The Murder Pit

Root staggered past, his helmet crooked, and fell out the door.

As I supped my porter, a cockle shell hit me in the brow and dropped onto the floor; a laugh went up from the other side of the room where three butchers sat with a couple of women in aprons.

The guvnor went to the counter and ordered drinks for Godwin and his lover. He paid and came back to sit with me, while the landlady squeezed out from the counter and thumped a tankard and a mug on Godwin’s table. She pointed at us and burbled something to him.

‘I’ll buy my own drinks, Arrowood,’ called Godwin across the room, pouring the beer into an ash bucket on the floor. His lady didn’t want him to take the gin, but he got it off her and did the same. It was clear he’d had a few already.

Some of the punters turned to watch.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Mr Ockwell,’ said the guvnor. ‘I haven’t come to cause any trouble.’

‘You’re a bloody nuisance, you two,’ snarled Godwin. ‘You sent the parson to examine us. You accused us to the police. You’ve been asking questions in here. You found nothing against us and now here you are again dogging me. So how about you just finish your drinks and leave? There’s no one wants you in here.’

‘I wanted to apologize, that’s all, sir,’ said the guvnor. ‘Let me buy you and your friend a meal, how about that?’

‘Leave!’ cried Godwin, slamming his fist on the table. Everyone there, even the baby, was watching him now. ‘Go on. Hook it!’

We didn’t move. He glared at us for a moment, then hunched in towards the lady and they started to talk again. As they did, he glanced over at the other punters. His cap came off, his hand travelled over his bald head. The cap went back on again.

Soon the old men took up their dominoes. The grandma and her bloke turned back to the fire and stared at the flames, their heads drooping. The coalman said something to the butchers. They laughed. The talk got louder, the men vying with each other to be heard. The two women in aprons, their arms around each other, looked on with broad smiles. We watched it all for a while longer, the guvnor chewing his lip, thinking hard. Finally, he leant over.

‘Look at him,’ he whispered. ‘How he hides that lazy arm in his jacket. The two of them sit on their own while all the rest are enjoying each other’s company. See how he keeps looking over at them?’

He gazed across at Godwin again and thought on it. The lady had her hand on the farmer’s knee as she talked. Godwin nodded and drank steadily, a sour look on his face.

‘Doesn’t he seem alone, Barnett?’

‘He does, sir.’

He leant closer to me and whispered: ‘I want you to try and make love to his lady-friend. Go and talk sweet to her. Provoke him.’

‘How’s that going to help?’

Another cockle shell come through the air, bouncing off the guvnor’s mug. He ignored it.

‘He’s feeling humiliated. We’ve diminished him in front of all these people by not leaving when he told us. The only way he’ll talk is if we give him a chance to get back his pride. Act as if you’re cowed by him, then skulk back over here. Let him dominate you; put on a show of it.’

‘Could make things worse, sir.’

‘Just do it, Barnett.’

I drank my pint down in one go. As I did, Godwin got up and went to the counter with his tankard. I was straight over to his table, sliding up the bench next to the lady. She looked at me, her movements lazy. She was stewed, like everyone else in there.

‘Hello, sugar,’ I said.

She nodded and took a swallow of gin. The green scarf round her neck had fallen, showing the skin as rough and sooty. She smelled of pineapple.

‘Fancy getting a bit of fresh air?’ I said, putting my hand on hers. ‘Away from this lot?’

‘Leave off, will you?’ she said with a giggle. Her lips were painted a funny orange colour; a patch of red was on each cheek.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Lisa,’ she said, soft enough so Godwin wouldn’t hear.

‘You ever been up to the city, Lisa?’

‘A lady ain’t safe up there, mate. Not till they catch old Jack.’

I put my arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear, ‘I’d keep you safe, Lisa. You can take your davy on it.’

‘Oh yeah? Don’t think my fella’d like that.’

I leant in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

‘Here!’ she cried, pulling my arm off her shoulder and sliding away from me. I looked up to see Godwin standing over the table, a pint in one hand, the other hid inside his jacket.

‘Get out of it,’ he hissed.

‘We’re just talking, mate.’

‘Yeah? Well you can go fuck yourself, mate. I said get out of it! Now!’

‘All right.’ I stood up, holding my hands in the air and trying to look scared. ‘Steady on. No harm done.’

‘Hook it!’ he barked, getting braver the more afraid I acted.

As I tried to get past I nudged his arm, making some of his pint spill over his hand.

‘Watch it,’ growled Edgar, getting up from his stool.

Godwin put the tankard down, slipped his good hand inside his overcoat, and brought out a truncheon, its tip black with lead.

‘Hold on, mate,’ I said, backing away. ‘No need for—’

He belted me hard on my hand before I could finish. I cursed, the temper rising in me, and was about to swing at him when he took another shot, this time at my knee. I collapsed on the floor in the ash and the spilt beer, the pain running like a wave through my body. And just as my head hit the ground he landed his boot in my belly. A cheer rang out, drowning the groan as was forced out of me. I heaved; I couldn’t catch my breath.

‘Oi!’ cried the landlady. ‘That’s enough, Godwin Ockwell. You sit down.’

‘Give him another!’ barked Skulky.

The old fellows playing dominoes cackled.

I was gasping and choking, bent in two on the stinking floor, clutching my belly as the good folk of Catford laughed. Godwin’s dirty boots were no more than a foot from my face, and I feared I’d get one straight in the teeth next. I twisted away from him, trying to get up, wanting to wrench his dirty neck.

‘What in damnation were you doing, Barnett!’ cried the guvnor, only now stepping over to us. I tried to get to my feet, but my knee wasn’t having any of it. And as I hunched there on all fours like a dog, the guvnor struck me hard on the back with his stick.

‘That’ll teach you, you damn fool!’