by Ruthie Lewis
‘We can’t abandon Grace, either,’ George said. He snapped his fingers again to summon the dog and set off walking towards Albion Dock. The other two followed him.
*
The room where they had brought Grace was lit only by shafts of sunlight coming through windows high overhead. The walls, she could dimly see, were rough brick. The resinous smells of pine and fir told her it was a timber warehouse. There were other smells too; smoke, sweat, the sharp smell of the river.
She could feel the bruises on her arms where the two men had gripped her. They were still there, standing behind her. Another man walked into the room, a tall man with a livid red cut on his cheek and a bandage on one ear. The wounds looked recent. She wondered if they had been sustained in the fighting at the carpet factory, and shuddered.
‘Well, well,’ said the man. He walked over and stood a few feet away, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘What have we here? A prime little pullet, ripe for the plucking.’
‘Keep your hands off me!’ she said sharply.
‘You’re in no position to make demands, my dainty.’ The man considered her, slowly. ‘Sara said you were a hoity-toity one. I see what she means. Well, I reckon we’ll take you down a peg or two.’
‘Sara . . .’ Realisation dawned. ‘Are you Jimmy’s father?’
‘Aye. I’m Long Ben Wilson. And you’re the interfering little snipe who tried to take him away from us. I owe you for that.’
Shaking but determined to show no fear, Grace said, ‘Where is Jimmy? Is he safe?’
‘What’s it to you?’ Long Ben lowered his arms and walked forward until he was within touching distance of Grace. ‘You’ve interfered enough in our business, lady. You and that bloody school of yours. We’re closing that down, now.’
Grace swallowed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ll not touch my school.’
In response, Long Ben raised his arm, fingers curling into a fist. Grace closed her eyes and waited for the blow to fall.
‘Stop!’ said another voice.
Slowly, Grace opened her eyes. Another man had come into the room, smaller, more slightly built, dressed in a long black coat despite the heat and with a broad-brimmed hat shading his eyes. Only the bottom half of his face could be seen. Something flashed and glittered with rainbows in the gloom, a diamond ring on the man’s right hand. It flashed again as he moved forward.
‘That’s enough, Wilson,’ he said.
Long Ben looked at him, and without a word lowered his hand and stepped back.
‘Get out,’ the man said curtly. ‘I’ll handle this myself. Wait outside, all of you. I’ll have work for you later.’
The three men left in silence, not looking back. As the door closed behind them, Grace found her voice.
‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘Who brought me here, and why?’
‘I gave the orders to bring you here,’ the man said. He hooked his thumbs through his belt. A long, wicked-looking knife hung in a sheath at his waist. ‘These are my men. As you may have guessed, they are from the Bull Head Gang, and I am their leader. I am the Captain.’
*
Grace felt herself growing cold. If she had thought she was in danger before, now she truly was in mortal peril. Standing before her was one of the most ruthless and dangerous men in London.
‘As to why you are here,’ the Captain went on, ‘you already know, don’t you? Like Ben said, we are closing your school.’
Grace swallowed. ‘My school is doing no harm,’ she said.
‘No harm,’ the Captain repeated. ‘Stealing our children away from us, filling their heads full of useless ideas, teaching them to think they’re better than their own parents. You don’t call that harm?’
‘I am teaching them so they can make a better life for themselves,’ Grace said.
‘A better life for themselves,’ the Captain repeated, malice in his voice. ‘A better life for themselves. It’s a fraud, little Grace. A hoax, perpetrated on the poor by a few do-good reformers who want to pat themselves on the back and tell themselves how wonderful they are. Make a better life for themselves? There’s no such thing.’
He walked around Grace, still speaking, his voice echoing a little in the high room. ‘But if you give the poor hope, you see, tell them there is something better out there waiting for them, then they’re quiet. They don’t make a fuss. They obey the rules, they play the games the rich set out for them, in hopes that one day everything will come good, and they’ll be happy and prosperous. But it never happens, does it? The hope that is fed to the poor is a delusion, a cheat, a sham. This life, what we have here and now; that is all there is.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Grace.
‘It doesn’t matter what you believe, little Grace. I hold the cards here. I am the Captain, and in Rotherhithe I make the rules. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Grace.
‘Good. Let’s start with a simple question. Rancid Jack came to your school not long ago. He asked you to pay protection money. Did you agree?’
‘No,’ said Grace.
‘Really? He threatened you, did he not? What reply did you make?’
‘I told him to go away.’
Below the brim of his hat, the Captain smiled. ‘Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.’ He raised his voice. ‘All right, Wilson, bring him in.’
There was a pause of about a minute and then the door opened. Ben Wilson and another man came in, dragging something between them. After a moment Grace realised to her horror that it was a man’s body, and then realised with an even deeper shock that it was Rancid Jack. He was still alive, but he had been beaten savagely. His coat had been ripped away and there were bloodstains on his filthy shirt. His face was a mass of bruises.
‘Jacky-boy,’ said the Captain. ‘Jacky, Jacky, Jacky. You really are a bit of a mess, aren’t you?’
The giant said nothing. The Captain walked over and stood looking down at him. ‘You’re probably wondering why I’ve kept you alive,’ he said.
The giant moved his battered lips. ‘It crossed my mind.’
‘My little friend here says that when you came to her school and demanded protection money, she refused you. Is she telling the truth? No lies now, Jacky. The truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God.’
‘It’s the truth,’ said Rancid Jack. ‘We were planning to go back and sort her out. Only you got to us first, you bastard.’
The Captain held up a hand. He clicked his tongue. ‘Bad language in front of a lady,’ he said. ‘I’m not having that. All right, Wilson. Take him away and dispose of him. Do it however you like, but make sure he is never seen again.’
The two men dragged Rancid Jack out of the room, closing the door behind them. The Captain walked around Grace again, surveying her. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘That makes things a bit different. Had you paid him off, you would have been fraternising with the enemy. My father didn’t hold with fraternising with the enemy, and neither do I.’
Grace was still shaking. She tried not think about what was happening to Rancid Jack. ‘The enemy?’ she said. ‘Was your father a soldier?’
‘He was, little Grace. He was one of those poor sods who believed, like you, that it was possible to better oneself. He chose the Army as his way of making a new life, and he joined Her Glorious Majesty’s 44th Regiment of Foot. Ten years he followed the colours and served his queen and country. And what do you think it got him?’ the Captain shouted suddenly.
‘I don’t know,’ said Grace.
‘The 44th Regiment of Foot were sent to Afghanistan. Their generals were lords and toffs. They were blundering fools, but they were toffs, so they got to be generals. When the fighting started, all the generals were safe. And why, you ask? Again, because they were toffs, and therefore too important to risk their lives in the line of fire. Instead, the poor common soldiers of the 44th were sent to march through winter snow with no blankets, no boots, no ammunition, barely any muskets. At a place called Gandamac
k, they were sacrificed. The Afghans cut them to pieces with knives, butchered them like so many sheep. My father was one of them.’
‘Oh, God,’ said Grace, and now she could not stop her teeth from chattering. ‘Gandamack. My Aunt Edith’s husband died there.’
‘Indeed he did, little Grace.’ The Captain’s voice was sombre now. ‘Your Aunt Edith’s husband. My father.’
*
‘You’re Charlie,’ Grace said. ‘The boy who ran away.’
‘The boy who ran away,’ the Captain repeated. ‘The boy who realised that everything was a sham, a fraud. The glory my father died for was a lie. The idea of serving queen and country was a lie. The idea of advancing in the service and making a better life for himself was a lie. Life was a lie. So, I left and joined the gangs. In the gangs I finally found truth.’
He held up his hand, the diamond flashing and sparkling again. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Comes from Ceylon, I’m told. I cut it off a dead man’s hand ten years ago. This is what life really means, little Grace. This is truth.’
Grace’s head was spinning. ‘If you are who you say you are, then you are my cousin,’ she said.
The Captain walked over to Grace, studying her. She could see the gleam of his eyes now, under the brim of his hat. ‘Don’t count on family feeling to protect you, little Grace. I could kill you right now, and not shed a tear.’
I am going to die here, Grace thought. Goodbye, George. Goodbye Albert and Harry and Daisy, I love you, and I am sorry you’ll lose yet another mother. Goodbye, Mela, my dear friend. I am sorry that I’ll never see you again. If I am going to die, let it at least be swift.
She straightened her back and looked at the Captain. ‘Do it, then,’ she said. ‘What are you waiting for?’
The Captain said nothing. ‘Do it,’ Grace said again. ‘I’m not going to beg, if that is what you are waiting for. Get it over with.’
The Captain watched her for a little longer. ‘It doesn’t have to be like this,’ he said. ‘Agree to close your school, and you can walk out of here, free and unharmed.’
‘Why?’ Grace demanded. ‘Why is the school so important to you?’
‘Because it interferes with my plans,’ the Captain said. ‘I need these children to work for me, the boys especially. They are the gang’s future. I was just like them. The gang took me, moulded me, and made me the man I am.’
‘God forbid,’ said Grace, and she shuddered.
‘Oh, yes, let’s talk about God,’ the Captain said, mocking her. ‘God will save your school and your children, God will punish me for my sins. Well, no, he won’t, little Grace, because there is no God! Religion is another fraud, perpetrated on the poor to keep them in their place. Don’t worry about your sufferings in this life, because you will be rewarded in the next? Only a fool would believe that.’
‘I believe it,’ Grace said.
‘Then, you are a fool. I’ll say it again. I need those children, and I don’t want you filling their heads with rubbish about equality and a better life.’
Sudden anger flooded through Grace. ‘And you accuse me of stealing children? You take them from their families like you took Jimmy Wilson, you corrupt them and turn them into thieves and criminals, drive them into an early grave, and for what? To make your gang stronger, to give you more power over innocent people so you can rob and steal and kill? You are a monster!’
‘I don’t deny it,’ the Captain said calmly. ‘I am a criminal. But I am honest about what I do. I don’t hide behind patriotism or religion or some false and foolish notion of a better world, because I know a better world does not exist. And now I am telling you one last time. Close your school.’
‘No,’ said Grace. ‘I won’t. And you can do whatever you like.’ She stared at the Captain. ‘You could kill me right now, but you haven’t done it. I don’t believe even a monster like you would harm his own cousin.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ said the Captain. His voice was still calm. ‘But, all the same, I find myself strangely hesitant. There is no denying you have spirit. Perhaps we are more alike than I had guessed.’
Silence fell. Grace listened to her heart thudding in her chest, wondering desperately what would happen next. Thank God he doesn’t know I am adopted, she thought. It might change his mind.
‘I will make you a bargain,’ the Captain said finally. ‘I took Jimmy Wilson with the consent of his father, by the way.’
‘But not his mother,’ said Grace.
‘Sara is a drunken sot. Her feelings are nothing. I will continue to take boys when I need them, or when I hear of one who shows promise, and you will not stop me. The girls I will leave alone. If I am ever in need of drabs, there are plenty already on the market.’
‘You won’t take them,’ Grace said. ‘I won’t allow it.’
‘Wait until you hear the rest of the bargain. In exchange, you may continue your school. You may teach the girls and the younger boys whatever rubbish you see fit. You will not interfere with me, and I will not interfere with you. But you will allow me my tithe of the boys.’
‘I do not accept,’ Grace said.
‘You have no choice. Go back to your school, little Grace. Go back and do whatever you like. But if you try to stop me or hinder me in any way, I will reduce your school to ashes, and cousin or no cousin, I will break your sweet neck. Is that clear?’
The steel in his voice made Grace quake again. She opened her mouth to say that she would never submit to his will, not ever, but then, suddenly, the door behind her crashed open and Radcliffe, barking furiously, came hurtling across the room towards her.
*
I was on watch outside the warehouse when I saw them bring Miss Perrow in – I knew she’d got wed but she was still Miss Perrow to me. The gang had sent me out to act as a lookout. They hadn’t treated me too bad after they let me out of the hole. I guess they knew I wouldn’t try to run away again, and they were right. I did what they told me. I wasn’t going back in the hole again, not ever.
But when I saw Miss Perrow I felt sick. All the memories came back, the classroom and the books and her voice, so soft, so kind and gentle. I knew they were going to top her. I just stood there watching them drag her inside, a sick knot of misery filling my guts and chest. I saw Da and the other two take Rancid Jack away to kill him. After that I wandered outside and sat down on a bollard, looking out over Albion Dock and seeing the ships moored along the waterfront, wondering what to do.
That was when I heard the dog running along the waterfront, hackles up and barking. Just some stray, I thought, but then I saw one of the men following him was Mr Turneur.
He saw me too. ‘Jimmy,’ he said quickly. ‘What are you doing here?’
I tried to say something but it felt like my tongue was stuck in my mouth. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘Grace has gone missing. Have you seen her?’
I pointed at the warehouse. The Captain would find out I told them, and I would go into the hole again, or worse. But I had to save Miss Perrow.
*
‘Stay away from her,’ George said to the Captain. Radcliffe stood beside him, growling. ‘By God, if you’ve hurt a hair on her head, I’ll—’
‘She is unharmed,’ the Captain said. ‘And who might you be?’
‘George Turneur,’ George said. ‘I’m her husband.’
‘Her husband?’ A little mocking smile played around the corners of the Captain’s mouth. His hand rested, lazily, on the hilt of his knife. ‘Riding bravely to the rescue, I see.’ The Captain looked from Grace to George and then back again. ‘Well,’ he said mockingly. ‘Let me not stand in the way of true love. You are free to go, Mrs Turneur. Think about what I said, and do not forget it.’
Relief washed through Grace like the incoming tide. She thought of the children at home, and wanted more than anything else in the world to see them and hold them, to feel their kisses on her face and smell their hair. ‘Wait!’ she said.
‘What is it now?’ asked the Capt
ain.
‘I was coming back from market when your men grabbed me. I lost my basket and all our food. What am I meant to feed our children?’
The Captain reached into his pocket. Something gold gleamed in the air and landed at her feet; a sovereign. ‘Never let it be said that I am ungenerous,’ he said. ‘Farewell, little Grace. Let us hope we do not need to meet again.’
He turned his back on them and walked through another door at the far end of the room, closing it behind them. Shivering, Grace threw herself into George’s arms, sobbing into his chest as he held her close. ‘Come on,’ said Elijah Berton. ‘Let’s get out of here before the others come back.’
They hurried outside and away down Albion Dock, quiet in the evening sun. Grace wiped her eyes and looked at the men. ‘Did you really come alone? Just the three of you?’
She thought they looked a little embarrassed. ‘We couldn’t not come,’ said Elijah Berton. ‘I mean, not knowing that you’d been took. We had to look for you.’
‘Three men and a dog, against the Bull Head Gang,’ said Grace. ‘I think that is the bravest thing I have ever heard of. Oh, George, thank God you came.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?’ George asked anxiously.
‘No. But the things he said . . .’ She started to weep again. ‘He’ll let me keep the school going. But oh, George, the price he asks is awful.’
Chapter 13
The Captain kept his word. As the months passed, the Bull Head Gang cemented their control over south-east London, forcing businesses and some homes to pay protection money, and punishing those that refused to pay with burnings and beatings. But they never came near the school.
Grace had insisted on returning to work the day after the attack. She could see the look of awe in her pupils’ faces as they came into the classroom under the arches. News of the kidnapping had spread quickly, and it was known that Grace had stood up to the Captain and refused to give in. And as the days passed and word spread still further, people began, quietly and sometimes a little nervously, to stop her in the street and thank her.