Dodger Page 0,58

wanted to help her? Believe that he wasn’t playing some kind of game?

‘I know I should not hate,’ she continued, ‘but for them, yes! Because of them I must not use my proper name, and I dare not tell anyone it – not even you, not yet. For now, I must remain Simplicity, although I do not believe that I am very simple.’

But although the sun was still shining and the honey was still in the air, Dodger had an inkling that somebody other than Mrs Sharples was watching them; someone was following. He knew this simply because on the streets you learned to notice these things almost out of the back of your head – someone with a hand out, or maybe a peeler. You didn’t get to become a geezer if you didn’t have eyes in your arse, and it helped if you had them on the top of your head too. Surely now, someone was following them; and it had to be someone with a mission: a mission of their own.

He cursed himself for not thinking about this, but really you can’t be thinking of everything when you are a hero. He thought, Well, that was quick work – he’d only been asking questions on the street yesterday. Someone was in a great hurry. But right now he did nothing about it and strolled along at a steady pace, a simple young man taking his young lady for a little constitutional walk, without a care in the world, while inside his head the wheels turned and the troops were called up, plans were made and angles sought.

Whoever it was was keeping their distance, and whatever happened Dodger was certain that he ought to make sure nobody knew where Simplicity was living. Whoever they were they weren’t at the moment confident enough to attack him right here, especially not with Mrs Sharples in tow; that disapproving look of hers would have been worth a battalion to the Duke of Wellington.

And so all three of them walked on happily, just like normal people, until he heard the voice of the old baggage saying, ‘I think this is quite far enough, young man, and so I insist that we rephrase our steps. Simplicity’s condition is still very delicate, and you will do no service to let the cold find its way to her.’

Her voice did not seem as unpleasant as he had heard it before, and so he guessed that the only hope was to take her into his confidence. He reached out and, much to her surprise, pulled the woman towards them, and whispered, ‘Ladies, I believe there is a gentleman following us who means somebody harm. It may be Simplicity or it may be, well, me. For the love of God, and your job, I implore you now, without saying a word, to turn at the next corner and wait while I send the cove about his business.’

To his amazement Mrs Sharples whispered back, ‘I have misjudged you, young man. And if the bastard puts up a fight, pray kick him in the unmentionables, good and proper. Do him up bad!’ Then her face returned to its usual expression of low-grade dislike for all and sundry.

Simplicity snorted and said, ‘Dodger, if you can, put him in the gutter.’

Dodger saw Mrs Sharples’ look of surprise, but Simplicity was standing up straight and right now looked as though she was ready for a fight.

Puzzled, but somehow reassured for the moment, Dodger watched as the women barely missed a step as they walked on, and then, when the time was right, he turned the corner sharply into an alleyway and let the ladies pass him. He waited, his back to the wall so that when the man stepped round carefully, Dodger had him by the throat and had brought his foot straight upwards to a place that would jangle, being rewarded with a groan. Then he pulled the man upright again and dragged him so close that he could smell the sweat. And there was slightly more light so he could now see him as well as smell him.

‘Oh my word, Dirty Benjamin, as I live and wish I couldn’t breathe. Down for a little stroll among the toffs, ain’t you? What’s your game today? ’Cos you have been following me a step for a step over the last seven corners I have travelled, and on one of them I crossed over my own steps. Funny, ain’t it, that you should