The Artful Dodger

Chapter 7

Fagin paced a little longer, before going into his small room. All was quiet for a quarter of an hour, and then the sound of snores began to echo from the rafters to the wooden boards.

Nancy saw her chance, and bolted. She went home at a run, ignoring the way the wind whipped her hair and the rain stung her face. She flew up the stairs to her apartment and banged on the door. It opened, and Bill's intimidating figure stood before her.

"Where've you been, woman?" he said menacingly, "I never told yer you could go out. Where'd you go?"

"Now that's a double standard! Oh hell! If I ask you that question you don't reply, 'cause according to you a girl oughtn't ask questions but as soon as I go out, yer demand to know where I was!" she said, pushing her way past into the room. She was shocked to see the time on the stolen clock- half past five already?

"Where were you?" Bill repeated. He turned and drew closer to her aggressively. "Have you been with another man?"

She shook her head slightly too fast. Bill's eyes bulged in anger, and he lifted a huge hand, striking her clean across the face. She fell backwards onto the bed, clutching her jaw.

"You scoundrel!" she shouted venomously.

"You were with Mike Smith, the landlord, weren't you? You slut." he spat, and with that grabbed his coat. "You're not leaving the lodgings tonight, you understand? I'll be back, and I'll punish you. Wait here."

"Mike? I wasn't with Mike! No! BILL!" screamed Nancy, but Bill had already left and slammed the door behind him. Nancy fell back on the bed again. What was she going to do? She had to bring food to the Dodger soon, but if she left the room again, who knew what Bill would do to her?

She lay for a whole hour, thinking and muttering obscenities about Sikes, but then came to a decision. She couldn't let the Artful Dodger go hungry. Not only that, but she was sick of getting pushed around. Jack would never treat her like that, she knew.

So the determined woman sat up and wrapped herself in her shawl to disguise her crimson dress. She also grabbed a loaf of bread and a pie that was meant for Bill's supper. However she did not care. It was Dodger she wanted to feed.

Leaving the room yet again, she sneaked down the stairs and tumbled onto the street. The rain was still falling so she steered herself through the puddles, as her wet skirts flapped uselessly around her ankles. It was nearly dark. When she finally reached the building where Fagin and the boys lived, she climbed up the steps and walked across the bridge, but rather than knock on the door as was customary, she clambered off onto one of the slippery windowsills beside it. It was difficult to climb on, but she hoisted herself up and held onto the bars across the first, dusty window. Below her was a huge drop, where the muddy canal ran between the pavement slimily.

She wasn't scared... until she looked down.

It was so high! The sill was only made of wood. Her heart thumped faster than it had ever done before as she clutched onto the bricks and bars on the walls. She edged her way along slowly until she reached the window behind which she knew the Dodger was imprisoned. Peering in through the dusty window she could make out a silhouette of someone sitting against the wall, hunched over.

"Jack?"

"Nancy!" Dodger said, his dark shadow appearing to straighten up- but he quickly hushed himself because there were people in the other room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I've run away from Bill. Care to follow
me, Jack Dawkins?"

"Oh Nancy! Of course! I've never felt so alone in my whole life, and I'm so bored!" he whispered, "But how'll I escape?"

Nancy fiddled at the window latch from the outside. It was rusty, stiff, but she managed to prise it open. The window opening was tiny.