“True! I do not even hold a needle so much as you must use your pen. Very well, I shall talk with you and ask you questions, and I shall undertake to write to our mother for both of us. I may tell her you are well?”
“Tolerably, I thank you.”
“And that you abstain from vice?”
“Do you mean, do I stay away from cards, tobacco, women and excessive drink? I cannot afford any of those vices. But I do not smoke by choice, because even if I had the money, I loathe the habit. The air in our house, you may recall, always stank of father’s pipe. I used to lay on the floor to read my schoolwork, to stay beneath the cloud of it.”
“So...” said Fanny, overlooking the disrespectful words about their father, for they could not be contradicted, “how do you pass your leisure hours?”
“I am taking wrestling lessons, twice a week, to build up my strength. William and Sam, they are broad shouldered, burly fellows, but I cannot seem to put on any flesh. I look like what I am—a clerk, capable of lifting nothing heavier than a ream of paper.”
“Are you attending divine services regularly?”
“Oh yes, I am quite regular.” The young man laughed and sipped his ale, confident that his innocent sister would not understand ‘regular’ to mean ‘regularly, twice a year.’
“How about your lodgings, John, are they adequate? Comfortable?”
“Do not scold me for being extravagant, but I rented a private room, so that I might be alone at the end of the day—it is in the cheapest boarding house I could find.”
“I know what you mean, John, a little solitude is necessary to refresh the spirit. And do you associate with good company?”
“Oh, certainly. Mostly clerks like myself. Earls and Duchesses, unaccountably, are not returning my morning calls, though I leave them my card most assiduously.”
“You are laughing at me, brother. I want only to draw a portrait of you. Working in a public office—I fear that such employment has a tendency to coarsen those who are engaged in it.”
This drew a broad grin from John, for his sweet, sheltered sister had no conception of exactly how coarse a young man, especially one living in Wapping, could be. However, John was being truthful about his lack of vices—the common pursuits of most young men held no interest for him. Gaming he held in contempt; he disliked excessive drink because it clouded the mind. The fair sex was something of a terra incognita for him. He called very few by the appellation ‘friend.’ He and some of his fellow clerks would spend their Sunday afternoons at a coffeehouse, purchasing one dish of coffee and leaving it untasted on the table between them, so they might play a game of chess or peruse and discuss the journals and newspapers—that is, until the proprietor demanded they leave. Or they would stroll along the river to the Tower of London, to commune with the shades of the prisoners once consigned to its dungeons, and debate the likelihood that there ever really had been a dragon for St. George to slay.
“My work is simply tedious, Fanny. I am an automaton. I am a collecting clerk. I note down all the imports that are unloaded—quantities of sugar and tea and so forth—in long columns and add them all up, and get it all signed and counter-signed.”
“But, as you explained to me, the officers oversee the loading and unloading of the ships, and therefore, what you do prevents crime. So you can take pride in that, can you not?”
John nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harriott says that our office is unique, a preventative police office. He says that our office saves the merchants of London thousands of pounds. But all of that prevention does not prevent my work from being tedious. I want to witness more vice and depravity, Fanny. It would be interesting. I want to be a judicial clerk; they are the ones who record the criminal cases brought to the magistrates—but there are only two judicial clerks in our office. Of course, Mr. Laing, the head clerk, is quite ancient—he must be nearly fifty years old—so, perhaps I will get my chance in a few years.”
“Well, I can’t deny that crime would be more interesting than sugar,” Fanny conceded. The subject of sugar reminded her of slavery, and she rummaged in her small portmanteau.
“Oh John! Here is my copy of Amongst the Slavers. You may borrow it.”
When she held out the volume, Fanny had the gratification of seeing her brother’s eyes light up with interest.
“Thank you, Fan! This is the book that mentions our brother, does it not?”
“Yes, you can read all about William’s exploits in it. John, I want to introduce you to my—to the author, Mr. Gibson. He and our brother William are quite good friends, you know. And I fancy you should find Mr. Gibson a very interesting fellow.”
“And he will find me likewise, no doubt. Perhaps he will put me in his next book.”
The thought of increasing Mr. Gibson’s ties to the Price family was singularly pleasing to Fanny, and served to give her cheerful reflections for her journey back to Stoke Newington.
Chapter Four
The crisis brought about by the King’s descent into insanity kept both Houses of Parliament at their duties well into the summer months. The Crown Prince was appointed as Regent until it pleased God to restore His Majesty to health. Lord Delingpole and his fellow Tories continued the war against Napoleon in an uneasy partnership with a prince they could neither trust nor respect, as his political sympathies were with the Whigs, and his private vices were notorious. Unable to make the longer journey to his estate in Wales, Lord Delingpole
