Bryce Courtenay - The Potato Factory

'It ain't regular,' Popjoy muttered, though in an undertone. 'There's regulations.'

Titty Smart glared at his partner. 'We ain't be paid for this escort, this ain't our shift, we be nights, not day, this be our own time what the bastards 'ave robbed from us, you can stuff yer regulations up yer arse, lad!'

Before his young partner could protest further Ikey interjected, clucking the two men to silence. 'What the 'ead keeper don't see 'e don't 'ave to grieve about, now does 'e?' He rubbed his left wrist with his right hand, deliberately pulling Popjoy's arm across with him in order to do so. Then he pointed to the parlour door which still stood ajar and grinned. 'Better lock the door 'case I takes a runner!'

Albert Popjoy, shaking his head in silent disapproval, unlocked the manacle on Ikey's wrist while leaving the one on his wrist. Titty Smart walked over to the parlour door, locked it, and placed the key in his pocket.

Marybelle pointed to the manacles dangling from the wrist of Albert Popjoy and laughed. 'Don't look cosy, knows what I mean? Official. We don't go much on duty 'ere.' She cocked her head to one side and grinned at the younger turnkey. Albert Popjoy, embarrassed at the attention, took the key from his pocket and unlocked the manacle around his wrist, placing the set within his coat pocket. 'That's it, lads, nice 'n cosy, take a pew, make y'selfs at 'ome.' She looked at the coachman. 'You too,' then she took up four pewter tankards and turned again to the now seated men, arched her eyebrows and nodded her head in the direction of the cask. 'A drop o' me very best brandy for all, is it then, gentlemen?'

It came as some surprise when no more than twenty minutes later, the mulled brandy having warmed, refreshed and lighted that small, bright flame that sputters in the stomach until temporarily doused with a second drink, Ikey suggested that they must depart and offered his wrists to the two turnkeys so that they might manacle them once more.

Titty Smart nodded to his partner. 'I told you, just the one and that will do for the manacle too.' The younger man fished into his pocket and produced his set of manacles and attached them once more to Ikey's and then his own wrist.

Ikey felt momentarily triumphant. 'One down, one to go!' he thought. He felt almost free with only one wrist attached to Albert Popjoy.

Marybelle Firkin saw them to the back door and placed her hands on Ikey's shoulders. 'Cheerio, lovey,' she said and Ikey was surprised to see the brightness of moisture in her large blue eyes. She paused and grinned, though when she spoke her voice was serious. 'Yer wife told me everyfink, good luck, Ikey.' Then she turned to Smart and Popjoy, ignoring the coachman who had taken his brandy but had said no single word except to nod his thanks while he had been in the parlour. 'Always welcome, I'm sure,' she said to the two turnkeys.

She stood at the door, her red dressing gown once again filling its entire space, her pretty head almost touching the lintel. 'Come back soon, gents!' she called at the departing hackney.

To Ikey's surprise, Titty Smart licked his lips and rolled his eyes. 'Ooh, ah! I'd like to be up to a bit o' fancy 'anky panky with the likes of 'er, I would an' all!' He turned to Ikey and added, 'That be damned good Frenchy brandy, just like what you said.'

Albert Popjoy looked out of the window of the carriage and smiled in a supercilious manner, which Smart must have observed, for he turned to his partner and barked, 'Wipe that smile orf yer gob, lad. Lady like that be much too good for the likes o' yer poxy little prick!'

They arrived at the courts in Westminster with a good twenty minutes to spare. 'Would you wish me to wait, guv?' the coachman asked. 'It ain't much point in this weather toutin' for a fare. I could drive you back afterwards, no trouble and no extra fare charged, 'cept o' course for the run back and a sixpenny bag of oats for me 'orse while we's waiting.'

Ikey nodded his agreement and the three men entered the precincts of the court to be met at the steps leading into the Westminster courts by Hannah and several of Ikey's associates, most of whom were Jews from the Whitechapel markets, Petticoat and Rosemary Lanes. Their attendance was less a show of loyalty than a favour returned for a similar attendance by Ikey and Hannah at some past occasion when each of those present had faced an indictment. This was because of the wellestablished fact that, should a Jew be in the dock, the likelihood of a conviction was near five times that of any other Londoner. It became therefore the custom to try to fill the court with 'sympathetic voices' so that the mood of the rabble in the gallery would not influence the judgment.

In Ikey's present predicament this was of overwhelming importance, the fear being, that if news of his application for bail should spread, the court would soon be filled with the rabble from the streets howling for his blood and the judge, sensitive to the animosity of the public at large, might think it safer for all concerned for Ikey to remain behind bars until his trial came up.

But when the time came for Ikey's hearing to be called the clerk of the court informed Titty Smart that the judge was in his chambers. He said there would be a delay of at least an hour, taking the hearing almost to the noon hour. The man, his lips pursed, had consulted his watch, whereupon he had shaken his head. 'No time, gentlemen, at noon his worship takes luncheon at the Athenaeum Club, he'll not return until two o'clock at best!' This meant that Ikey's writ of habeas corpus would therefore not be served until the early part of that afternoon.

Ikey suggested that he stand his two keepers a good tightener at a local chop house and requested that his friends be allowed to accompany them.

'I could go a good tightener and a jug o' best ale,' Titty Smart agreed, patting his large stomach without his mandatory show of reluctance. His attitude to Ikey had considerably softened following the time spent at the Pig 'n Spit and now he turned to Albert Popjoy. 'Drop o' fodder can't 'urt, now can it, lad?'

Popjoy nodded. He too was hungry and the idea of a plate of meat – mutton chops surrounded by a generous collar of yellow fat -was a most enticing prospect. It was difficult for him to maintain his official demeanour and not show his pleasure at the anticipation of such an unexpected treat.

'That be fine,' he said in a brusque voice, though he was salivating at the thought of the tightener to come at Ikey's expense.

'My pleasure, entirely, gents,' Ikey said with great alacrity.

Hannah, who stood close to her husband, shook her head. '

'Ang on a mo'! We go into a chop 'ouse round these parts, in fact, any parts, there's plenty what will want to do Ikey an 'arm!'

A look of mutual disappointment crossed the faces of the two turnkeys, although Ikey could scarcely believe his luck. 'Gentlemen, what's to worry? Mistress Marybelle will welcome us back to the Pig! There be a dozen chop 'ouses in Rosemary Lane what can send in a banquet to suit the fancy o' the most particular appetite.' He spread his arms wide. 'What it is my great pleasure to satisfy.'

The matter was quickly settled and fifteen minutes later the three men arrived back at the Pig 'n Spit followed shortly afterwards by two hackney coaches containing the six others eager to avail themselves of Ikey's generosity. Hannah, though, protested to Ikey that she would follow a little later as young Mark had a bad cough and she must fetch some physic for him before joining them.

The fog had lifted somewhat, but the ever present miasma at rooftop level and the winter smog kept the day sombre and the visibility low. Therefore none but Ikey noted the outline of a gentleman's coach with four horses which had followed them and now passed them as they turned into the rear of the Pig 'n Spit. Nor would they have seen that it too came to a halt only a few yards further along the road.