Perry Scrimshaw's Rite of Passage (10 page)

‘
Cursed
boy!’

He jumped. Bloodshot eyes took
him in. She tipped the bottle and a few drops landed on her tongue.
She shook the bottle like it might magic up some more.

‘
Useless, the
pair of you!’ she pointed a shaky finger at him. ‘If you’re not
bringing me punters what use are you?’

Perry didn’t know what to say,
he supposed she was right, but his silence only made her
angrier.

‘
And you! I
take you in and look after you and what do I get? An empty bottle
of gin!’ She gazed into the bottle and then hurled it at
him.

He ducked, just in time. It
smashed against the wall, glass splinters showered down on him.

‘
Shit! That
nearly hit me!’

‘
You bring me a
punter tonight or you’re out, both of ya!’

Perry backpedalled into the
hallway.

‘
And bring me
another bottle of gin!

Under a full moon, the quayside
rippled with drunken laughter. From where he stood, Perry made out
the silhouettes of bulky men and the frumpy dresses of the ladies
of the night.

He found Joel sitting on a
crate holding a cup of steaming soup.

‘
You should
still be resting.’

Perry recounted his run-in with
Ma.

Joel shook his head. ‘I can’t
do much more of this. Out here with a cup of tripe soup trying to
talk to this lot,’ he gestured over to a bearded man staggering
into a giggling prostitute.

‘
I know,’ Perry
put his arm on Joel’s shoulder, ‘whatever happens we need to get
some money together right? But let’s worry about tonight
first.’

Joel nodded and handed Perry
the cup. ‘I’ve tried that lot over there.’

Perry let the tripe slide down
his throat, lukewarm and over-salted. ‘Then it’ll have to be the
tavern, or we’re out on the street.’

Perry went alone, determined to
succeed this time. The streetlamp glowed like the moon.

Inside, he was met with scraggy
faces, heavy-eyed with work and booze. It was hard to know where to
begin, no sailors this time, someone drunk maybe. The table in the
nook under the stairs was clear, so he squeezed in, grateful to be
able to look for likely people from the shadows. There were a few
tables at the back, full of corn runners, laughing loudly. Some
dockers leant on the bar, talking to a pair of coal porters judging
by the black smudges on their cheeks.

A flash of white went past. It
was a woman in a smooth cream dress, yellow hair pinned up,
shuffling towards the back of the room. She was short, her neck
slender and perfect. The noise of the room seemed to lessen.

‘
Any of you
gents looking for some company this evening?’ he heard her say, her
voice low and sweet. Perry stood up to get a better view and banged
his head. The men declined and without fuss she moved on to the
next table. As she did so, her face turned enough for him to get a
look. It was the beggar girl from the church. Eva.

He pushed his way over.

‘
Remember
me?

She smiled. ‘Course I do
‘andsome. You looking for-’

‘
-No, I’m
er…doing the same thing as you.’

She looked him up and down with
puzzlement. ‘Well I never. I’m kind of new to this. Don’t really
know how it all works. So this lot like boys do they? Explains why
I’m not-’

‘
-No…not me. My
landlady. I bring ‘em to her,’ Perry said, keen to clear up any
misunderstanding. God she was beautiful. He couldn’t bear the
thought of her turning into Ma. ‘Eva, you’re too young for this.
Don’t spoil yourself.’

‘
Spoil?’ Her
eyes were cold blue and angry. ‘I ain’t got no choice. Who are you
to tell me otherwise?’

A gruff voice came from behind
her. ‘Oi, how much?’ it was one of the coal porters, jagged teeth
sneering under his blackened cheeks. Her dazzling smile returned in
a flash.

‘
Hello
sweetheart.’

‘
Don’t,’ said
Perry, quietly, ‘please. There are other ways.’

She shot him an angry look and
sidled up to the coal porter. She certainly didn’t look new to this
game.

Perry watched the exchange
helplessly, a sick feeling in his stomach, the coal porter led her
through the bodies in the bar. He had to stop them. He could take
care of her somehow. He lurched after them, but his foot caught on
something and he fell, landing hard on his knees and hands. He
pushed himself up. A man with a bulbous nose and crooked hat smiled
at him wryly and theatrically removed his tripping boot. A great
heave of laughter rolled around the tavern. Fingers pointed and
beer slopped on the floor as the laughter jogged tankards. Perry
scrambled up to his feet and darted outside. He looked left. Then
right. No girl, no coal porter.

‘
Perry?’

Joel looked at him curiously.
‘I couldn’t find anyone. Any luck?’

Perry was too angry with
himself to speak. He thumped the lamppost with his fist, sending a
crunching pain through to the bone. Above him, moths head-butted
the glass panes of the lamp.

10

The forehead of the sun was
beginning to breach the eastern horizon. It was a fresh, cold
morning with a thin veil of white mist hanging over the sea. The
tide was out, exposing the slipway tracks. A weathered rowing boat
glowed in the whisky dawn, slumped against a pile of rocks. Perry’s
feet crunched through the pebbles, his head down, stopping every
now and again to pick one up. At the shore he waited for the
breaker and then launched, wincing at the pain in his bruised hand
as he unfurled the skimmer. The stone skipped five-six-seven times,
its short-lived footsteps subsumed in the ghostwater.

He searched for more stones,
nudging them this way and that with his toe to find the smoothest,
flattest skimmers. Amidst the suck and splash, the lapping and wood
creak, he heard voices above.

A group of dockers trudged
towards one of the quays, lunch packs tucked under their arms.

‘
Unbelievable
Taf, the whole of the Western Quay at a standstill!’

‘
By jingo, they
don’t half have some cheek do they eh?’

Their voices carried off, Perry
rubbed his hands together and stamped his feet. The day was
beginning.

He didn’t feel tired for
staying up all night, he was too angry for that. He’d sent Joel
back. After a week recovering, Perry felt he owed a great deal of
effort to Joel and stayed up half the night trying to get a punter
while simultaneously looking for Eva down alleyways and outside the
brothels. In the end, he had no punter for Ma, no Eva and no sleep
for his trouble. All that waited for him back at Ma’s was the
prospect of being kicked out and why rush back for that
pleasure?

With a grunt, he hoisted
himself onto the rowing boat and perched, feet dangling. Inside
were a couple of battered oars, some broken, tangled netting and a
screwed up blanket. And then, the blanket moved.

‘
Ah!’
Instinctively he leapt away from the boat and landed hard in the
damp shingle. He scrambled to his feet, regaining his
composure.

What the devil was that? He
crept back to the edge of the rowing boat. The blanket was covering
somebody, he was sure of it. Tentatively he prodded at the shape.
It groaned. A bunched up swollen face appeared, wrapped like a
Russian doll. It squinted and wriggled. A lock of yellow hair ran
over her bruised forehead, his mouth went dry. Eva.

Mrs Drew’s café did a brisk
trade at the harbourfront. Condensation fogged the windows and
Southampton’s workers were loading themselves up on toast, eggs and
bacon. A podgy-cheeked woman came from behind the counter with two
mugs of tea and hot-buttered toast and placed them on Perry’s
table.

‘
Thanks.’

She wiped her hands on her
stained apron and looked from Eva’s bruised face to Perry with a
shake of the head. He wanted to say something like, ‘It wasn’t me
who did that!’ but he didn’t want to draw attention to them and
instead slouched further into his seat and gave his tea a brisk
stir.

‘
Sugar?’

Eva shook her head and lifted
the cup to her split lip, winced and put it down again.

‘
Was it that
coal porter?’

She nodded.

‘
Did,’ Perry
cleared his throat, ‘did he-‘

‘
No,’ she said
softly. A tear rolled down her bruised cheek and dropped into the
cup. ‘Just beat me up some.’

Perry squeezed the bruises on
his knuckles until they oozed with pain. ‘Apes. Why would they do a
thing like that to anyone?’ he felt embarrassment flush his skin
and lowered his voice, ‘let alone a beautiful young girl.’

Eva blushed, and dipped her
head. ‘I think it must have been a racket, he told me to stay away
from the tavern, that it wasn’t my territory. How was I supposed to
know that?’

A shoal of sprats wriggled down
his spine. The tavern was controlled turf. It explained why Ma sent
them rather than going herself. He wondered if Joel knew.

‘
I shouldn’t
have let you leave with him. I could have stopped it.’

Eva ducked her head
submissively.

Perry wished he could beat the
coal dust from that thug’s face, and as he swallowed the last of
his tea found himself imagining going back in time and pulping him
right there and then in the tavern.

‘
Perry, what
are you thinking? Your face is all twisted up.’

‘
I’m thinking
we should get those cuts seen to.’

After a short walk past the
Castle walls, they arrived at a fine looking town property, painted
a rich cream, with stone steps and black railings.

‘
What? Here?’
said Eva.

‘
He’s supposed
to be the best in town. I’ll be here when you come out.’

‘
You ain’t
coming in with me? Look at me Perry, I can barely talk proper my
lip’s so fat!’

He considered it. Dr Fairbanks
wouldn’t bother trying to drag him in for disinfection if he had
survived The Sick, surely?

He led her inside and they’d
barely passed the mat when a man bolted out of his seat and
said:

‘
No, no, no.
Away with you. This isn’t some back street hovel, no, no.’ He gave
Eva a look of disgust and shooed them away.

‘
We need to see
Fairbanks.’

‘
You cannot
see
Doctor
Fairbanks.’

‘
I know
him.’

‘
I care not a
jot who you think you know,’ his moustache bristled with
annoyance.

‘
We could just
wait on one of them chairs.’

‘
Out!’ he
yelled.

A door opened and Dr Fairbanks
came out.

‘
Cecil! I am
trying to read! ’ he waved his spectacles.

Perry noticed
Cecil stiffen and made a face as if to say,
now look what you’ve done
.

‘
My sincere
apologies Dr Fairbanks. I am just throwing this vermin out of the
waiting room sir.’

‘
You,’
Fairbanks cut him short and came closer, ‘you were one of
Donnegan’s boys weren’t you?’

Perry got ready to run.

‘
By God. You’re
alive,’ Fairbanks’ tone was gentle, his face astonished.

‘
You know this
boy?’ Cecil couldn’t hide the disapproval in his voice.

‘
I’m sorry I
run away from you sir, I was just scared of being disinfected,’ the
words tumbled out desperately, ‘I caught it. I caught The Sick but
I survived it, so you don’t need to worry about me anymore – I just
need your help with my friend here, she’s had an awful time of
it.’

Fairbanks followed his nod to
Eva. ‘My,’ he gasped, then, ‘you’d better come through’.

Fairbanks’ room was about twice
the size of Ma’s kitchen and tiled white with a dark green line
around the room’s midriff. Fairbanks sat behind a heavy looking
desk, his hands steepled on a dark green rectangle of leather.
Perry helped Eva to sit on a narrow bed, under the window, her arms
crossed and head bowed.

‘
She might have
broken a bone or something.’

‘
Possibly,’
Fairbanks opened a drawer, glass bottles rattled. ‘Where are you
hiding …’ he trailed off, ‘remind me, what’s your full name
boy?’

‘
Perry
Scrimshaw.’

‘
Scrimshaw!’
Fairbanks looked startled.

Perry exchanged a glance with
Eva. ‘I’m sure I told you my name before.’

‘
Oh, maybe you
did, I am getting old,’ Fairbanks ran his hand over his whiskers
and returned to the draw, clinking through some more. ‘Ah. Here it
is!’ Fairbanks held a small bottle to the light.

‘
About time,’
Eva murmured.

‘
Doctor, did
you and Mr Brumpton find any of Mrs Donnegan’s other
boys?’

‘
Eventually.
Yes.’

His heart jumped, ‘What
happened to them?’

‘
All dead,’
Fairbanks was very matter of fact. He stood up from behind his
desk. ‘Taken by The Sick.’

Perry felt like
he’d been thrown off a horse. ‘Dicken? Rodney?
All
of them?’

Fairbanks looked at a paper on
his desk. ‘Yes them, a Peter too - I’ve got a list somewhere.’

Perry was stunned. An image of
the littleuns swordfighting with towels skidded into his mind.