The Potato Factory (19 page)

Hannah cleared her throat, averted her eyes and spoke in a small, almost girlish voice. 'We could probably leave a little bequest, a little summink to remember us by, a little personal summink what we could leave to yer discretion to use for whatsoever good you might consider in yer wisdom can be done for Mother England?' She paused and looked furtively up at the policeman. 'If you knows what I mean, sir?'

The cigar fell from Sir Jasper's lips, 'Good God, woman! Are you attempting to bri- '

At this point Sir Jasper leapt from his chair with a terrible yowl, upsetting the table and sending his top hat flying across the room as he frantically beat at the front of his trousers. The cigar, nowhere to be seen, must have fallen through his waistcoat and down into the interior of his trousers, for Sir Jasper continued to beat at his crotch, while turning in small agitated circles, his legs pumping up and down as though dancing on the spot. Then his foot caught the leg of the upturned table and, losing his balance, he landed in Hannah's voluminous lap. His head fell upon her breast and his now panicked nose was inches from her own. But for the fact of the room being so small, and that the back of her chair was placed almost against the wall, Hannah, together with Sir Jasper, would have turned topsy-turvy, landing on the floor in a heap of kicking legs, petticoats, pantaloons and flailing arms.

Hannah was the quicker of the two to recover. She looked down at the hapless Sir Jasper, who was flapping, whimpering and snorting, and observed the smoke rising from that area of his trousers which is known to be most delicate when assaulted. With one arm she pinned him to her breast and with her free hand hastily undid the last two buttons of his waistcoat, shot into the front of his trousers, and plucked the offending cigar from within.

Hannah's shameless sense of humour overcame her as she held up the still smouldering cigar. 'There were two of them little devils down there, sir. I chose the bigger one!' she cackled. Then, the gravity of the situation reasserted itself and she released him, and clamped her hand over her mouth to smother any possibility of a further outburst.

If Sir Jasper was conscious of this coarse attempt at humour he gave no sign of it. As though caught within a collapsed tent he was struggling wildly to find his way out of the folds of Hannah's commodious skirts. He regained his feet finally and, clutching his singed and painful scrotum in both hands, he roared at Hannah, 'You have not heard the last of this, madam! By God! I shall see you and your husband hanged at Tyburn yet!'

He removed a hand from his crotch and grabbed the cigar from Hannah, throwing it to the floor and stamping on it several times until it became a soggy, pulpy mess. Removing his hands he glanced down upon his recently violated area and observed a hole in the light coloured material not larger than a sixpenny bit, but in a strategically awkward area. Again clasping both his hands over it he backed away from Hannah.

'Damnation and blast! I have an appointment at four of the clock and cannot first go home!' Sir Jasper cried.

'Why, sir, it is not much of a mend,' Hannah remarked calmly, 'an 'ole no larger than the tip o' me tongue, and what might come about if a gentleman could 'ave took forty winks in his club chair with 'is pipe or cigar in 'is mouth. You must let me attend to it at once - I am a clever seamstress who will soon repair it invisible.'

'Keep your filthy harlot's hands off me!' Sir Jasper said fearfully, backing still further away from Hannah, so that he now stood in the corner with his back against the wall like some miscreant schoolboy who has failed at spelling.

'Tut, tut!' Hannah clucked. She was accustomed to crisis and mostly took immediate possession of the situation. 'Come now, sir, it ain't that bad!' She rose from her chair. 'See I shall move yer chair and sit upon it and you shall stand behind me back, remove yer trousers and pass 'em to me across me shoulder. I 'ave needle and thread with me and I am trained as a seamstress.' She smiled brightly, acting quite unconcerned and natural in her manner.

Sir Jasper looked at Hannah suspiciously, then he turned slightly away and uncupped his hands briefly to observe the damage once again. 'Very well, madam,' he said, the sulkiness still contained in his voice, 'but this service rendered does not alter your predicament! Attempting to fee an officer of the law is a very serious offence!'

Hannah chose, for the moment, to ignore this remark. A man without his breeches, she reasoned, is much more amenable to compromise. She rose and placed the table upright, then crossed to his chair and turned it so that when seated her back was towards him. She sat down and arranged her skirts.

'Come now, sir, it is to mendin' we must now pay our attention.' She waited with her hand placed on her shoulder ready to receive the recently damaged garment.

Sir Jasper found it impossible to be in opposition to Hannah's calmly stated demands. His imagination took flight and he was once again a small boy intimidated by his nanny. Standing with only a woollen vest above his waist as she chided him for some small misdemeanour, running her hands down his thighs and massaging his buttocks as she threatened him with the back of her hairbrush, then kissing and fondling his tiny waterworks, which, now in its adult proportion, was growing at a quite alarming rate.

Sir Jasper, quite breathless, seated himself upon Hannah's recently vacated chair and hurriedly removed his boots and then his trousers, releasing his engine with a spring as the restraining cloth passed beyond it. Whereupon he replaced his high-heeled boots upon his feet.

'Quickly! We must 'urry to mendin', or you'll catch yer death,' Hannah said solicitously, her fingers fluttering impatiently upon her shoulder.

She had already prepared the needle and thread from her bag. Now she took the trousers from Sir Jasper, and quickly turning them inside out blew the cigar ash from the surface of the cloth, and commenced to work upon the hole, gathering its edges together and stitching it in the manner of a sutured wound, this being much the quickest and neatest way under the prevailing circumstances.

From the corner of her eye she now observed that Sir Jasper had come to stand close to her shoulder and was breathing heavily. She turned slightly towards him and was confronted by his stiffened prod almost touching the edge of her bonnet.

'Well, well, what 'ave we 'ere?' Hannah's vast experience of men made her summation almost instinctive. 'A little boy what's 'urt 'imself? A little boy who wants nanny to kiss 'im better?'

'Yes, yes, please, nanny, it hurts a lot, please can you kiss it better!' Sir Jasper gasped urgently, his voice a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Hannah laid down her needlework, took the pins from her best bonnet and removed it, placing it on the table, whereupon she unpinned her hair and shook her head, so that her hair fell to her shoulders in a cascade of brilliant titian-coloured curls. Her movements were deliberate and calculated to excite him even more. Then, with Sir Jasper wincing and groaning at her shoulder, she took his manly pride between her thumb and forefinger. Moving her head closer, she ran the point of her clever tongue around the underside of its purpled cap at the point where it joined the manly thrusting stem.

'Ooh! Oooh! Oh, God! Oooh!' Sir Jasper moaned.

Then she withdrew her tongue. 'We'll not be 'earing any more of bribery charges, will we now, ya naughty boy?' Hannah cooed.

'No, nanny! I promise! Please, please, I beg of you, suck upon me! Oooh!'

Hannah smiled and licked her lips, and took him once again and brought him to the ultimate point before she withdrew her tongue again. 'And no more of 'anging?'

'Oh, Jesus! No! No more of hanging!' Sir Jasper whimpered. 'I beseech yoooou!'

'Swear it as an English gentleman, upon the 'ead o' the King 'imself!' Her tongue flicked out and licked invitingly at her lips then, darting further, playing mischievously with the tip of her nose.

'I swear as a gentleman, upon His Majesty's head,' Sir Jasper gasped. 'Please, nanny, do me! Do me now, I beg of you. I cannot bear it a moment longer, suck me dry, ooooh!'

Whereupon Hannah took Sir Jasper into her mouth and, with the help of her lascivious tongue, proceeded to satisfy him beyond his wildest fantasies. Completely exhausted, he reeled back and collapsed, gasping and panting. Half sprawled upon the chair, his pot belly was an incongruous helmet placed upon his otherwise skinny frame, his naked, hairless legs, encased at their ends with high-heeled boots. Hannah noted with satisfaction that his nose, now flat and pale as a badly risen scone, cowered against his florid, sweating face.

'Yer trousers,' Hannah said, rising and covering his nakedness by placing the garment across Sir Jasper's lap. 'I apologise most 'umbly,' she said, grinning wickedly, 'I made much too light of yer other cigar, it is a most worthy smoke, sir!'

Sir Jasper looked up at Hannah and gave her a small smile, his tiny obsidian eyes expressing a much becalmed disposition.

'If we are to be
friends,
m'dear,' he panted, 'it is best that I state the terms right off.' He sat up, clutching his trousers to his crotch, attempting to sound businesslike in his manner. 'I can do nothing for your husband other than attempt to forestall his march to the gallows. We can enter a plea that no long-tailed notes were found in his possession, only those of five pound value, though these are of exceptional quality and most numerous. The judge may, with a little persuasion, come eventually to see that transportation rather than hanging is in order.'

Sir Jasper grunted, and bent down to remove his boots. Arising, he proceeded without shame to reap-point his trousers to his skinny frame, and then, seated once more, returned his boots to his small stockinged feet.

'We shall, of course, need your co-operation in the matter of the counterfeit fivers,' he said, looking up at Hannah for her confirmation.

'An' me?' Hannah asked. 'What's to 'appen to me?'

Sir Jasper rose from the chair and stood once more trousered and confident. His recent intimacy and claims of friendship seemingly quite forgotten, and with his thumbs hooked into the lapels of his cutaway coat, he declared, 'Ah, yes, the sewing woman! We must reward the sewing woman.'

He glanced down at his front, admiring the tiny, almost invisible finger pluck seam where the cigar hole had previously been.

'A capital job, m'dear, and most skilfully completed!'

He glanced slyly at Hannah, so that his double meaning would not be lost to her.

'Yer most welcome, I'm sure, sir,' Hannah said, returning his knowing look. 'Yer always welcome to me 'umble mouth!'

Sir Jasper pulled himself up to his full height, which was by no means impressive. 'Mrs Solomons, I must remind you, each of us has our place and you would do well to remember yours! Let me be quite clear, we shall have no blackmail here, do you hear?'

Hannah had half expected his return to pomposity, for she was well aware that the masculine mind is directed largely from below the waist, and that there is nothing so restoring to the male ego as the return of his trousers. Even so, she was not of a mind to apologise. She knew enough of these matters to be certain that the priggish policeman would be back for more in due course. The next time she would tempt him further with a good spanking. The back of the hairbrush on his noble little botty. Hannah felt confident that her relationship with the Upper Marshal was far from over.

Hannah answered sweetly, 'Blackmail, sir? I can't rightly say that I knows what ya is talkin' about.' Then abruptly changing the subject Hannah looked ingenuously at Sir Jasper. 'Ya ain't answered me question sir. What shall become of our 'umble family? If me 'usband should be transported, 'ow shall we live?' She lowered her voice and its tearful character returned. 'With 'im gorn yer condemning us to the work'ouse!'

'Why, Mrs Solomons, you are by all accounts a resourceful woman. I feel sure your, er ... dockside establishments bring you a handsome return?'

Hannah feigned surprise. 'I'm sure I don't knows what ya mean, sir. If what ya said was goin' on, but what I said wasn't, but could be, that is, if a person was forced into supportin' 'er four starving kids without an 'usband, if such establishments were to 'appen to be about to ... open?'

'Yes, well, I dare say if you are prepared to co-operate fully, the bank isn't too interested in your, er ...
other
businesses.'

Hannah sniffed, reaching into her handbag for a dainty handkerchief and touching it to each eye in what she supposed was a genteel gesture, she looked imploringly up at Sir Jasper. 'Am I so bold as to believe, sir, that ya would turn the self-same blind eye to the establishment what is at me poor 'usband's 'ouse in Bell Alley?'

'The printing shop or the brothel?'

'No, sir, not the printin', definitely not the printin'. Me, what can't read nor write 'as no use for a printin' shop.'

'Ah! You are sprung, madam!' Sir Jasper laughed. 'So you
do
know Egyptian Mary? You wish to continue your husband's partnership? Two sows in the same trough, eh?' Sir Jasper chuckled at his own joke. 'Well, well, well, well! I would be surprised if Egyptian Mary would countenance such an arrangement, she is a woman of some pepper. Still, I guess you would know, eh?'

'No, sir, I does
not!'
Hannah snorted. 'Ya quite mistake me meanin'. I want me 'usband's so
called
partner arrested! It were
'er
what turned 'im to queer screenin' and printin' unlawful paper, if such a thing 'as been done by 'im! It ain't fair if she goes free! That's a blatant miscarriage o' justice, that is!'