Redemption: A Dickensian fanfiction story

Chapter Four: The Drinking Game

(Idk, the song seems to fit the mood) 

Arthur sat in his father's old office, going over more changes to the brewery Amelia suggested. He was so far into the stack of papers that the sudden knock on the door caused him to jump and almost spill the ink from his inkwell.

"Come in."

One of the maids peeked her head in. "Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but you've got a caller."

Arthur stood up and walked over to the door, taking the note from her.

He was surprised to see it was from Clay.

"He said he wants to come by sometime today, when you're not busy. Should we fetch a messenger boy?"

Arthur shook his head.

"This note just says Havisham. Are you sure he wasn't referring to Amelia?"

"The boy said Mr. Pankhurst specifically mentioned you, Mr. Havisham."

Arthur thought for a moment.

"I think I know where to find him. Thank you, that'll be all."

The maid bowed slightly and quickly exited the room. Arthur studied the note again and wondered what Clay wanted.

There was only one way to find out.

~ ~ ~

Arthur looked around the bar, but didn't see Clay.

"Mr. Havisham, what can I get for you, a whiskey?" Mr. Wegg leaned over the counter.

Arthur shook his head. "Not this time, I'm actually looking for someone."

"Oh? Who would that be?"

"His name is Clay Pankhurst, was he here earlier?"

"Hard to say," Mr. Wegg squinted. "What's he look like?"

Very angelic, Arthur thought.

"He's a bit taller than me, yellow hair, blue eyes. He doesn't look like he's from around here."

Mr. Wegg shook his head. "I did rent a room to a gent with a description like that, but I haven't seen him down here today."

Arthur tipped his hat toward the landlord. "Thank you." He left the bar and began walking along the street, not knowing where else to go. He passed by a few shops and would glance in the window. Nothing. Arthur continued walking when something caught his eye. He had stopped short of a popular odds and ends shop. He saw a glimpse of that golden hair. He hurried in to see Clay looking at a set of silver cufflinks on a table.

"Clay," Arthur got his attention.

Clay looked up and grinned.

"Arthur, old chap!" Clay clapped a hand on Arthur. "I'm sorry for running off without a word, I had to tend to some family business. I wanted to come back and see if you were up for any more shenanigans."

Clay put down the cufflinks and followed Arthur out of the shop and back onto the street.

"I don't really have time for shenanigans, actually. I should be getting back home soon."

Clay frowned. "Why?"

Arthur explained his situation and new duties to his father's brewery and how it had been taking up most of his time.