‘They did,’ said Frank cheerfully, putting a frying pan on the grate and filling it with sausages. ‘Two of them. But Tom Cat sorted them out, didn’t you?’
I nodded. ‘Though I could do with a few tips from the master. I’ve learned that, apart from Latin, the boys here do little else but fight.’ I looked up at Syd and pummelled his stomach playfully.
He frowned and shook me off. ‘But they’ll notice soon enough.’
‘Notice what?’ asked Charlie innocently.
‘Well, that he’s a . . . he’s a she,’ Syd said delicately.
‘I’m being very discreet, Syd.’
‘I dunno, Cat.’ He ran his hands through his hair distractedly. ‘It’s not right – you sittin’ there all shaven and shorn.’
‘I’m sorry, Syd,’ I said, serious now, ‘but it was the best we could come up with at such short notice. And after all, it’s only hair: it’ll grow back. I’m just staying here until the runners get tired of looking for me. If Hawkins goes away, they’re bound to lose interest – there’ll be no one to press charges.’
‘Do you want me to get rid of ’im for you, Cat?’ Syd’s kind, open face became quite nasty for a moment. Used to him treating me like a wayward younger sister, I sometimes forgot that he ruled a fair percentage of London and could call on a powerful following.
‘No, Syd. He won’t be here forever. He’s got his plantation in Jamaica to think of. Once he realizes he’s not going to get hold of Pedro, he’ll leave.’
‘And what’s the word? Does he show any signs of giving up?’ Frank asked Syd.
‘Nothin’ doin’ on that front as far as I’ve ’eard. I ’spect ’e’s laying low since last night.’ Syd’s face broke into a grin. He took my hand affectionately and pulled me on to the arm of the chair beside him. ‘Wasn’t Prince a dazzler? ’Ole town is talkin’ of it. Tonight’s show is sold out. They could’ve flogged the tickets twice over, Caleb told me.’ Syd’s brow puckered again. ‘’E’s worried for you too, Cat. Been lookin’ for you when ’e’s off duty. So’s Pedro.’
‘Can you let them know I’m all right?’
‘Course I will.’
The bells in the abbey struck the hour. Syd got up to leave. He shook the boys by the hand. I held out mine. He took it but didn’t shake it. Instead, he inspected the scratches I had sustained last night. “You’re a rum ’un, Kitten. No two ways about it. You’ll need to toughen up these paws of yours. And if you get in a fight, you’re to aim ’ere and ’ere.’ He pointed to Frank’s jaw and stomach. ‘You’re not supposed to go lower, but if it’s an emergency, punch or kick there . . .’ (he pointed – Frank went pale) ‘ . . . as ’ard as you can. That should soon sort out your opponent. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Syd.’
The door closed.
‘Anyone fancy something to eat?’ asked Charlie, holding up a pan full of sizzling sausages.
SCENE 3 – SNATCHED
The following day was a Sunday and the boys from Westminster School were expected to attend the morning service in the Abbey. I ate cold sausages up in Frank’s set rather than go down for breakfast. I’d decided that the less I was seen in public, the quicker people would forget about me. Charlie assured me that I wouldn’t be missing much in the dining room.
Left alone for the first time, I sat in front of Frank’s mirror and inspected my new appearance. My hair now curled around my ears. My neck felt strangely exposed. And my ankles. Despite being hidden in thick stockings, it felt so odd to have them on view. Indecent somehow. I experimented with some expressions. Boredom was the one I’d had most opportunity to study. Smiling was definitely out. As soon as I smiled, I became very girlie. A grimace was better.
‘Very pretty, Hengrave.’
I spun round to find Richmond lounging in the doorway.
‘Don’t you know how to knock?’ I asked, wondering with a panicky feeling how long he’d been standing there.
‘Just came to see how the new boy was doing,’ he said, inspecting a set of silver clothes brushes lying on a table.
‘I’m doing fine, thank you.’
‘You weren’t at breakfast.’
‘No.’
‘Not sickening for something, I hope?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Then how would you like to join me for a spot of fencing in the Dean’s Yard after church?’
‘I don’t fence.’
‘Not a strict Sabbath observer, are you?’ he asked with a curl to his lip.
‘No.’ I couldn’t help smiling, thinking of what we got up to on Sundays at the theatre. That was the day I had the run of the place and got to play on stage, pretending I was Mrs Siddons or Mrs Jordan. Richmond gave me a strange look. I quickly turned off my smile. ‘I mean I’ve never learned to fence.’
‘Lord, Hengrave, are you savages in Ireland? Someone had better teach you then. By the old oak at midday.’ And he turned on his heel and left before I could think of an excuse.
‘Well, I suppose it was friendly of him,’ said Frank, scratching the back of his head in bewilderment when I told him about my visitor. We were making the short journey across the yard to the Abbey, near deafened by the peal of bells.
‘Friendly? Frank, I don’t think so. I haven’t been a boy long but I know when someone just wants to knock the stuffing out of me.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘And it was the headmaster who accused us of having a talent for mischief, Frank. My little brother can’t seem to stir without attracting trouble.’
‘I think it’s because of Tom Cat’s looks,’ said Frank sagely. ‘Richmond’s a bit of a runt himself, son of some planter from the West Indies. He’s been struggling to find his feet in Ottley’s from what Southey’s told me. The assistant master there, Botch Hayes, can’t keep the thugs under control and Richmond’s been picked on. He’s probably rejoicing in the fact that a boy has turned up who he stands a chance of thrashing. He sees you as a way to earn himself a bit of respect.’