Cruel and Unusual - serialised novel EXCLUSIVE to Steemit Part 3

For my second novel, I had a little more confidence in my skills as a writer. I'd got good reviews and a lot of wonderful feedback from people who had read my first book.

Perhaps because of that confidence, I allowed my imagination to run riot and maybe it went a little too far. I realised I could no longer 'wing it' because the subject matter was well-documented and so I had to do research - a LOT of research.

I found documentation on the London Zoological Society, the 'street patter' or slang common among thugs, thieves and ne'er-do-wells and I worked all the new-found knowledge into my book.

Reading it again, I do believe that research, all those hours of reading, taking notes, poring over documents, were worth the effort.

I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am, on my second, third - probably ninth time around (maybe more).

Exclusive for Steemit - serialisation of Cruel and Unusual – my second novel

Episode 1 Here

Episode 2 Here

David and Jack strolled through the gardens and then up onto terraces above the lion’s quarters to view the vista.

“We shall go and see as much as we can, Jack, for in a short while it will be feeding time for the lions and I would think that would interest you a great deal and we shall need to be early to ensure a good vantage point.”

They made their way down through the gardens for an hour or so. Jack took a ride upon the elephant’s back and looked terrified but delighted at the same time. Uncle David said that he did not care to ride upon its back but walked along side, watching Jack.

A little while before the scheduled feeding time, David and Jack went back to the lions' cages and chose a good place to watch from, for Uncle David knew the exact place where the lions were fed.

People were already amassing for the forthcoming spectacle, but David and Jack were fortunate enough to get the exact place that they wanted. Even though it was Sunday and only open to Fellows of the Zoological Society and their guests, there was still a large crowd.

The sign warning to “Beware of Pick-Pockets” proved how popular the lions' feeding time was.

They waited with as much patience as Jack could muster as the crowd swelled. Their place at the front of the broad barrier - which separated the visitors from the cages and so prevented the lions being teased - was a sought-after vantage point and the space around them shrank.

Jack was being pushed a little too much and so Uncle David pulled him in front of himself so as to protect him from the crush.

As they watched the massive lions pounce upon the raw, bloody carcasses, Jack was half aware that his uncle’s hand was no longer resting on his right shoulder, where it had been a reassuring connection to his guardian. He heard his uncle whisper, “Keep the line,” and felt him tense just a little, but did not wish to miss a second of the spectacle before him.

It was only after the lions had finished devouring the meat or had dragged off their prize, that Jack looked around and up into his protector’s face. Uncle David wore a very different expression to any that Jack had ever seen. The boy was well aware that his uncle’s eyes were very capable of being scary (but never to him) but now, Jack saw that they could be truly terrifying too.

The marbled grey eyes were cold and very fierce, they were narrowed almost to slits and Jack was pleased that they were not directed towards him.

Jack’s mouth and eyes opened wide in surprise and he was about to ask what was wrong, but Uncle David, only glancing sideways at Jack for the fleetest instant, put his left index finger to his lips and Jack was silent.

A strange man, dressed in similar fashion to David - although not quite as impeccable - stood next to Uncle David, his face was twisted in pain, but he too was quiet.

Ignoring the man next to him, Uncle David directed a stage whisper to Jack. “Here’s a lesson, Jack. Watch now.” Then his accent changed and his voice became a little louder, and with more of a coarse quality. “This ‘ere dinger an’ ‘is Adam were all set an’ anointed wi’ me as a plant.” Then he took his eyes off Jack’s astonished stare and snarled at the man next to him “Werncha?”

“I dunno what you mean sir.”

“So when I let go of your hand here,” he said, dropping back into his usual eloquence whilst lifting the squirming man's hand in an awkward and painful way - if the man’s contorted face was anything to go by - “You’ll not have been drawing a thimble will you? So that won’t be my watch in your mawley. Having a nibble at my expense are you? Well, as you’ve just heard. I’m no stranger to your canting. I tip the nod at more than one Arch rogue. Now, here’s the grunt, I’m what’s known as a right Tarter and you’ve been touting me for the past hour or more, but if you’d rather be at the business end of my Bilboa here,” he nodded to his cane and allowed the wooden shaft to slip forward and show the sharp steel concealed within. “You’ll keep trying to gammon me. Otherwise, you’ll keep your flippers to yourself, because next time you try it with me, if you’re lucky, your better half will be a hempen widow.” His voice dropped lower as he said: “If you’re not so lucky and catch me when I’ve got my monkey up, I’ll hand you to the Resurrection men - afore you’re ready!”

In the face of all the street slang emanating from what he had taken to be a cove ripe for the bilk and accompanied by the sinister threat, the thief decided to continue playing it calm.

“I must apologise to you and the young gentleman here sir. I’ll take your leave and be off if you’ve a mind to let go me ‘and. It wouldn’t do for your son to be worried by any violence, would it? I’ll be away now, with your kind permission an’ I’ll make sure ‘Adam’ knows too, but let go me fishhooks, you’re breakin’ ‘em off!”

David let go and the pickpocket dropped the watch back into the pocket he was lifting it from, tipped his hat and walked away at a fast pace, clutching his hand. As he joined up with his accomplice, David could hear their conversation.

“’e was flashing ‘is gab. I wouldn’t ‘ave took ‘im for a Spicer ‘imself, but ‘e knew we’d been toutin’ ‘im.”

“A Dandy like that ‘ud probably be a High Toby not a Spicer.”

“Whatever ‘e is, ‘e’s broke two of me fishhooks the bastard!”

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