Dodger Page 0,76
the fork, as hard as he could, and while the man groaned, he riffled his pockets to the total account of fifteen shillings and sixpence ha’penny. Then he kicked him again for good measure. He also pulled off the man’s shoes and said, ‘Yes, mister, I am the geezer that knocked you down in the storm. The geezer who stood up to Mister Sweeney Todd, and do you know what? I have his razor. Oh my, how it does talk to me. You tell Sharp Bob to come and ask me questions himself, right! I ain’t a murderer, but I am on good terms with such as is, and I’ll see you in lavender if I ever see you around here, or hear of you taking your fists to a lady again. You will float down the river without a boat, and that’s the truth.’
Above and around them there was the sound of windows being cautiously opened – cautiously because whatever it was that had just gone down in the street it might be something that you really didn’t want to see, especially if it was possible that the peelers might quiz you about it. In the rookeries, you needed to develop a blindness that could be switched on and off.
Dodger cupped his hands and shouted cheerfully, ‘Nothing to worry about, folks, it’s me, Dodger, and a bloke from out of town who amazingly enough fell over my foot.’ The ‘out of town’ bit was necessary, to show to all those listening that the local patch, such as it was – and mostly it was mud and the remnants of Onan’s most recent meals – was being defended, and it did not hurt, did it, to let everyone know that it was being defended by Dodger, good ol’ Dodger.
In the grey light there was a sleepy applause from everybody except Mister Slade, who was a bargee by profession and not known for the gentleness of his speech, him being a man who also had to get up very early in the mornings. He had clearly had a bad day and shouted down, ‘OK, now piss off and go back to bed.’
Dodger decided not to take the invitation to piss off and go back to bed; instead, he half dragged, half carried the man off his patch, as the protocol of the streets demanded, then spent another ten minutes dragging him a further distance away from the tenement, just in case a peeler wanted to investigate. He propped the figure up against the wall and whispered, ‘You are a very lucky man. And if I ever see your face around here again you will have what we in the business call a very close shave. Understand? I will assume that was a yes.’ Then Dodger whistled to Onan, though not until after the dog had urinated on the man’s leg: something that in fact Dodger hadn’t intended, but that he thought in the circumstances was a perfect ending to that particular scenario.
And then . . . there was just Dodger, and it seemed to him that the events of the evening needed one last touch, one last little detail that a geezer could look back on and be proud about – a detail that would give his reputation even more shine too. After a few moments’ thought, jingling the purloined coins in his hand, he walked back to his own streets, over to a small doorway and knocked several times.
After a while, a very cautious old lady in a nightshirt peered out, saying with the deepest suspicion, ‘Who’s that? I ain’t got any money in the house, you know.’ Then it was, ‘Oh, it’s you, young Dodger. Cor blimey, I only recognized you ’cos of your teeth. Never known anyone with such white teeth.’
Dodger, to the old woman’s surprise, said, ‘Yes, it is me, Mrs Beecham, and I know you haven’t got any money in the house, but you have now.’ He dropped the booty into her astonished hands.
It felt good, and the toothless old woman perceptibly beamed in the darkness and said, ‘God bless you, sir, I will say a prayer for you at church in the morning.’
This somewhat surprised Dodger; no one had offered him a prayer before, as far as he could recall. The idea that he might have one was, on this chilly night, a welcome warmth. Cuddling that to his bosom, he led Onan up the long stairs to bed.
1 Rather soiled but nevertheless very well