Chapter 8 #3
Frankie moved first this time, pulling her back in. The second kiss was a little more tentative. She tried running her tongue over Frankie’s bottom lip and felt the hands still themselves on her back. She broke the kiss.
‘Huh.’ said Frankie, still so close Thea could feel the warm breath. She pulled back a little further so she could focus on Frankie’s eyes, unfamiliar with the sensation of a kiss actually taking the heat out of this kind of situation.
‘Nothing for you either?’ Thea asked.
Frankie shook her head. ‘Nope.’ Despite their apparent agreement, Thea was a little put out.
‘Not even a little bit?’ Frankie stuck out her bottom lip a little as if she was thinking, and her eyes widened. It was the first time that Thea had seen her genuinely off balance.
‘Seems not.’
‘Huh,’ said Thea, this time.
‘Curious,’ said Frankie. And then her eyes softened, and she smiled, and Thea glowed with a mutual understanding, even if that was firmly based in friendship and nothing else.
She smiled back, gripped the front of Frankie’s shirt and was about to push herself away, when the light of the moon dimmed.
She felt Frankie tense against her fisted hands.
‘Well,’ said a voice whose low timbre held a world of menace. ‘What do we have here? A couple of well-dressed gentlemen in an alley. Wouldn’t be up anything indecent, I do hope?’
Thea stood stock still while Frankie’s eyes darted round, assessing the situation. A second figure appeared behind the first. Thea felt Frankie move a little closer.
‘Stay where you are,’ said Frankie, keeping her voice low.
‘And what’s a snip of a man like you goin’ to do about it?’ asked the man absently, as he moved forwards. He came close into Thea’s space and fingered the velvet of her lapel.
‘Fancy suit you ‘ave there, sir,’ he said. She almost didn’t dare breathe whilst she considered her next move. There weren’t any immediate demands, but she assumed she was about to be robbed.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, finding her voice.
‘Just the usual,’ came the casual tone. ‘Fish ‘em out.’ He gestured by way of an inclination of his head to their pockets.
‘I aint got–’ started Frankie, but Thea cut her off. This was something she could do.
‘I have,’ she said. ‘Best to give him what we have and then I’m sure he’ll leave us alone.
’ She flashed Frankie a pointed look before reaching into her pocket and extracting the dummy purse she kept explicitly for this eventuality.
It had a few coins in it, but she kept the bulk of the silver she carried further down.
She deposited it into the man’s hand, her chest puffing out a little as she realised she was about to win this one.
Frankie understood the streets, but she had the means.
The man opened the purse’s drawstring and peered inside.
Then he laughed. ‘I weren’t dragged from the river yesterday.
’ He tossed the purse back to her and she caught it on reflex, pinning it against her chest with one hand.
‘We’ll have whatever else you’re keepin’ in them deep pockets.
If you’re struggling to find it, the boys and I are happy to have a closer look in private.
Just as I imagine this gentleman was about to do for you.
’ He nodded to Frankie, who was still breathing hard by Thea’s right ear.
Thea was close to informing him that he couldn’t be more wrong, but the shadow behind him shifted, revealing the silhouette of a blade. She drew in a breath.
‘Look,’ she started, trying to stall for time, but then he drew closer and reached towards her.
The next thing she knew, he moved back quickly. Very quickly, as Frankie’s fist connected with his jaw.
‘Run,’ said Frankie, grasping Thea’s arm as the first man careered back into the second.
Thea felt herself pulled down the alley and followed without thinking, dodging left and right around corners, past piles of rubbish, barrels, spent food waste and goodness knows what else.
But they were hampered, she wasn’t used to running, and soon she heard footsteps gaining.
They jinked to the right but soon came up against a door.
Frankie pulled at the handle, but it wouldn’t open.
A house loomed over them to the right and a high wall, that they would never get over, blocked their escape to the left.
Thea turned to see two men, one with a bloody nose, advancing slowly.
‘Poor choice,’ he snarled. ‘Twice. Should have gone left.’
‘What’s the other?’ Thea, despite her terror, managed to be mildly impressed at Frankie’s defiance.
‘Shouldn’t have broken my nose,’ he growled. A knife appeared out of a sleeve spattered with red.
Perhaps this was how it ended, thought Thea. What a day this was turning out to be. She felt oddly calm. She wondered if anyone would be impressed with her kidneys if she ended up on Doctor Hunter’s table.
‘Knives on the floor, gents.’ Who was that, now, Thea wondered? A new figure, behind the first two. Thea glanced at Frankie, who glanced at her. The moonlight struggled to reach into this alley, but this new assailant was like shadow itself under a broad hat and clad all in black.
‘Who’s asking?’ said the man with the bloody nose.
‘I’m not asking,’ came a calm voice. Thea wondered how one, slighter individual planned to take on the two original vagrants, until the men turned and stared straight into the barrel of a pistol.
Had they just gathered all the vagrants in Piccadilly?
With a cold shiver to add to the rest, Thea considered that perhaps word had got out that there was a duchess in the alleyway?
But how could it? She wondered what might happen next, and if it would involve any of them living to see tomorrow.
‘One pistol isn’t going to take us both down, is it?
’ the first robber sneered. Thea saw the outline of his yellow teeth in the moonlight and almost admired his guts.
The third man produced another pistol in his left hand, and raised it, almost lazily.
There was a moment of consideration, and then the click of a flint being cocked.
The first robbers looked at one another, then clearly decided that Thea and Frankie didn’t look rich enough for them to take the risk of lead shot through the eye.
‘Fine,’ the bloody one said, holding up his hands in supplication. ‘They’re yours.’
‘Too generous,’ said the third man. ‘First empty your pockets.’ The first robber started to protest, but the second elbowed him.
‘The kids,’ he muttered. ‘Netty’ll be furious if you get yourself downed.
’ The first grumbled but then reached into the pocket of his jacket.
The third robber holstered one of the pistols and held out a bag he extracted from somewhere about his person.
Thea watched, fascinated, as it was filled with purses, watches and chains.
She had never seen this side of London, and the spectacle gave her time to suddenly appreciate her comfortable life a little more.
That said, she still wasn’t sure if the third robber was about to shoot her.
Most robbers carried knives or their fists – two pistols suggested this one meant business.
The original robbers finished unloading, and the third motioned for them to leave. They didn’t run, but they weren’t slow on the retreat either. It made Thea even more cautious.
The third robber returned his attention to Thea and Frankie.
He was leaner than the other two, but with his face shrouded in shadow, a scarf over his nose and mouth muffling his voice and two pistols pointing at the floor, he seemed far more menacing.
How quickly life could be snuffed out, Thea mused.
If she angered him, everything would be over.
There was still so much left that she wanted to do.
And what would happen, she wondered, if he did shoot her?
Would there be headlines in Town and Country magazine about how the Duchess of Hartford had been found dead, dressed as a man down an alleyway near Piccadilly, or would she become another anonymous corpse on the street taken away on the wagon in the morning?
What would Mrs Phibbs and Fletcher think?
She did the only thing she could think of and held out the dummy purse still clutched in her hand.
‘Just take it,’ she said, her voice wavering but happily not squeaky.
The man moved his shadowed face as he looked at the drawstring bag, but it was a brief movement before the shadowy space his eyes presumably occupied turned slowly back to her.
‘That’s it?’ he asked.
What was she supposed to say to that? It was actually it – she didn’t carry much else when she was dressed for the lectures.
She heard Frankie make a little noise in her throat, and shut her eyes, wondering if she had just succeeded in getting them both shot.
There are moments in life that shape our choices, and this was one of them, Thea mused as her thoughts raced.
She decided that if she got out of this, she was going to make a change.
To stand up for herself more. To rekindle her curiosity for the world.
To spend more time with her children and stop living for something that had gone.
She drew herself up and stared straight into where she assumed the robber’s eyes would be if they weren’t in shadow.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ she said definitely, gathering all of her courage and duchess demeanour.
‘I have children to care for and frankly I struggle to see how shooting us would help. Please take the purse and leave us alone.’ She puffed out her chest and stared at the faceless figure.
If this was it, he would have to look at her while he did it.
She wished she could see his eyes to understand what drove such a man.
Maybe he had a family too, she thought. Maybe he had a sister to protect, just like she had.
Even the person currently threatening her life had a story.
Maybe mentioning her family would help him to show some mercy.
Seconds passed during which Thea’s heartbeat thudded in her ears.
Time seemed to tick slowly until a flurry of movement made her twitch.
In one smooth motion he holstered one of the pistols and held out his hand.
Cautiously, she dropped the purse into it.
After another beat, he turned and stalked off.
She stared after him. Had compassion just won out over the instincts of a robber of robbers?
Meat with thoughts, she considered. Everyone had a story.
Then she thought she might pass out from relief.
‘Holy shit,’ breathed Frankie, as the robber’s back disappeared around the corner.
Thea eyeballed her. ‘That’s holy shit, Your Grace,’ she said, a wave of elation making her giddy.
Frankie snorted with laughter, and for a while they both leaned against the wall and took in the air they had obviously been lacking.
As Thea’s heartbeat returned to a rate which was not dangerous, their eyes held for a moment in an awkward recognition of what had gone before.
‘Sorry.’ Thea looked away and at her feet. ‘About the kiss.’
Frankie’s eyes widened. ‘It wasn’t that bad.’
Thea looked back to her, a little put out. ‘I was referring to the fact that it happened, not to the quality.’
‘Oh,’ said Frankie. ‘Neither ideal.’ Then she gestured between them. ‘You have a forest and I… well… I have not got one.’
‘No,’ said Thea, stepping back. It had been a tongue-in-cheek comment, but now the whisky’s effects had been eclipsed by outright fear, she felt silly.
Here she was, dressed as a man, with another woman with whom she shared nothing in common but a queerness and a love for plants.
She wanted to talk to Frankie more. To ask her about her experiences and to talk to her about the curiosity they held for cultivation.
She was tired of having to pay for her only intellectual stimulation and the more she experienced the real people of London, the more she knew they were the same.
But her pride, or her insecurity, or the hazardous cocktail of both made her falter.
‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’ she asked, suddenly nervous.
Frankie looked like she had been betrayed. ‘Of course I won’t.’
Thea believed her. She turned and started down the alley. ‘Let me give you a lift home.’