Except the Dying

One of the women was Bernadette Weston. She was singing at top voice, head thrust back, mouth wide open. The brim of her hat had tilted under such strenuous efforts and settled at an angle across her right eyebrow, and a scrawny green feather bobbed and danced in time to the music. She noticed Quinn and winked at him but didn’t break rhythm for a moment.

He waved, then, tugging at the piece of twine attached to his dog’s collar, dived into the crowd, heading for one of the long plank tables by the far wall where he could see Alice was sitting. Princess tried to lap at some sticky mess on the floor but he pulled her away. Cuspidors were provided but few used them, and the freshly strewn sawdust was churned into clumps by the mixture of tobacco juice, melting snow and phlegm.

“Heads up!”

A sweating waiter in shirtsleeves, his leather apron stained and wet from splashes, squeezed by Quinn, his laden tray held high. The beer that was brewed at the John O’Neil tended to be sour and weak but it didn’t seem to matter. The customers came for the company, not the brew.

“Comin’ through. ’Cuse me.” Quinn used his elbows for emphasis and the bodies reluctantly yielded. He was known here, and a couple of the men slapped him on the shoulder. There were only a few women and one of them, jammed in the side bench, smiled and beckoned, but he moved on. His eyes were already smarting from the thick pall of smoke from innumerable pipes and cheap cigars.

Alice hadn’t seen him yet; she was intent on her companion, a man Quinn didn’t recognize. He was burly, clean-shaven with his hair cropped very short. There was a flattened appearance to his face that made Samuel think of prizefighters.

He slid in beside Alice on the bench, wrapped the twine around the leg of the table and pushed Princess underneath. She sniffed with interest at the other man’s boots.

“Oi, look what the cat dragged in,” said Alice. “Where’ve you been keepin’ yourself?”

“Busy working. Not like some as I know of.” He gave her a friendly poke in the ribs and she squealed. Her sense of humour was already enhanced by hot gin.

“You’re forgetting your manners, Alice. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“This here’s Jack,” she said, indicating the man beside her. “He’s just passing through. His name’s Jack and he’s a Jack Tar.”

“How’d you do,” said Samuel. He called to the beleaguered waiter. “What’ll you have?” he asked the other two. “It’s on me.”

“Oi, come into money, have you? Lucky for you. How’d that happen?”

“Never mind. Do you want a drink or not?”

“Another hot jackey’d go down nice,” she said.

The man nodded. “Same. Thanks.” His voice was husky and strained as if he had laryngitis.

Samuel gave the order to the waiter, taking a pint of beer for himself. He took a folded newspaper out of his pocket and put it on the table.

“Look at this, Alice. It’s concerning that young girl the police were asking us about yesterday–”

“I don’t want to hear one more word about that sodding mort. You’d think she was the Queen’s daughter, all the fuss that’s being made.”

“What’s the story? I don’t know nothing about it,” her companion said.

Alice sniffed. “You don’t want to. Bloody coppers, they’re always on at a girl. Ettie and me wasted all yesterday afternoon at the shicey station just because they thought we’d nimmed the girl’s clothes.”

She stayed her indignation while the waiter banged down two glasses of gin, a pitcher of hot water and a pint of ale. Then she added a couple of splashes of water to the gin and took a deep gulp. “As if we’d do anything like that. What do they take us for? Couldn’t prove nothing, we was asleep–”

“If you’ll rein in a minute, Alice, I’ll tell you what it says in here,” said Quinn. “They’re offering a reward for information.”

He sipped at his beer, wiped the foam from his moustache and prepared to read. At that moment an arm reached over his shoulder.

“Give us a swallow, will you, Sam. I’m fair parched.”

Bernadette didn’t wait for his answer but seized the glass and drank some beer.

“He’s buying tonight, Ettie,” said Alice. “Why don’t you order one?”

“Won’t say no.”