Gabe then pulled their sopping trunks from the back of the hackney and flipped Richie a coin, which the driver caught in the air and placed quickly in his pocket. Mary turned toward the tavern, a familiar haunt for Hydra’s band of spies, and prepared to bring her trunks down the alley and into the back door, which led to the hidden room which they always had reserved.
* * *
The hair on the back of Gabe’s neck rose, instinct of old catching hold of him, as Mary strolled down the narrow alley. He quickly pressed a hand to his outer coat pocket and squeezed. A small yelp told him he had been correct.
In one smooth motion, Gabe turned and knelt before an urchin boy scarcely more than five years old, his hair, face, and clothing unclean, his eyes filled with fear, and his features gaunt and dripping with rainwater.
“You will find no coin in there, lad,” he said, affecting his practiced English accent.
“I aint done noffin, mister!” The child cried, his face wreathed in horror.
“I will not have you punished,” he said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. “Where are your parents?”
“Me mum’s a whore an’ I aint got no pa. Mum don’t want me ‘round.” The boy swiped at his dripping nose with the sleeve of his coat. “But I c’n take care o’ meself, aye.” He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes of water.
“I am sorry to hear that, and I’m sure you can.” He loosened his grip on the child’s hand, lost in thought for a moment. “I have an offer for you.”
The child turned his face up at Gabe in hesitation. “Wot kind o’ ffer?”
“Anoffer. What is your name, lad?”
“Mary, mister,” the child said in a small voice.
Gabe’s eyebrows rose. A girl! “I beg your pardon, Mary, I did not mean to offend.”
“It aint noffin.” The girl shrugged.
“My lady friend’s name is Mary, as well.”
The girl looked over Gabe’s shoulder, presumably at Mary. Gabe kept his eyes on the hungry child.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Gabe affirmed. “She has been my friend since I was a child not much older than you.” He smiled down at the little girl. “Now, I have a quid for you if you do me one favour.”
The girl’s eyes lit with greed and worry simultaneously. “Wot faver?” Water sprayed from the child’s lips as she spoke.
“I will tell you a direction. If you go to a man’s house and tell him I am waiting here for him, I will send along a note that says he has to pay you one quid.” He held up a hand to halt her agreement. “Ifyou return with the man, I will give you a hot meal,twoquid, and an opportunity for you to go to school.”
The girl gazed at him skeptically. “No man gives away all that fer noffin, sir. Not even no toff.”
“Ask my lady friend,” Gabe gestured toward where Mary stood smiling at the child. “She went to the same school.”
“You one o’ them wot teaches at a skool?”
“No.” Gabe grinned. “But a very good friend of mine is.”
The girl nodded, swiping at her nose once more. “Okay, sir. Where’s the man wot you need me t’ talk to?”
* * *
Sir Charles Bradley placed a hand at little Mary’s drenched back and led her through the side door to the tavern, through the hall, and directly into the back meeting room.
“Do not be afraid, Mary,” he soothed, removing his sopping hat from his head.
“I aint afraid o’ noffin,” she said, though Charles knew the sound of fear when he heard it.
The door opened and both Gabe and Mary stood from their seats near the fire. Charles ushered little Mary past the trunks, which sat on the floor near the entrance, and directed her into the centre of the comfortingly familiar room.
