undergrounds | Hard knocks

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Hard knocks

It's official. She's failed out of uni. Lydia Bennet, the thick sister of the bunch. The useless one. The disappointment.

Well, her mum won't be disappointed, once Lydia tells her about Cesare. She will quite understand that Lydia spent the time she should have been studying for her exams in Cesare's hotel making him happy. When Lydia tells her. Right now, Lydia doesn't dare: her mum is the biggest gossip and it will take two minutes for word of her and Cesare will be everywhere.

Lydia heads for her favourite haunt, a cosy Starbucks close by. She fancies an extra large double shotted caramel macchiato. What she actually gets is a small tea. Because she's broke. She's failed and she's broke.

Why is life so hard?

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So he did remember her! Ha!

Lydia shrugs. "How would you know what my usual is?" But she stops and sniffs. "But you're right. Everything's gone wrong, horribly, horribly wrong."

Only vaguely. He tried to make note of who Nance's were.

"Just guessin, ain't I?" That took a step back. "Can't be as bad as all that. Got yer health, right?"

"Have you seen this?" With her free hand, she points to a spot on her cin. She's smothered it in makeup, but it's definitely there.

"I mean, look at it. It's huge." Cesare won't fancy her with a spot the size of Europe on her face.

She heads for a comfy chair with a low table.
"Well, come on then."

He sort of notices it, but just gives a shrug. He frowns again when she speaks.

"You ... actually want the company of, what was it you called me again?"

"Well, I've got nothing better to do." Lydia sniffs again. She curls into a sagging leather arm chair. God, what has her life become, associating with boys like this? Cesare would have a fit!

"...Is that meant to make a bloke feel special?" He sits though, because... Well because he feels like having a seat. Does he need a complicated reason to do everything? Hope not.

"Does it matter?' Lydia says irritably. "Oh, but I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You can't help me!" Her fingers curl around her mug as she brings it to her lips to sip the hot liquid.

"Hang on, how do you know I can't help?" The Dodger takes offense. "I know a lot of stuff, an' a lot of people." There's a look as if to admonish Lydia but it would probably look better coming from someone who wasn't younger than her.

"Because you're..." She gestures at Dodger, silently meaning his untidy appearance.
"Oh, you know what I mean," she adds, as she realises she might have been just a little bit offensive then. "You don't have two pennies to rub together. How are you going to help me make money?"

He just stares. Oh, this one's easy.

"I could tell you some ways. Appearance ain't everything."

"You know how to make money?" Lydia asks incredulously. "Then why are you dressed like a tramp? It's not at all fashionable, you know."
She glances down at her own Laboutin pumps: they're patent black with ridiculously high heels and an obnoxiously red sole to them. They absolutely kill to walk in, but Cesare said she looked ridiculously delightful in them, and Lydia knows, that should she happen to bump into them, he'll love that she wore them, just to please him."

The Dodger just stares, incredulous. There's a moment where his mouth opens and then closes and a harder stare follows it. He may be planning to do something about to those pumps she's so proud of

"Do you ... actually listen to what comes out of that mouth of yours?"

"What are you talking about?" Lydia sips her tea again, slightly puzzled by Dodger's reaction. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

He looks at her, weighing up the options. Nancy would kill him, but she ain't even speaking to him anyway so that's a non-issue. And to be fair, it's not exactly advice he'd usually feel good about giving people, it's more the type Fagin would give out. On the other hand, this girl insulted him. And ... maybe needs taken down a peg or two.

"Simple," he shrugged, "sell yer blood to hungry vamps. They pay good an' you control supply."

"Sell my -" At first, Lydia is shocked - horrified even. She sits just looking at Dodger, open mouthed. It's disgusting. It's heinous. It's - it's.... it's pure genius.

She tries not to let on to Dodger, though. "Who would buy it? She asks cooly, though inside, she's bubbling with excitement. Could she really sell her blood? Could she?

There's a slight shrug of his shoulders, as he leans forward to grab a packet of sugar from the table. He shakes the packet, opens it, and downs the contents in one go.

"Lots of vamps wantin' if you just look." There's a pause and since things can't get any worse in his life. "Nance did it, fer a bit."

"Did she?" Lydia's left reeling. She can't imagine Nancy as anything but the successful, together young woman that she is now.

"I can't believe it..." she says, thoughtfully. She rests her lips against the rim of her mug.
"It can't be that bad then, if Nancy did it, can it?"

He shrugs again, digging the last of the sugar out of the packet with his finger.

"She always got good pay."

"How much did she charge?" Lydia licks her lips. She doesn't know why, but she suddenly feels very nervous and perhaps even a little bit excited deep down in her belly.

"I wonder why she's never told me?"

"Depended on how much they wanted. Reckon you could get about 50 a litre, but never let more than 4 go in a night without resti'." He's talking out of his arse here, and he knows it.

"Nance don't like lettin' people know how she makes her money. Reckons work is work and you don't talk work outside of it."

Well, this is dangerous. Lydia doesn't have a clue.

" Two hundred pounds a night?" Her eyes beginto sparkle. "Oh my gosh, I'm going to be rich!"
She very nearly reaches out to hug Dodger, but stops herself in the nick of time.
"Dodger, will you help me?"

He leans back in his chair and just smirks.

"An' I thought you didn't mix wiv my kind." He means those on the other side of the poverty line, but the way he says it... Do you know who he runs with, Lydia?

"You know what you're doing." Lydia pouts.
"And I..."
She puts the tea down on the table and folds her arms, scowling.
"Look, I'll pay you a bit. Just till I know what I'm doing."

"25% of whatever you earn."

Can't say he's not quick.

"What?" She scowls. "That's a lot."

But she needs him.

Lydia scowls.

"Fine." She sticks her hand out. "Deal."

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knowntohisfriends - 2017-07-28 22:02 (UTC) - Expand

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