Murder in Grub Street by Bruce Alexander

stutter out my thanks and started to give assurances of loyalty and my desire to please him in every way. Yet in the dimness of that room, I saw him raise his hand and wave me to silence.
    “Consider my invitation and your acceptance as a bond between us. There are no conditions and no period of trial. You are from this day forth a permanent member of my household. You will continue to help Mrs. Gredge. She has grown older of a sudden and needs aid in all manner of ways. At her best she can be difficult. Continue to show forbearance with her. There will also be duties you will perform for me. I have no idea what they will be. They will vary from day to day, perhaps from moment to moment. I invite you to ask questions of me, even challenge me privately when you feel I am seriously in the wrong. Though you are ignorant of much in the way of the world, you have a good mind. I want you to use it.”
    Having said all this, he lapsed into a silence so long that I thought he might have drifted off to sleep where he sat. But then, as I rose quietly from my chair, he spoke up again: “We must get you some new clothes. Mrs. Gredge tells me those you wear have grown shabby.”

Chapter Three
In which I take my place in
Sir John’s household and
rescue a lady in distress
    The days passed. Spring had blossomed forth in its full glory — even in London, in which flowers bloom in dirt patches and back gardens, and the trees leaf forth for the most part only in those parks and lanes which are habituated by the gentry. It was spring everywhere. I felt it in my life. It was though it had begun again. Imagine, reader, a boy such as myself — orphaned, virtually penniless, come to London bare of expectations with only his hopes to buoy him — such a boy thrust before a magistrate, falsely accused, rescued by the keen judgement of that great magistrate and now installed as a member of his household! For the first time in weeks I felt that I had a future. Though I could not foresee what precisely it might be, the rest of my life seemed now to open up before me like some great adventure on which I ws now about to begin.
    In truth, however, life continued for me at Number 4 Bow Street about as I had known it in the past few weeks. I ran errands at the bidding of Sir John, for the most part of an inconsequential nature. Mrs. Gredge continued to avail herself of my talents as a “good scrubber”, and more and more she made use of me to do her buying at the greengrocers and butchers of Covent Garden nearby. I was, in fact, on just such an expedition when a chance meeting occurred that foreshadowed another, more momentous one day later.
    Where but at the butcher stall of Mr. Tolliver, to which I was introduced to Katherine Durham, should I happen to spy her? I had met the good Widow Durham through Sir John, who had seen her son into the Navy; grateful was she for that and continually inquired after him at our meetings while buying in Covent Garden. She was then engaged in pleasant conversation with the proprietor himself, having made a purchase, and seemed about to leave. I held back, not wishing to interrupt; then she made to go and in turn spied me.
    “Jeremy!” cried she. “How well met! I had only moments past heard from Mr. Tolliver that you have become his regular customer. How long has it been since I brought you here?”
    “Oh,” said I, “three weeks — a month, perhaps. Much has happened since then.”
    “I note that for one you’ve acquired a new coat — and that shirt also appears to be new. You look most handsome.”
    I swelled a bit at her praise even as I thanked her. “I’ve been given a few new things by Sir John, as befits my new state, Mrs. Durham.”
    “And what is that, Jeremy?”
    “He has accepted me as a member of his household.” I meant to make it sound solemn and important, for such it was to me, yet it so excited me to announce it to one outside my immediate ken that I fair blurted it out.
    “How