Fair Fight by Anna Freeman

face.
    ‘Good God, no!’ I cried instead, loud enough that Granville, who was looking out of a window at the pleasant square, looked over at us. He must have suspected we were speaking of him.
    ‘Then, do you bring him so that I will not ask you to share mine? Are you grown changed?’ I could see my friend bracing himself against my answer, even while his fingers plucked at my sleeve.
    I leant toward him just a little.
    ‘If we were not watched now, I would kiss all this lunacy from you,’ I said.
    We rarely spoke so explicitly. His fingers stilled upon my arm; his eyes grew soft.
    ‘I swear on your eyes, George, I only ever want you willingly.’
    ‘I will give you my eyes, if you want them,’ I said, to make him smile, ‘and you can wear them on a chain, like a watch. I give you my word, Perry, I brought him because I thought you would find him a merry companion. He is more of a rogue than he appears. We have the wildest larks when we escape school. I only wish you could be there.’
    For a moment Perry struggled visibly with the notion of Granville and I having wild larks without him. Then he conquered himself.
    ‘Well then, let us escape the house and see what amusement there is to be found,’ he said.
    We set out and simply strolled about, looking at everything there was to see; the quays thick with the masts of ships, the loads being pulled on sledges by sweating men, the women with trays of goods upon their heads, calling out their wares. We were all of us giddy with liberation.
    I was eager for Granville to show his roguish side and was not long disappointed. We had taken a pint of ale and a pie in a chop house and were filling our pipes. Granville excused himself and stood. Perry and I watched, bemused, as he stepped over to a crowd of rough sailors gathered about one of the long tables. We could not hear what was said, but we saw Granville’s stiff bow and the surprise upon the faces of the coves he spoke to. Their expressions quickly turned to amusement, however, and one fellow, a dark-skinned cove in a captain’s hat, slapped Granville’s thin back hard enough that he bent under the blow. He came back to Perry and me as straight-faced as ever he was, but there was a gleam in his eye.
    ‘What do you think of this? That old captain has given me the direction to an easy house, where he says we might expect a fine welcome.’
    We had never done more than visit the strollers of the docks, never had them do more than lay hands upon us. I cried out my agreement and turned to Perry. He nodded and smiled, but when the conversation turned and we began the business of finishing up our pipes I thought he looked a little sickly. I realised then that Perry might never have had a hand upon him but mine and his own. I smiled as fondly as though I were his elder, not a boy almost as green as he was.
     
    The house was on Pipe Lane, not far from The Hatchet, where Granville so enjoyed the sawdust. It was a narrow, shabby-looking place, with a great brute standing at its door. Granville ascended the step quite as if he meant to walk past the cove without a word; he found his way blocked by an arm as big around as my waist.
    ‘Ho, sir,’ Granville said, ‘is this not an open house?’
    The brute considered this. At last he said, ‘At this hour of the day it ain’t. And ’specially not to squeakers like you.’
    ‘Is my money not as good as the next man’s?’
    ‘It is if you have it,’ the brute replied.
    Granville slapped his pocket so that the purse clinked.
    ‘Well, sir?’ he said.
    ‘That don’t change the hour, now, does it? All that does is show where I’m to reach to lift your purse.’ The brute laughed and, I must admit, Perry and I could not help but smile.
    Granville was not at all perturbed.
    ‘If you would be so good,’ he said, ‘as to enquire whether the ladies should like an early visitor? If the answer is in the negative we will disturb you no longer.’
    ‘You ain’t got it in you