Dodger Page 0,90
rather taciturn gentleman over there who looks as if he lost a guinea and found a farthing? That’s Charles Babbage, and he has made a machine that can add up, and that’s very interesting and I am very fond of interesting people. Although in his case, he is not really very keen on other people at all, apart from having excellent taste when it comes to his lady friends. And I see that Mister Cohen is already in conversation with Mister Babbage and his friend, Ada Lovelace, who is a most elegant lady and a credit to her father. I am sure they will have a lot to talk about. If ever there is a man who introduces himself, it is Mister Cohen.’ Suddenly she said happily, ‘Ah, there’s Sir Robert Peel. I’m so glad he could come. I was told that he had been held up on a bit of business at Scotland Yard.’ She swept away into the chattering throng.
Sir Robert Peel? The boss of the crushers! Being a tosher wasn’t exactly illegal – Grandad had told Dodger a coin was a coin, and if you picked it out of the mud, well, who knew whose coin it had been? Mind you, there was the little matter of getting into the sewers, that probably being a matter of trespass. Nobody bothered all that much though, except for the work gangs, who thought that loose coinage was their legal perk. The public at large didn’t care a fig; toshers could scrabble in the dark and come up with a copper or two, or they could scrabble in the dark and die, at no extra charge.
But peelers, well, sometimes they had their own interpretation of the spirit of the law, and some of them saw it as their duty to make life a little more tricky for those people on the edge of society, which was why they were having so many fights with the Cockney lads, which amounted to a small war.
Toshers were small fry, but in the rookeries, well, peelers were the enemy. Dodger didn’t know the word ‘visceral’, he just understood the situation: you would do yourself no good mixing with the peelers, and now here he was in the same room as their boss and, as sure as sixpence, Angela was going to introduce Dodger to him. He told himself that he had done nothing wrong – well, maybe a few things hardly worth mentioning and mostly a long time ago – but if you came from the rookeries the peelers didn’t listen for long.
On the other hand, of course, he thought, it was quite possible that Angela might object to people being arrested in her house.
He didn’t panic, because people on the tosh who panicked would sooner or later knock themselves out and lose their bearings. But Simplicity was watching him with a slightly worried smile, and by sheer main force he calmed himself down as if nothing had happened, because in fact nothing had happened, and by degrees he was feeling better. All he had to do was not get excited and keep as far away as possible from Sir Robert.
To his surprise, Simplicity stroked his hand and said, ‘Are you all right, Dodger? I know you have had such a busy time, all because of me, and I am so very grateful.’
Charlie and Disraeli had drifted off on another current in this room, where it appeared that nobody stood in one place for very long before seeing somebody else that they also wanted to talk to. So gossip and people oscillated through the air, with at the moment himself and Simplicity in a little bubble.
He managed to say, ‘Oh, don’t worry about me, miss. How is life here?’
‘Angela is very kind,’ said Simplicity. ‘Really very kind, and . . . how can I put this . . .? Very understanding.’
Dodger said, ‘I asked you this once before, and now things is different but there’s no change in the question. What would you like to happen next? Do you want to stay here?’
Her face went solemn. ‘Yes, Angela is very kind. But I know I am here because I am a problem, and I do not wish to be a problem. Sooner or later, problems get solved. I wonder how that might happen.’
Dodger looked around, but no one was paying them any attention so he plucked up his courage and said, ‘Supposing as you could go somewhere where you could be anybody you wanted