Bag of Weasels. Chapter 22

Flea looked around, and seemed genuinely concerned.
"Where's my letter? screamed Doinky, unable to wait any longer, and the crowd grumbled its support. I sensed a rat-pack forming.
"I ain't got no bleedin' letter of yours, fraggle,
Fleas first words earned him an extra arm-twist from Ralph: "You watch it Flea. Don't go calling him names.
"Listen! cried Flea, "I really ain't got no letter though! I don't know what you're talking about. What do I want with a poxy letter? What you all going on about?
Doinky tried to run at him, shouting "Thief! Thief! but Didgy still held him by the hand and stopped him getting close.
"I'll tell you what we're going on about, you bastard, said Didgy.
Flea found his swagger: "Oh, so he can call me a bastard, can he? Why don't you give him some of your treatment? Why don't you torture him as well?
In answer, Ralph twisted some more, and pushed Flea down onto his knees.
"You behave, he growled, and gave Didgy the nod.
"Right. I'll tell you. Now you know what he's like, and he's been up to his usual, skulking around in the shadows, making his snidey comments, upsetting people, giving them sly digs.
He ain't getting into the spirit, that's for sure. I mean, we've all fetched up here and we're in it together, whatever it is, but him he's poison, he's¦
"Get to it, prompted Ralph.
"Right. Right. OK. It's simple. I caught him with his hands in Doinky's pockets.
"Oi! Hang on.. ow! a quick twist of the arm.
"Shut up Flea. Your turn'll come.
Didgy went on: "Didn't I Doinky?
"Yeah. Didn't see til Didgy shouted. He'd sneaked right up and was rummaging round with one hand in my outside pocket, while his other hand was slipping inside. He scared me, he did.
"Yeah but I spotted him, and the scream went up and so off he scuttled, said Didgy. "But a little while later, Doinky's pulled out his papers, and found the letter was missing.
Ralph yanked Flea to his feet. He was fidgeting about, glancing around; all his swagger was gone.
"Ok, alright, it's true. I had me hands in his pockets.
This was greeted with much booing and cursing from the ranks.
"Wait. I'll tell you why. None of you smoke, or so you say, and you've never got a light when I ask, have you? Well that's interesting, since you've got these fires going nicely, haven't you? What did you do, rub two sticks together? Bollocks.
Now, I know you don't like me, and I couldn't give a flying one ' the feeling's mutual. But don't take me for a cunt. I've been asking all day for a light, and I keep singeing me face and burning me hands on fires and bits of burning wood, so I thought bollocks to it, and bollocks to you, I'll help meself. And that's just what I did.
He gave it a second.
"I was looking for matches.
"Fuck off! shouted Didgy.
"Yeah, fuck off, joined in Doinky.
"Matches my arse, you were nicking his letter,
"Why the bloody fucking hell would I? What do I want with it? Why? You're all fucked in the head,
He was getting desperate now ' he'd smelled the situation, it could get very dark for him, and he tried tugging free from Ralph's grip despite the pain it caused him.
But the crowd was closing in on the pair of them. Flea started hurling the worst abuse he could think up, and Ralph, apparently convinced by the recent evidence, looked ready to sling him to his fate, maybe even chip in with some punishment of his own.
Fair enough, and I'd seen worse.
But I knew Flea wasn't the thief.