Now it looked positively bursting with Easter cheer. I slipped into my coat and let myself out the back door. It would be a long walk, but it seemed like a fitting penance, since I had helped get Will into trouble in the first place.
Even beautiful weather and penance did not alter Will's neighborhood. Once I entered the Seven Dials I became distinctly uneasy. The streets and alleys were narrow and filthy, and though there were people about, they weren't doing normal-people things, like shopping or visiting with one another. They just loitered in doorways wrapped in thin coats—or none at all—and looked out at the world with bleak, hopeless eyes. Even the air here seemed heavier, dirtier. Many of the pinched, drawn faces stared hungrily at my basket. I gripped the handle tighter, looked straight ahead, and picked up my pace.
I had never been to Will's house, but I remembered Ratsy calling out their address during Awi Bubu's magic show. I knew that Will's territory when he'd been a pickpocket was nearby, and I assumed that it would be close to where he lived. As I wandered deeper and deeper into this part of town, I realized that might have been a mistaken assumption.
I drew close to Nottingham Court, and my steps faltered when I saw the buildings—hovels, really. They were jumbled together and had no street numbers on them. How on earth was I to find Will now? As my heart sank in disappointment, I felt someone grab my elbow. I squealed and clutched the Easter basket with both hands then whirled around to see who was trying to steal it.
I came face to face with an enormous bowler hat perched on a pair of large pink ears. I let out a sigh of relief. "Snuffles!"
"'Ello, miss. Wotcha doin' 'ere?" As he spoke, his eyes fixed on the colorful contents of the basket and never wavered.
"I've come to visit you and your family and bring you an Easter treat. Is Will home?"
At this happy announcement, Snuffles grew quite enthusiastic. "Sure is, miss. Come on." He grabbed my elbow so I—and the basket—wouldn't get lost and led me to one of the large buildings. With long-practiced efficiency, he stepped between the small groups of people standing listlessly by the front door. Their sharp eyes zeroed in on us in a way that made me most uncomfortable. I quickly followed Snuffles into the building.
It was dank and damp and smelled of mildew and other much less pleasant things. People were camped out in the hallways. "This way, miss." Snuffles motioned for me to hurry along, which I did, following him up two flights of stairs. He led me past a series of small crooked doors until he came to the last one. He thumped once on the door, called out, "Company!" then opened it and went inside. I stood in the doorway, unsure.
I heard Will's voice. "'Oo's 'ere, Snuff?"
"Miss is. You know, the one you work wif."
Will left whatever he'd been doing and hurried to the door, looking fair flummoxed to see me. "Miss?"
Something—embarrassment?—flashed in his eyes. He gently but firmly herded me back into the hallway and closed the door behind us. He folded his arms and glowered at me, two faint spots of pink blooming on his cheeks. "Wot are you doin' 'ere?"
I cleared my throat. "Is it true that you got suspended?"
"Aye." His face relaxed a bit. "Because o' that fig-in-a-bush bloke."
"I-I'm sorry. I was certain once Wigmere heard what we had to tell him, he'd understand."
"'Tweren't your fault, miss. I didn't even get the chance to say a word. That nose Boythorpe walked me down the hallway and when I got to Wiggy's office, that figgenbush fellow was already there. Wiggy asked me if I 'ad a message from you for 'im. I told 'im, yes, and it was an important one. Then the greasy chap said, 'See what I mean, sir?'
"I turned to 'im and said, 'She couldn't very well give you the message, now could she, since you was 'ere instead of at the museum where you's supposed to be.'
"Then Wiggy said, 'Enough.' And suspended me. I asked if 'e didn't want to 'ear the important information first, and 'e said no. 'E'd wait until you reported it through the proper channels."
It sounded almost as if Fagenbush had set a trap and we'd walked right into it. "Oh dear. I'm so sorry. Here," I said, thrusting the apology basket at him.
He eyed it suspiciously. "We don't need no charity, miss."
"It's not charity, you dolt. It's an apology gift. People give them to each other all the time." And if they didn't, they should.
"Well, in that case, for the sake of yer conscience..."
"Absolutely. And I'm sure your brothers would enjoy it."
"Aye. That they would." He took the basket, his eyes growing wide as he saw all the goodies inside. Suddenly, I wished I'd packed real food instead of Easter treats. A roast chicken, and potatoes, a loaf of bread, and some butter and jam. Real food was what he and his brothers needed.
"I'll set things right, Will. I promise. I'll go see Wigmere as soon as I can and explain what happened. Once he sees the seriousness of all that's going on, he'll have no choice but to forgive us both."
"I 'ope so, miss, because me old gang's been on me like rats on rubbish to come back into the fold."
His old pickpocket gang, he meant. "Don't worry. We'll have you back working for Wigmere in no time," I said, hoping it was true.
"Course you will, miss. You'll come up wif somefink."
I was touched by his faith in me. So few others exhibited the same loyalty. "Thank you for believing in me," I said.
He looked fairly panicked, as if afraid I might get teary or something. "'Tain't nothin', miss. Besides, working with you is a lot more adventure than being a pickpocket."
That part was true, at least.
"In fact, miss, I been thinking." He looked around the hall to make sure no one else was listening, then inched closer. "I've decided, see, that I wants ter join the Brotherhood of them Chosen Kippers."
"Keepers," I corrected.
He drew back, looking affronted. "That's what I said. Any ways, I were asking Stokes about it one day when 'e was waiting ter get in ter see Wig. They make a lot more blunt than chimney sweeps and porters and even pickpockets. I figger if I can join up, then me mam won't 'ave to be a washerwoman till the day she up and drops dead. And me brothers? Mebbe some of them could even go to school."
"Aren't they supposed to go to school anyway?"
Will snorted. "Ain't no one checks up on 'em, miss. And we need what they can bring in just to keep a roof over our 'eads and our bellies full. But Stokes said most of 'em Kipper fellows had gone to school for a wicked long time. Them big fancy universities and the like."
"Oh, Will, how will you ever get to a university?" My heart was breaking. It was impossible for someone like him.
He looked surprisingly undaunted. "I can't, miss, but it don't matter."
"But then how will you join the Brotherhood?"
"I got somefink better than a university." He rocked back on his heels and beamed at me. "I got you."
"Me?"
"You! I figger you know more'n anyone about all the Egypshun stuff, and you can teach me."
I stared at him, speechless.
He must have taken it as a refusal, for he grabbed hold of my sleeve. "You gotter 'elp me, miss! If you can teach me about all the Egypshuns, then I can prove to Ol' Wiggy that I'm more'n just an errand boy."
As I stared into his big blue eyes, so eager and hopeful, I vowed that if he wanted a chance to prove himself to Wigmere, I would do everything in my power to help him. "Very well," I said. "I'll tutor you."