest specimen if their teeth are good.’ The gentlemen laughed and clustered round to take a closer look. One blew a stream of pipe smoke in my face. Hawkins thrust a finger and thumb into my mouth like a horse-dealer inspecting a nag at the fair. I tried to pull away but his other hand was clamped on my neck. ‘Hmm. Not bad – I’d buy her if she came up at a bargain price.’
That was the final straw. I bit down on Hawkins’ thumb.
‘You little witch!’ he shouted, pulling his hand away.
‘You can stick your tickets up your bum,’ I shouted, anger coursing through me as I cast the tickets into the air like confetti. ‘And you can shove the receipt where the sun don’t shine.’