The Artful Dodger

Chapter 8

Nancy would never know, but the Dodger was in exactly the same place as she left him. He didn't know what to do. He had seen a body, a real dead body, lying in a puddle of blood. The image was burned into his eyes; everywhere he looked he could see the dead man. Haunted by those visions, he stumbled through the alleys in the direction of Fagin's den. He forgot his imprisonment; he forgot his escape. He walked up the wooden steps slowly, and collapsed onto the bridge before he reached the door. His hat rolled away but he didn't notice. Despite the rain, he lay there sobbing and trying to think straight. He couldn't. Blood. It was the colour of Nancy's dress. Where had Nancy been taken by Bill? Was she safe? Dodger's thoughts raced all night, and he wasn't in his right mind by the time he stood up and banged on the door early that morning.

"DODGER? Where were you?" Fagin shouted angrily, yanking the boy inside, but when he saw the haunted expression and pale face, his rage evaporated. Immediately, became concerned.

"Dodger?"

The other pickpockets surrounded the Artful Dodger, asking him questions.

"Where you been?"

"You alright mate?" said Davy.

Fagin shushed them, but it was already too late. Dodger, through exhaustion, hunger and shock, blacked out and hit the ground. His soaking hat rolled away and the boys rioted.

"Get water!" yelled Paul, "I know what to do!"

The boys stopped shouting and looked at him with irritated expressions on their faces. Before Paul had been initiated into the gang, he was adopted by his late uncle, Doctor Birling, and so he considered himself quite the medical expert. However this was not quite so- for without Paul's advice, Dodger, after a minute or so, came around.

"Where am I?" he said, woozily. Then suddenly he focused his eyes on Fagin's bearded face.

"Fagin, Oliver's with Rose. He's with Rose." said Dodger.

Though he originally intended to leave them both alone and happy, he had realised during his long night that Oliver and Rose could not be safe. Not on their own, after what he had seen.

"Do yer know where they are?" asked Fagin as a grin appeared on his face.

"I'll be able to find them," said Dodger, his face set. He was determined to make sure they didn't fall into danger from vicious men like Bill.

"What's wrong, Dawkins? How did you get out of the cell? Why're you so pale? Why'd yer faint?" asked Charley Bates, putting his arm around his friend.

"I saw someone getting killed last night. I saw the body, everything. I don't wanna talk about it. Davy, come with me. Let's go find Oliver and Rose."

The rain had almost stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine. The Dodger felt lightheaded, having had no sleep, but he was determined to get the job done. They walked towards the marketplace where Rose sold her flowers.

"Dodger?" asked Davy, after a few minutes of walking silently, "Who did you see getting murdered?"

"The landlord of the pub. Mike, I think. I don't wanna talk about it, okay? We need ter find Rose and Oliver."

Jack Dawkins set his face and pulled the brim of his wet hat down, hiding his brown eyes- which were threatening to spill over with tears.

His companion nodded. They approached the market together, and as soon as they got into the square they looked around.

Davy spotted them first.

"Look! Dodger, I see Oliver! There he is- is that the Rose girl? Why's she cryin'?"

The Artful Dodger looked, saw them and rushed over. He held his hat on his head so it wouldn't be gusted away by the wind, for without his hat Dodger felt vulnerable- even more so than he did already.

"Rose! Oliver!"

Oliver looked up. His arm was around Rose and his grimy face was streaked with tears. They were sitting on a stone step leading into a building, next to an alleyway. There was another boy standing nearby but they ignored his presence.

"Dodger and Davy!" replied Oliver.

"What's wrong with you two?" asked Davy.

"Rose's father..." said Oliver, fresh tears appearing.

"What about him?"

"He... he..." gulped Oliver, unable to speak properly.

"Spit it out, boy!" Davy said.

"I... I've been living with Rose's family for the past few days. Her father works at night and comes back in the morning, and last night..."

"What?"

"He never came back," Oliver stifled a sob, "Today one of the bar maids, Yoko, dropped by at our house and told us that he was..." he stopped, unable to say the next word.

Dodger leaned forward and looked at Oliver properly.

"He was murdered last night by some man at the pub. And- we don't know what to do or where to go. Rose's mother died ten years ago when she was having Peter, and we can't look after ourselves, because Rose won't have any flower money to buy flowers every morning. Do you think Fagin would take me back? And Rose?"

Dodger's heart felt as if it had stopped beating. He couldn't reply.

"Oh!" said Davy, shocked, "That was the one you were talking about, Dodger! The landlord!"

Rose lifted her head, her beautiful face wet from tears.

"You knew about it?" she said.

"Rose, I saw it 'appen. I didn't know it was your father. Oh, Rose, Oliver, I'm so sorry. I'm sure Fagin will take you in! And who's this chap here? Are you spyin' on us?"

The small, blonde boy who was standing nearby started. He had tears in his eyes, but he didn't reply.

"He's Peter. Rose's brother. Would Fagin take him too?" said Oliver, hopefully.

"Sure, if any gentleman 'e knows introduces him-"

"Dodger. Was it quick? How did it happen? Who did it?" Rose interjected, firing questions at him. She was desperate to have some closure and her eyes pleaded for information.

"I don't want to talk about it and I dunno who it was," Dodger lied, because he knew she would meet Bill if she came to live with them. He didn't want to make her even more scared of him- he was quite an imposing character. "An' yeah. Mike was... beaten quite a bit, but the first blow to the head probably did it. Oh Rose, don't cry so! Forget I said that!"

Dodger, forgetting his image and jealousy, pulled Oliver and Rose up and flung his arms around them. Davy hesitated and joined in the hug too, not wanting to stand alone. Peter joined last with his eyes spilling over, looking for comfort. This lasted several minutes at least, and there wasn't a dry eye to be seen. The market carried on its business as usual- but they didn't care. Eventually Dodger pulled away.

"Let's go, everyone."

Dodger held out his hand for Rose, and she took it gratefully. He pretended not to be bothered, but his red face revealed that he was really rather excited about her acceptance. Oliver trailed behind them with Peter and Davy, on their mournful march back to the den, Rose and Peter for the first time. They crossed the sewer canal together and traversed the alleys, and when the subdued company straggled up the steps and across the bridge Fagin and the boys celebrated.

"Dodger! Davy! I knew you'd bring Oliver back! And who are these? Rose and...?" Fagin said, as he scrutinised the faces of the newcomers.

"Peter, he's Rose's brother."

"Dodger, I didn't say 'bring the whole family', did I?"

"Fagin, sir, the man killed at the pub last night was their father. They had nowhere else to go."

Fagin tutted and shook his head.

"Nasty business that were, Mike Smith was a good man, a good man. Fine, you shall stay. Peter, come alonga me, I need to teach you a few things. Rose, go with Charley and Davy. They'll show yer how to pick the initials outta handkerchiefs. Scram!"