Dodger

clothes, hadn’t they, fair and square? He knew that Solomon had most definitely got a receipt, Solomon being the kind of person who was almost as anxious about getting the receipt as he was about getting the relevant merchandise itself.
    In this moment of slight panic Dodger recognized, coming towards them, Henry Mayhew and his wife, and indeed Simplicity was running towards Jane Mayhew to give her a hug.
    While that was going on, Henry held out his hands to Dodger and said cheerfully, ‘The man of the moment. Mister Dodger, I have made a study of the multiple classes of people in London, and it does seem to me that you are climbing the ladder faster, if I may say so, than a chimpanzee.’ He smiled nervously and said, ‘No offence, of course.’ And indeed no offence was taken as Dodger had no idea what a chimpanzee was and made a mental note to ask Solomon later.
    So Dodger took Simplicity somewhat nervously on his arm and followed the Mayhews into the dining room. And succeeded in parking her exactly where Angela had intended, according to the smile of approval.
    Then Angela turned to him and said, ‘Well now, Dodger, I wonder if you have met my very good friend Sir Robert Peel? I suspect you may have some things in common.’ Her eyes twinkled as she introduced the two men, as if she was actually introducing the two sets of matching trousers.
    Sir Robert Peel smiled, although because of Dodger’s nerves, it seemed to him more like a grimace, and said, ‘Oh yes, the Hero of Fleet Street. I would very much like to have a quiet word with you.’
    Dodger looked into those eyes and they had ‘copper’ all over them. He thought: Is that always how it’s going to be? Always being the man who took down Sweeney Todd? Well, it was useful, no doubt about it, but somehow it was awkward as well, like wearing another man’s trousers, which in a sense was what he was doing right now. And the man was still watching him carefully, as if sizing him up.
    People were now sitting down. Dodger was urged towards the chair next to Angela, with Simplicity already seated on his other side and Solomon beside her. Sir Robert – or ‘Dear Rob’, as Angela called him – sat on Angela’s other side.
    In a lowered voice, Angela said to him, ‘Does it hurt? You wince when somebody calls you the Hero of Fleet Street. Do you not notice that? Charlie tells me that you are quite clear that people should know that the facts of the matter are not as they seem, and I suggest that you feel that every commendation for you is a damnation for Mister Todd, and I must say that this is to your credit. One feels there was another kind of heroism, of the kind which is often ignored. I will bear this in mind because I do have some influence. Sometimes a word in the right place can do a lot of good.’ She smiled then, and said, ‘Do you like it, scrabbling in the sewers for money? Tell the truth now!’
    ‘I don’t need to tell a lie,’ said Dodger. ‘It’s freedom, miss, that’s the truth, and pretty safe if you keep your wits about you and use your head. I reckon I earns more than a chimney sweep any day of the week, and soot, well it’s terrible stuff, miss, not good for you at all. Bad for you inside and out, my oath! But when I come back from the tosh, well, good old lye soap does the trick. Not what you would call fancy, but you do feel clean.’
    The conversation had to stop there as waiters came past, and after the noise of the plates and the – oh so much – cutlery, Miss Burdett-Coutts said, ‘You appear to be everywhere and into everything , according to my informants, rather like the famous, or if you prefer, the
in
famous highwayman Dick Turpin. Have you heard of him, young man? What do you think about his extraordinary ride to York on his mare Black Bess? I believe they are doing plays about him now and the public just love him, because he was a scallywag.’
    Looking apprehensively at the meal put in front of him, Dodger said, ‘I have heard about the gent, madam, and I like the way he put a shine on the world. But I think he was clever, and far too clever to ride all the way to York. Too risky, and while I have to say I ain’t – I beg your pardon, I
am not
– a horseman, I reckon that he would have knackered the horse within an hour if he’d done it as fast as they said. No, I reckon he rushed up to some of his mates what he knew to be not all that matey and shouted out something like, “Pray for me, my lads,