Dodger Page 0,42

and right into the innocent hands of Dodger, who had merely been passing by, Dodger had said to Solomon, ‘I thought you Jews were not allowed to eat pork, right?’

If Onan was the king of curling up, Solomon was a prince of the shrug. ‘Strictly speaking,’ he had answered, ‘that may be so mmm, but another set of rules applies. Firstly, this is a gift from God and one should never refuse a gift given freely, and secondly, this pork appears to be quite good, better than usual, and I am an old man and I am mmm very hungry. Sometimes I think that the rules made centuries ago for the purpose of getting my excitable and bickering forebears across the desert cannot easily be said to apply in this town with its rains, smogs and fogs. Besides, I am an elderly man and I am quite hungry, and I have mentioned this twice, because I think it is very relevant. I think in the circumstances that God will understand, or He is not the God I know. That is one of the mmm good things about being Jewish. After my wife was killed in that pogrom in Russia I came to England with only my tools, and when I saw the white cliffs of Dover, alone without my wife, I said, “God, today I don’t believe in you any more.”’

‘What did God say?’ Dodger had asked.

Solomon had sighed theatrically, as if he had been put upon by the question, and then smiled and said, ‘Mmm, God said to me, “I understand, Solomon, let me know when you change your mind,” and I was really pleased with that, because I’d had my say and the world was better, and now I sit in a place that is rather dirty, but I am free. And I am free to eat pork, if God so wills it that pork comes my way.’

Now Solomon turned back to his work. ‘I am making sprockets, my boy, for this watch. It is engrossing work requiring considerable coordination of hand and eye, but also in its way the work is very soothing, and that is why I look forward to making a sprocket or two. It means I’m helping time know what it is, just as time knows what I will become.’

There was silence after that, apart from the reassuring noises of Solomon’s tools, and that was just as well because Dodger didn’t know what to say, but he wondered whether all that was because Solomon was Jewish or because Solomon was quite old, or both, and so he said, ‘I want to do a bit of thinking, if that’s all right with you? I’ll get changed, obviously.’

This was because Dodger was certain he did his best thinking on the tosh. It had rained a bit last night, but not too much, and now he wanted some time with nobody else in it.

Solomon waved him away. ‘Take your time, boy. And take Onan too, if you would be so kind . . .’

A little while later, a little way away, the lid rose on a grating and Dodger dropped comfortably into his world. It wasn’t too bad, because of the rain, and because it was still daylight there were echoes, oh yes, the echoes. It was amazing what the drains picked up, and voices could echo along for quite a way. Every sound left its dying ghost, bouncing who knew how far?

Then, of course, there were the noises from the street; sometimes you could follow a conversation if it was near a drain, people talking away totally oblivious to the tosher hiding below. Once, he had heard a lady get out of a carriage, stumble and drop her purse, which opened. Some of the money, as the luck of the tosher would have it, rolled into the nearest drain. Young Dodger had heard her cries, and the curses to the footman who she said hadn’t been holding the door properly, and he followed the sound already down in the sewer to where, falling like manna from heaven, one half sovereign, two half crowns, a sixpence, four pennies and a farthing dropped almost into his hands.

At the time he had been quite indignant about the farthing; what was a grand lady with a coachman doing with one farthing in her purse?! Farthings were for poor people, and so were half farthings!

You didn’t often get days as good as that, but it was night time when the sewers