The Medium

Outside, swollen gray clouds plunged the street into further shadowy darkness. Women pulled in washing strung up between buildings and one or two men carried umbrellas, although most didn't. It wasn't the sort of area where the people could afford them. I wished I'd brought mine with me or George had. As it was, we'd likely be drenched before we reached my house.

"Stay close to me," George said. He still held my elbow but his touch had gone from soothing to hard, his thumb digging into my flesh. "And hold on tight to your reticule. We don't want to tempt any thieves."

I did as he suggested and kept my wits about me as I told him all I'd learned from Blunt. He seemed surprised at the mention of Leviticus Price.

"I don't know him well," he hedged, "but...are you sure it was him Blunt mentioned?"

"Leviticus Price is not the sort of name to mishear.

Why?"

"It's just that he's-how can I put this?-not someone I thought would take an interest in a school for the poor." He shook his head. "Perhaps I'm doing him an injustice and there's another side to him than what I've seen at Society meetings."

"Blunt did say Price is generous with his advice."

"Well Price does like to give advice away in droves and he's not short of it either."

A small boy scampered past me, very close, but George pulled me aside before we could collide. "Pickpocket," he mumbled.

"We don't know that for sure."

"It's a common ploy used by children of crime."

"What ploy?"

"Bump into their target and in the ensuing confusion, delve into their pockets. But you're safe, he didn't touch you."

"Who didn't touch you?" Jacob asked, popping up beside me and quickly falling into step with us.

"Hello, Jacob," I said for George's benefit. "No one bumped me."

"Then why's he holding you?"

George wasn't holding me, just my elbow but I didn't think Jacob would appreciate the difference. He seemed annoyed at poor George for some reason.

George was oblivious of course. "Good afternoon, Beaufort," he said, deepening his voice in that self-conscious way that some men do when speaking to other men. "Were you with Emily in there?"

"He was," I said, extricating my elbow from his grip.

His lips formed a pout. "Oh. Right." He cleared his throat. "Good show with Blunt in there, both of you. He didn't suspect a thing."

We turned into a busier street that was no less grubby but far more crowded. There were more ragged children playing in the gutters, more washing hanging over our heads and more hawkers selling goods from carts or baskets. A man dressed in a tall hat and a jacket too large for his slight frame tried to interest George in a meat pudding from his cart but George waved him away without addressing him.