The Happy Days of Being a Factory Owner in London – Chapter 19
by MonoSchemes
Group activity!
Hearing Nancy’s words, Holmes’s eyebrows immediately shot up.
He looked at Arna, mouthing the words ‘in private,’ as if Arna ought to know exactly why Nancy had come to chat with Mrs. Hudson.
Arna grabbed a piece of paper from the side, scribbled down a few words, and held it up.
I don’t know either!
Watson looked back and forth, then hesitated and walked toward the door. “Perhaps we should go receive her? At the very least, we cannot leave her waiting downstairs indefinitely.”
Eavesdropping was hardly gentlemanly behavior.
“No,” Holmes said, grabbing Watson with quick reflexes. “Let us listen first.”
As the three upstairs waited with bated breath, the two downstairs fell silent for a short while.
Then, Mrs. Hudson’s gentle voice drifted up. “Of course, dear. My sitting room is just inside. Would you like to come in for some tea?”
Nancy’s reply was too low to make out, but the faint sound of their retreating footsteps could be heard before they faded away entirely.
A fire burned in the cozy little sitting room. The heat radiated warmly against the walls, drawing out the scent of the hanging lavender and filling the space.
Mrs. Hudson led Nancy inside and invited her to sit on the sofa, bearing the demeanor of a woman who had seen it all and was prepared for the worst.
Nancy was usually composed, but now her fingers gripped the tassels of her shawl, twisting them absentmindedly until her knuckles turned white.
She didn’t know how to explain this to Mrs. Hudson.
As a respectable landlady living on Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson was far removed from the East End and everything that went with it.
And the last thing Nancy wanted to do was expose her most disgraceful side in front of her.
She gathered her courage and opened her mouth—
“Now, dear, don’t fret so,” Mrs. Hudson interrupted briskly, pressing a steaming cup of tea into her hands. “Whatever the matter is, we shall sort it out. Worrying does no good.”
She asked, “What is this regarding?”
Nancy opened her mouth again, then closed it.
Where to begin? Start with Fagin taking her in, and end with their filthy plot?
The words caught in her throat.
Yes, Mrs. Hudson, that’s right. I’m part of a scheme to rob your nephew, and my role in the conspiracy is to help get Aisas drunk?
She couldn’t say that, especially not while Mrs. Hudson was looking at her with such motherly concern.
Seeing her hesitate, Mrs. Hudson couldn’t help but grow nervous herself.
In all fairness, Nancy was a good girl—capable, generous, and straightforward. Mrs. Hudson had always thought highly of her.
Though the neighbors occasionally gossiped, whispering nasty things about the girl, Mrs. Hudson had never paid them any mind.
“You’d best be careful, Mrs. Hudson,” the idle gossip a neighbor had spat out that morning still haunted her ears. “I’ve seen plenty of women like that. She clearly thinks Mr. Aisas has a bright future and wants to seduce the boy. Once she’s pregnant, she’ll use it to force him into marriage!”
Mrs. Hudson had chased that detestable, loose-lipped man away with a rolling pin on the spot.
But seeing Nancy seek her out late at night, explicitly asking to speak ‘in private,’ her heart leaped into her throat. After all, the current social climate was highly conservative. No proper young woman would venture out alone at night and travel such a long distance unless some terrible, unexpected incident had occurred.
Nancy was a fine girl. If her nephew and Nancy had mutual affection, and he had gone out of his way to court her until they truly became lovers, Mrs. Hudson—as Young Mr. Aisas’s sole elder—wouldn’t have found it objectionable.
It would only prove that her nephew had excellent taste.
Nancy was capable and clever. Anyone who looked at her pitiful background and responded with snide remarks instead of sympathy was hardly a decent person.
But… but that brat Aisas wouldn’t be so irresponsible, would he?
Under Mrs. Hudson’s tense gaze, Nancy finally managed to begin.
“It’s… it’s about Mr. Aisas.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
The heavy stone had finally dropped.
Mrs. Hudson let out a breath. Her expression instantly shifted to one of profound understanding as she tried to comfort the girl. “Ah, there’s no need to worry, dear. I’ve known Young Mr. Aisas since he was a child. He can be a bit eccentric at times, but he has a very good heart.”
Nancy’s eyes widened in confusion. She stared blankly at Mrs. Hudson, entirely unsure how the conversation had veered off course.
Yes, of course, Mr. Aisas is a good person. A bit strange, sure, but fundamentally good… but what does that have to do with what I came to say?
With this in mind, she could only say, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Mrs. Hudson.”
Mrs. Hudson patted her arm and picked up the teapot, intending to pour the girl another cup. “It’s alright, my poor child. If the matter is… delicate, we don’t have to speak of it plainly.”
She added sternly, “You have no reason to feel ashamed. I will demand that Aisas take responsibility, otherwise it would be absolutely disgraceful. Rest assured, he will treat you well—”
Nancy finally realized what Mrs. Hudson was insinuating. Her cheeks burned bright red.
“No, no, Madam,” she sputtered, nearly dropping her teacup. “I’m not—he’s not—dammit1—”
In her sheer panic, the truth burst from her lips in pure desperation. “Mrs. Hudson, I’m here because Fagin is planning to rob Aisas on Saturday night! At the factory!”
The teapot slipped from Mrs. Hudson’s grasp and hit the carpet with a dull thud.
A heavy silence descended over the sitting room.
“And I’m not the lovely little parish girl you think I am,” Nancy said through gritted teeth. “I’m a thief, Madam. I used to be a thief, and I’m not much better now. I was raised by Fagin, the master crook of Little Saffron Hill, and I work for him. And… and whatever else people call me, most of it is true.”
Her voice grew quieter. Unable to meet Mrs. Hudson’s gaze, she stared at the tea-stained carpet. “I don’t deserve your kindness. But I can’t let them hurt Aisas, not after everything—”
She swallowed hard. “I just can’t.”
Hearing this dreadful revelation—which was entirely different from the scandalous romance she had imagined—Mrs. Hudson instinctively clamped both hands over her mouth.
Recovering her wits, she quickly leaned forward and grasped Nancy’s trembling hands.
“Oh, my dear,” she murmured. “You came here to warn us. That is not the act of a thief, but of a friend.”
Nancy let out a shaky breath.
“Fagin… Fagin made the children believe it was just a game,” she said. “But Sikes will hurt people, or worse.”
Mrs. Hudson wrapped her arms around Nancy’s shoulders, drawing her into a tight, reassuring hug and patting her back.
“Then we will stop them,” she declared. “Right this instant.”
She let go and stood up, nearly knocking over a plate on the table in her haste.
“…You aren’t angry?” Nancy asked, dumbfounded.
“Angry?” Mrs. Hudson marched into the kitchen and retrieved her rolling pin, emerging with a fearsome aura. “My dear, I am far beyond angry. I am positively furious. But not at you—at those villains who think they can trample all over good people.”
She brandished the rolling pin like a general waving a banner. “Now, let’s go wake up those useless geniuses upstairs!”
A sudden chill ran down the spines of the three people currently pressing their ears against the floorboards.
“A remarkable woman,” Holmes muttered. “It reminds me that I really ought to pay her more rent.”
Arna kicked him, then scrambled to her feet.
“Hurry up,” she urged. “They’re coming up!”
The three of them immediately sprang into a chaotic flurry of motion, straightening their clothes and covering their tracks.
But the door swung open before Holmes could even finish smoothing out his sleeves.
Mrs. Hudson stood in the doorway, rolling pin in hand, with a nervous Nancy lingering behind her, hesitant to enter.
Her eyes swept over the scene. Deducing exactly what they had been doing, she narrowed her eyes. “Well then. Which genius is going to solve this problem?”
Holmes opened his mouth.
“No,” Mrs. Hudson said immediately. With a wave of her rolling pin, she cut off the deduction he was about to launch into. “Not another word about any hidden treasure, or grand conspiracy, or whatever might be going through this poor girl’s mind. At least, not right now.”
She turned toward her nephew, her expression softening slightly. “Aisas, explain.”
Arna felt as though the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end. “I… um… well…”
Watson bravely stood up, attempting to put in a good word for Arna. “Mrs. Hudson, perhaps we could—”
Mrs. Hudson’s rolling pin snapped toward Watson like a schoolmaster’s ruler. “Sit.”
Watson sat down.
Nancy peered over Mrs. Hudson’s shoulder into the room, speaking nervously. “I think, I was just… I was trying to tell Mr. Aisas—I simply hadn’t found the right moment—”
“Oh, please, child. Aisas is no fool,” Mrs. Hudson said lightly. “Would any normal person leave a fortune in an unguarded factory safe instead of keeping it at home?”
As she spoke, she shot a glance at Arna. “Unless they already knew a thing or two about the situation.”
Arna rubbed her hands together nervously. “Or maybe I just have eccentric hobbies.”
She started spouting nonsense. “Like, for instance, putting gold in the factory might bring the factory good luck… or something…”
Her voice trailed off. Behind her back, her hand frantically signed to Holmes, signaling for help.
Holmes cleared his throat. “In fact, esteemed Mrs. Hudson, we already have a…”
Mrs. Hudson’s rolling pin struck the table with a loud thwack.
“Make a plan for what to do next,” she demanded. “Right now.”
Arna exchanged a look with the other two and swiftly yielded.
She truly didn’t dare confess in front of Mrs. Hudson that she had originally intended to beat them all up single-handedly. Instead, she quietly looked to Nancy. “How many people are coming in total?”
“What is their method of approach, and which route will they take?” Holmes asked.
“Will they be carrying firearms?” Watson added. “Or any other deadly weapons?”
Nancy blinked, stunned by the sudden shift in conversation.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face.
0 Comments