Dodger

sign. To be frank, a rat running over your boots in the sewer did not, when you thought about it, seem that much like a sign. Was it a sign, or was it just a rat? Oh well, what was the difference? The Lady always had rats around her, and he had half hoped to see a beautiful face magically appear on the dripping bricks of the sewer.
    The traffic rattled overhead and the usual punctuated silence remained distinctly empty, and so Dodger added, ‘Grandad, who you most surely have heard of, told me that you always had a pair of shoes on – I mean, not boots but real shoes, so if you would be so good as to smooth my way, I will give you the best pair of shoes that money can buy. Thanking you in expectation, Dodger.’
    That afternoon, Solomon pretended to be amazed at how much care Dodger was taking to get ready for the theatre.
    Dodger scrubbed out every crevice and corner several times while thinking about the Outlander. He’d never heard of him, but then you don’t get to hear about everybody and it was certainly unlikely that anybody would try anything at the theatre, wasn’t it? But later, in his little private world behind the curtain, as Solomon went through his own ablutions with a considerable amount of splashing and grunting, he carefully took Sweeney Todd’s razor from its hiding place and stared at it.
    It was a razor,
just
a razor. But it was also a fear and a legend. He could slip it into his pocket quite easily. Izzy had done some magnificent work; in fact, the jacket had an inner pocket which just did the job perfectly, and Dodger wondered whether, since this jacket had originally been intended for Sir Robert Peel, Sir Robert Peel had required there to be an inner pocket for those items that a gentleman walking the street might need to get hold of in a hurry – brass knuckles, perhaps.
    He sighed and put the razor back in its hiding place. He was uncertain if he wanted to sit next to Simplicity with that so close, and as soon as he had that thought, he felt a little shocked and told himself, Mister Todd killed, but he wasn’t a killer. Maybe if he’d never had to go to that blessed war, he wouldn’t have gone right off his head. But however he looked at it, today at least was not the day for Sweeney Todd’s razor to be on the streets.
    Angela had told Solomon to expect a coach that would take them all to the theatre. Dodger found himself looking out for it at least an hour before it was due to reach them, and was gratified that when it did arrive, there were two brawny footmen with it, well spruced up. Their well-set jaws and knowing eyes indicated that they were more than happy to take on anyone in the rookeries who got closer to the coach than they wanted them to.
    Solomon got in first. When Dodger stepped in behind him, he was totally crestfallen not to see Simplicity inside, but one of the coachmen poked his head in the coach, gave Dodger an uncharacteristic smile and said, ‘The ladies are still getting ready for the performance, sir, and so we were told to pick you up first. I’m also to tell you that there are refreshments that you may wish to savour during the journey.’ Then, and in a far less nobby voice the footman said, ‘The man that battled Sweeney Todd. Oh my, I can’t wait to tell my old mum!’
    While Solomon critically inspected the little well-stocked bar inside the carriage with, as it turned out, great approval, Dodger was thinking hard. Never mind about the Outlander, he thought, but there was something at the back of his mind that was playing over and over again the words that Mrs Holland had told him. Something wasn’t right: what she had told him sounded like, well, a story, rather like Sweeney Todd’s razor, and Dodger knew the truth about Sweeney Todd’s razor, didn’t he? Admittedly, he thought ruefully, he had made up parts of that story so now he was some kind of brave warrior to a lot of people while in his heart he knew himself only as a smart young man.
    Swift as a knife, the thought came back. How much of that is the same for this Outlander? Him with all his ladies? Does that sound quite real? he thought. He answered himself: No; even Mrs Holland is pretty well terrified of him, and maybe the Outlander had spun a little spell that made him bigger and more dangerous than he was. Ah yes, that made Dodger feel better. It was like showmanship; it was always showmanship that got you through, and he had a show of his own to prepare.
    He reminded himself that