The Guinea Thief - London

Jack and Delphine stepped out of the coach, relieved the long journey was finally over.
“Wait here a moment I’m just going to ask the yard man if he remembers seeing Georges here and knows where they went.”
Jack was swiftly back.
“One of the lads remembers Georges, because he was so rude. He demanded that they be taken immediately to a hotel in Covent Garden. It’s the same one that Queenie recommended to us. Lucky for us he made such a fuss he was remembered. So with luck we should find him there.”
“Let’s hope so.”
The boy’s getting us a cab, he says it’s ten minutes from here and it’ll cost a shilling. And it cost me a penny to find that out. “
Delphine went to get a coin from her purse.
“I can get this. I have some money left over from lunch. And I did bring a few shillings of my own.”
According the cab driver the hotel in Covent Garden was near a place known as seven dials. Jack wondered if that meant there were seven clocks, and why you would need seven clocks all telling the same time. London is strange.
The entrance to the hotel looked neat and tidy rather than grand and the welcome was most welcoming. At the mention of Queenie’s name the woman behind the reception desk remarked,
“How strange. More guests that Queenie has sent my way this week. I haven’t had anyone from your neck of the woods in ages, and then five in two days.”
“Would one of the other guests by any chance be Mr Cadoudal? He’s this young lady’s brother. We were hoping he’d be staying here”
“Your brother is he now?” The receptionist viewed Delphine with renewed interest, “Yes he is staying with us. If you were hoping to see the gentleman, I’m afraid you’ve already missed him. He’s gone out for the evening to Vauxhall Gardens I do believe. I overheard him hail a cab outside.” she said answering the unasked question.
“Vauxhall Gardens you say?”
“Yes.”
“Is that the kind of place where it would be easy to find someone?”
“Happen you might, happen you might not. It’s an awfully big place, and there’s lots of walks and trees. But if you go down to the firework finale, you might be lucky. Tis quite dark, even so. How about, I leave him a message that you’ve arrived, in case you miss him?”
“Yes please, that’s an excellent idea.”
“Could I write it please?”
“Yes of course you can miss. My writing aint the best.” Jack watched as the landlady wrote their names in the guest book, she was right, she had spelt his name Jak, Delphine’s was unrecogniseable.
“And how many nights will you be staying with us?” the landlady asked Jack.
“Hopefully just the one.”
“All this way and you are only going to stay one night. Now I call that a right royal shame. You should show your girl a good time.”
While Delphine folded up her note, the receptionist handed Jack the key to their room.
“So, I’ve put you upstairs on the top floor. It’s nice and quiet up there.”
“Just the one key? Sorry I should have said, we will be needing two rooms.”
“Two rooms? I’m sorry Sir, that’s my last room. It’s very busy at the moment. Is that going to be alright Sir, if it’s just the one room?”
Jack looked at Delphine and shrugged. He really wasn’t sure how she would react.
“I could sleep on the floor?” he suggested.
“Would you be able to send up some extra blankets and pillows for him?” asked Delphine.
“Of course Dearie.”
“I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention to my brother that I’m sharing a room with Mr Wilson. He might not understand.”
“My lips are sealed. Don’t you worry.” The landlady winked at Delphine in a way that made her feel most uncomfortable.
Delphine snatched the key from Jack, and began to go upstairs.
After a couple of stairs Delphine realised Jack was not following her. She turned round. Jack was still by the reception desk.
“I’ll wait down here for the blankets.” Jack explained.
Delphine shrugged her shoulders. “And just so you know. I am not his girl!”

“Well you’ve got a right bundle of trouble there and no mistake.”
“She’s right with what she said. She’s not my girl.”
“If she’s not your girl, how come she’s come alone with you to London?”
“She’s here to see her brother. I’m just here to keep her safe.”
“Well in London you can’t be too careful.”

Vauxhall Gardens had long been the most fashionable place to spend a summer’s evening in London. But unfortunately for Jack and Delphine it was the first day of November and the garden’s attractions were not quite so obvious. The long walks which would have been so lovely in the flower scented twilight of midsummer were actually quite scary in the thick late autumn fog which drifted across from the river that night. After wandering around the maze of tree lined avenue for some time, only able to see a few yards ahead, Delphine stopped and slumped onto a nearby bench.
“I really don’t think we are going to find Georges here. We can’t even see properly. I’ve never known a fog like this. It’s thick like smoke and I’m sure it’s hurting my eyes, they really sting.”
“This fog is strange isn’t it? I’ve never seen green fog before. That must be why they call it pea soup fog. Somehow I’d never thought of it being a different colour from normal fog. I think you’re right, it’s going to be impossible to find anyone here. What do you want to do?”
“Let’s go back. It’s been a long day. And although I’ve been just sitting for most of the day, I am really tired. Let’s sleep, we can catch up with Georges in the morning.”
“Alright.”
A cab took them back to Covent Garden, as Jack felt in his pocket for yet another one shilling fare he thought ruefully how right Robert had been. In London money really did slip through your fingers like water.
“How can anyone afford to live in London?” he muttered to himself as they walked up the steps of the hotel.
Upstairs in the room, Jack made himself as comfortable as possible on the bedroom floor and prepared himself for sleep. But sleep didn’t come. Delphine lay just a few feet away, and he really wasn’t sure what to do.
“Are you asleep?” he whispered.
“Yes.” Delphine answered.
“I’m not. I can’t get to sleep.”
“I can hear that.”
Jack didn’t respond. In the dark he couldn’t tell if Delphine was cross with him or not.
The silence was suffocating. Jack could barely breathe.
At last Delphine broke the silence. “Do you want to come here and talk?
“Yes. Is that alright? I know you said you were tired.”
“Stop talking and come here before I change my mind and tell you how annoying you are.”
Jack came and lay on the bed next to Delphine. She had her back to him.
“That wasn’t much of an invitation.”
She turned to face him and smiled. “I didn’t think you needed one.”
He reached out and tenderly moved a few stray hairs which had fallen across her face. She had sat on the bed and plaited her long hair before sleeping and the intimacy of watching her had been the cause of Jack’s sleeplessness. He desperately wanted to kiss her, but just as desperately he didn’t want to offend her.
“You know earlier, when you said you weren’t my girl.”
“Yes.”
“I wish you were.”
“Oh Jack. Sometimes you are so stupid. Of course I am your girl. I just didn’t like the way that woman was talking about me. I hate it when people judge you, think they know you. She doesn’t know anything about me. “
“Why are you so cross with the world tonight?” he asked.
“Because if my brother finds out I will be in such trouble, and we haven’t done anything wrong he has. It’s all just so unfair. ”

The next morning when they went down for breakfast, they discovered they had slept in till late. It was almost lunchtime. The landlady passed Delphine a message from Georges.
Delphine, I’m with the Comte at his club White’s in St James.
Come as soon as you can.

Ton frère Georges

Jack and Delphine hailed a hansom cab and a short while later pulled up outside a rather grand building. Although it was still early in the day a number of carriages were waiting outside, and by the looks on the faces of their drivers they were preparing themselves for a long wait. As Jack and Delphine mounted the steps an unseen hand opened the heavily gilded door. A uniformed doorman with plenty of braid and a spectacular handlebar moustache doffed his cap and invited Jack to come inside and present his credentials to the clerk at the desk in the foyer. Delphine went to follow him, and the doormen politely but firmly stopped her.
“Ladies are not permitted at Whites. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait outside.”
“What do you mean I’m not allowed inside? I’m expected by Monsieur le Comte de Bercy.”
“Miss if you are expected then the Comte must be a new member. Ladies never have been, and never will be allowed to step foot in Whites. This is a gentleman’s club.”
“What sort of gentleman would object to women?”
“Married ones mostly, I think you’ll find Miss.”
Jack came back out to see why Delphine was not behind him.
“He won’t let me in.”
“The lady is with me.”
“I’m sure she is Sir. However the rules are very strict. No women.”
“Go and tell the Comte that I’m waiting outside. We’ll have to find somewhere else to meet.” said Delphine.
“Will you be alright out here? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Delphine looked along the street, in spite of the cold wind there were plenty of people around.
“I’ll be fine. Just don’t be long. You are starting to make a habit of leaving me waiting outside.”
“It’s not deliberate.”
“No. I know. But the effect is the same.”
Jack stepped back inside and glanced around the splendid wood panel foyer. It was clearly a very wealthy club. Huge paintings of various illustrious figures from history hung from the walls and above the splendid marble fireplace was an elaborately decorated shield and sword. Both had clearly been used in battle. Jack moved closer to read the inscription. Spoils of victory taken from the glorious defeat of the Duke of Monmouth, Battle of Sedgemoor, 6th July 1685.
Noticing the thin and unwelcoming smile from the direction of the desk, Jack collected his thoughts.
“Good Afternoon. Jack Wilson. I’m here on business to see the Comte de Bercy.”
“Indeed Sir, and is Monsieur le Comte expecting you?”
“I believe he is.” said Jack.
Immediately word was sent to the Comte that his visitor, Mr Jack Wilson had arrived. A moment later the Comte stepped out of one of the upstairs rooms, greeted Jack warmly from the top step and invited him to join him for a hand of whist and a whiskey.
Jack made his way up the stairs. The Comte showed Jack into a cosy gentleman’s study. There were a number of comfortable chairs, a whole wall lined with books (clearly unread), and at the farthest corner from the door four leather tub chairs and a card table. A haze of smoke drifted languidly from the direction of the two chairs facing away from the Comte. The scent of cigars hung palpably in the air.
“Jack, delighted to meet you, any friend of Georges is a friend of mine. We need a fourth hand so you’ve come at just the right time. You do play whist don’t you?” said the Comte.
“I’m afraid I don’t. And I’ve had to leave Delphine outside. They won’t let her in.”
“Why ever not?”
“The doorman said no women were allowed.”
“Wait here, I’ll see about that.” The Comte gave a tug of the bell pull by the fireplace.
Within moments a manservant appeared.
“Giles I have a very important lady guest waiting outside.” The Comte took a sovereign from his pile heaped on the card table and gave it to the servant.
“Could you please see to it that she is brought up immediately and apologise to her for the inconvenience of being kept waiting.” said the Comte.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible my lord.”
“What do you mean it isn’t possible?”
“Club rules Sir, they are very strict. No women are allowed at Whites.”
“No women. How ridiculous. What about the serving girls?”
“There are no serving girls. Perhaps you haven’t noticed Sir but you are only ever served by men.”
“What there are no women here at all? How very odd. In Portsmouth there were women everywhere. I rather liked it. It added colour to my day. Why on earth would you not want to have women here?”
“Our members actually appreciate the fact that at the club there are no women. They see enough of them at home.”
The Comte shook his head. “The English gentleman is a strange beast. In France this would never be the case, we fill our salons with beautiful women on which to feast the eye. Perhaps not our wives, but mon Dieu where would we be without our mistresses.” The Comte winked at Jack.
“Sir with respect, Delphine is still outside.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Francis, mon ami, I’m afraid the cards will have to wait. Georges. Allez-y. It appears we are keeping your delightful sister waiting, and that really wouldn’t do. She has come a long way to be with you.”
Georges stood up. Jack had no idea he was there, Georges had been hidden by his chair.
“Jack.”
“Georges.”
“Well now that the pleasantries are over how about we go to my hotel for a spot of lunch?” suggested the Comte.
The Clarendon was a grand hotel on Bond Street, and currently was the home of a number of aritstocratic émigrés. Fortunately for them Louis XVIII’s chef had been spared the guillotine, and had found employment at this grand establishment. So the delights of the table of the Sun King were still available to the remains of his court in exile. It was one of the mercies they were probably most grateful for. The thought of eating English food for the rest of the days was more than they could bear.

The Comte ordered lunch, not a word of which Jack understood. So he had really no idea what to expect when the plates began to arrive at the table. For Jack everything seemed rather small and covered in sauce. At one point he was tempted to ask for some gravy, but thought better of it. Over lunch they made small talk, and Jack realized Georges was completely unaware of the purpose of their visit. He seemed to assume Delphine was bored of Portsmouth, and had come to London to see the sights. Jack saw Delphine was frustrated by the idle chatter, and was about to launch into a tirade against her brother. Jack touched her gently on the knee and leaned in close to say.
“Not here, we need to do this somewhere more discreet.”
Delphine nodded her head. Jack was right.
When the six course lunch was finally over, and Jack felt he could not have popped a single morsel more into his mouth coffee was served. Jack suggested that they take the coffee into the library as they had something they wished to discuss in private. The Comte agreed enthusiastically, but Georges looked warily at Jack.
“I hope you are not here to ask for permission to marry my sister? Because I tell you now, I will say no. She will never marry an Englishman.”
“Georges!” Delphine was mortified.
“No Sir. That’s not why I am here. Though it would be an honour which I would be prepared to fight for.”
“Come come, gentlemen. No dueling please. No demands for satisfaction. Georges, you really must learn to be a little more tactful.”
“Georges the reason we have come all this way, is because you killed a man that night on the beach. The man you killed was a revenue officer and Robert has been arrested for his murder.”
“Ah. I wondered what sort of uniform that was. That is most regrettable.”
“But Georges, don’t you see Robert is going to die. He’s on trial for a murder you committed, not him. You may have shot the Captain, but he will hang.”
“Quelle tragedie.”
“Georges you don’t seem to be taking this seriously. You have to do something, it’s not right.”
“C’est tres dommage, but in war terrible things happen. Do you remember the day in Auray when they made us watch as they shot all my men dead? They made my people chose which of their fellow Bretons would live or die. Delphine, life is not fair, stop trying to make it to be some fairy tale, when the good prevail over the wicked. The wicked always win. And I plan to be on the winning side, alive.”
“The man you shot may have been an officer, but you were not at war, he was not your enemy. There was no a battle, there was not even a fight. You pulled out a gun and you shot him dead, without him even knowing you were there. It’s about right and wrong, honour and justice, not good versus evil. What you did was wrong. I was there, I saw it. And if I hadn’t have screamed, you would have shot me too. If you don’t tell them it was you who shot the Captain, I will.”
“You were there? It was you who screamed? Mon Dieu Delphine, you are so stupid. I told you not to come. Why were you there?”
“I was there to see Papa. But that really is not the point. What are you going to do about Robert?”
““Do? What can I do? Nothing. In war people die. Does it matter how?”
“Georges what you did has nothing to do with war. You were an idiot and you did a terrible thing and now you must make it right.”
Georges reached across and slapped Delphine across the face.
“Tais-toi putain. I saw a soldier, I thought he was coming for us. I’m sorry for what is happening to Robert, but I did what I did to save your stupid English lover’s arse. ”
Delphine was stunned. She put her hand to her cheek, looked at her brother and spat him in the face. “Tête de cochon.”
She turned around, “Jack let’s go. We need to get out of here before this cretin kills us all. ”
Jack had no idea what had been said between them, but the ferocity of the slap and Delphine’s response left him in no doubt.
They left the hotel and began to walk along the street. The Comte rushed out to find them.
“I am sorry Georges reacted that way. It was most ungentlemanly. I will speak to Georges. I’m sure there is something I can do to help. Of course I honestly can’t see him handing himself in to the magistrate or coming to Portsmouth for the trial, but you are right Delphine. An innocent man should not be hung for something he has not done. In France we have seen too many innocent people lose their heads, I hope that in England justice has a chance to prevail. Let me see what I can do to put things right.”
“Merci Monsieur le Comte.”
“Je vous en prie Delphine. I hate to see you so upset. It spoils your beautiful face.”
Jack stepped forward and offered his hand to the Comte, “My whole family really do appreciate your offering to help. Thank-you from us all.” Jack put his arm around Delphine’s shoulders and led her away.
“Are you alright?” he whispered in her ear,
A single tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away and smiled ruefully at Jack.
“I think I have just lost a brother and you may have just lost your father.”