Charles lowered his bowl of coffee in surprise. ‘Indeed?’ He smiled at me. ‘What does he say?’
Moll poured herself a glass of punch. ‘He says, “Thank God Charles isn’t here to see me doing this.”’ She raised her glass, chinking it with mine.
The coffeehouse was full tonight and boisterous with it. As it was every night. ‘Fights, fucking and fine coffee’ – that’s how Moll described it, like a proud merchant listing his wares. What happened in the darkest corners of most coffeehouses was on full display here: plots hatched, purses snatched and breeches unbuttoned. God knows what happened in the dark corners at Moll’s – what was left? In a little while the men would stagger home or head out across the piazza to a discreet bagnio if they wanted company. The girls would go back to work – in a rented room close by if they were lucky, or back to the dark, stinking passages off the Strand if they were not.
‘Tom,’ Charles said in a low voice as Moll pulled a pipe from her pocket. ‘We should leave.’
He was right. Sitting here with ten pounds in my purse was reckless. ‘We should finish the punch first.’ There was still half a bowl left and it was high time I learned not to waste my money.
Charles rose and took his hat down from its hook on the wall. ‘Well, I must go. Sir Philip locks the house at midnight.’
Moll flashed him a smile as she lit her pipe. ‘Oh, there’s men here can help you with locks, sir-’
‘Thank you, Charles,’ I interrupted hurriedly. I stood up and grasped his hand. ‘I will pay back the money I owe you. I swear it.’
He put a hand on my shoulder and looked deep into my eyes. ‘God has given you a sign, Tom. He saved you from gaol today. You have a chance to start your life afresh. Come to the house tomorrow morning. I will talk with Sir Philip, see if we can find you a position…’
‘Tomorrow.’
He beamed at me, then bowed to Moll and left. I watched him weave his way through the chairs and tables and had the sudden urge to leave with him as he’d asked. All my life Charles had given me good advice. For some reason I could not fathom, I never took it.
‘Tomorrow,’ Moll said.
I frowned at her absently.
‘Always tomorrow with you, Tom.’ She studied me closely, her chin propped in her hand. I was one of her favourites, I knew; I was handsome enough, I suppose, and a good customer when I had the funds. And when I didn’t, I could still pick up a wealth of information at the gaming tables, sitting between lords and thieves and politicians. Idle gossip in the main, but Moll knew how to sift it for gold. ‘I’m glad you’ve escaped gaol,’ she said. ‘The Marshalsea most of all. The warden’s a monster…’
