They found their way back to Charlie's hideout. Maggie decided the best way of gaining favour with Charlie was to tell him as much of the truth as possible; at least enough for him not to become too suspicious. When they entered the abandoned house, Charlie was not around. A couple of the younger children took them to see Jack instead, who was lazing upon the mess of sheets he called a bed.

"My, my," said Jack standing up to greet them. "Tosher, Blacky - go get some grub," he ordered two smaller children. "I want to talk to these two alone." He tossed a coin in the direction of the two younger children and after retrieving it they soon left.

As soon as they left, Jack's expression changed. He stood up and moved closer to Maggie and Tom. His manner became serious and aggressive. "What's your game coming around here? I saw you earlier today walking the streets with peelers."

"But -" began Tom.

"No buts, boy. I saw you with my own two eyes. Both of yous walking down the lane, large as life itself, talking away with them - as if you were all the best of friends. Peelers," he spat the last word out as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "When Charlie finds out -"

"Please don't tell him. It's not what you think," Maggie pleaded.

"What you doing with the filth then, eh? Do they know you're here?" Panic spread across his face.

"Is this a trap? Have you set me up? Are they coming to get us?"

"Please let us explain. And don't tell Charlie just yet," she pleaded with him once more.

"Don't tell Charlie what?" a voice at the doorless doorway called into the room. They turned and saw Charlie standing there. He had that ambiguous smile about his face. Was he happy? Furious? Both? "Tell me what, my sweet little ladybird?" he repeated.

"About the traps!" answered Jack.

"What about the traps?" Charlie asked moving towards them, his fists clenched.

"We got spotted, Charlie," interrupted Maggie. "We were spotted by that gentleman we rolled over last night. He was talking with the peelers near the police station house. We had to run for it. I'm sorry, Charlie. You were right all along. We should have stayed here with you."

Charlie smiled. "I'm always right, ain't I Jack?"

"Sure you are, Captain," Jack responded, still looking suspiciously towards Maggie.

"So you scurried back to your uncle Charlie then." He looked calmer now.

"We need protection and a place to hide away for a bit. I think the gentleman reported us to the law. They got a look at us. But they didn't follow, of that I'm sure. I think we dodged them well."

"Think?" asked Charlie.

"Know we did, Charlie. We just need protecting for a while," she replied.

"You know my protection comes at a price, my pretty little angel?" Charlie moved towards Maggie and stroked her hair. "It don't come cheap, either."

"I know, Charlie. But we're desperate and need your help," pleaded Maggie. "We're willing to earn for you, Charlie. Honest to God we are. We'll do as many jobs as you want. Just don't send us away!"

After a brief, private talk with Jack outside the room, Charlie returned and agreed to keep them. At least for the meantime. Although he told them they would have to stay out of sight for a few days or so. Just to let the heat die down.

"After a while," he explained, "the peelers will move on to something new," he reassured them.

"They always do round here. Something serious will turn up and you'll soon be forgotten."

***

Like outlaws they remained hidden away. At first Tom found the idea of this extended game of hide and seek thrilling. But after a day or so, the thrill began to wane and he began to complain of boredom. Both children barely crossed the threshold of the abandoned and hole-ridden building. They would see other members of the gang coming and going, bringing back stolen items, before quickly dashing off once more to sell them. And the other children's comings and goings, made their inactivity all the harder to bear.

To make matters worse, the rain began to fall day after day, or so it seemed to those imprisoned inside. When it fell, it not only seeped through the house and soaked the rooms, but it also produced an unbearable pitter-patter of drips - which resounded and echoed through the whole building. It became torture to stay indoors and listen to the continual dripping all day.

After a few days, Charlie became frustrated too. He wanted the heat to die down so he could continue with the great plans he now had for Maggie: plans which seemed to go beyond using her merely as bait in the mugging of gullible and drunken gentlemen. He seemed to have a whole new profession mapped out for her; one Maggie hated the sound of, the more he spoke of it.

Jack, on the other hand, became their link to the world outside. Charlie used him as a go-between, and in the process a delicate friendship began to grow between the three of them. As hard as it was for Maggie to believe, beyond the dank and crumbling house, life continued as normal. It was Jack who Charlie entrusted to keep Maggie and Tom informed of their current situation. It was Jack who, one day, although unable to read, (as he later confided) brought them a copy of the newspaper, revealing their renown to the whole world.

"Charlie reads some," he began to explain. "And the other day he finds a newspaper. And look at what he turned up." He gave them the copy of the newspaper, a section had been circled under the headline: Mystery of Missing Publisher and Writer "I think he knows now that you wasn't telling the whole truth. He wants me to find out who you really are and what you've been up to. He's starting to get jittery."

We were scared and didn't know how he would react," answered Maggie.

"Is all this business true, just like it says in this newspaper - about your old man, and this old cove being murdered and all?" asked Jack.

The children, now more trusting of Jack, told him even more of their lives than they would ever tell Charlie. They told him of their father's fate, the details of Mr Turner's death and, of course, all about Sanctuary and their hopes for the future.

We don't even know if Da is still alive or even how to get to Sanctuary," said Tom. "But one day we will get there - won't we Maggie."

At moments like this, Jack would sit quietly and listen to all that was said. Maggie suspected he reported most of what they spoke of to Charlie. However, at that particular moment, he was the closest thing they had to a friend. The other members of the gang only ever spoke to them when they congregated together as a group, or at night when they all huddled together beneath blankets and slept as one fluid mass of bodies along the walls of the large room.

Maggie sensed the rest of the gang still didn't fully trust them or had not fully accepted them into their crew. This was especially true of Kitten, who snarled and hissed at Maggie whenever they were in close proximity. When Maggie sensed Kitten was the worse for drink, she became fearful of her and would find an excuse to leave the room, avoid her menacing glare, until she was sure she fast asleep. Then she would move in close next to Tom and hold him until he fell asleep. Jack positioned himself next to Maggie and Tom. But Charlie never slept with gang in the abandoned house, and none of the gang ever mentioned where he might be at such times.

Eventually Jack began to share aspects of his own life with them. It was afamiliar and sad tale: a story similar to most of the ragged children who ended up foraging upon the city's streets. It was a tale of abandonment, abuse, hopelessness and finally criminality. He told them of a mother he so dearly loved, but whom, when he was very small, departed abruptly one day. He was left with an aunt and uncle who beat him and sent him out begging at a young age - sometimes half-naked, even during the midst of winter.

"In the end, I run away from them. I had nowhere to go but then met Charlie. And ever since, I've lived a better life."

"How old are you?" asked Maggie.

"I don't rightly know."

"Don't you ever celebrate your birthday?" asked Tom.

"I don't know when my birthday is," he replied.

Tom was surprised and asked him how old he thought he was?

"I think I might be twelve. Twelve sounds right to me."

Maggie thought she saw a passingmoment of sadness in his eyes, a moment when his usually harsh scowl turned into a second of quiet reflection.

"If you could be granted one wish, Jack, what would it be? Think carefully now before you answer," asked Maggie.

In the brief silence, Maggie observed it again: that momentary flicker of tenderness. It was a like a reflex, but you had to ask the right question to make it appear.

"Oh, I've no need to think carefully on that, Maggie. If I could be granted one wish, it would be that I should find my old ma again. Be...whatchemacallit with her. You know when-"

"Reunited?" interrupted Maggie.

"That's the word - maybes we could be reunited. I'm sure if I find her she will want me back again. A mother would always want her child back, wouldn't she, Maggie? I'm sure as sure can be, that's what she'll want. And I've been thinking lately of finding her out."

He paused, thought for a moment, hesitant and unsure if to continue, as if he were debating in his mind if he could really trust these two strangers.

"To tell you the whole truth, I've been thinking of leaving here. I've been thinking of hitting the road and finding my old ma. But," he paused again and moved in closer. "But you mustn't tell Charlie - or any of this lot. You see I've a bit of blunt stashed away. A little bit of skim from all our jobs together. I've been thinking of moving on. Taking my money and getting out."

"I think that would be a great idea," said Thomas. "Maybe your old ma is in Sanctuary too. Maybe you could join us and we'd all go looking together."

"Or, more sensibly," added Maggie frowning at Thomas' flight of fancy. "Maybe you could come with us to Sanctuary. There you could learn to read and write properly. Then you would be able to write to people, people who may know how to track down and find your mother."

Jack's face lit up for a while as they talked about the future. Then, all of a sudden, he laughed and the light of hope faded from his face, and made way for the familiar, harsher expression to reclaim its authority once more.

"Listen to you two! Ha! What's all this you're yapping on about. You think Charlie is going to let you just walk out of here? Just like that!" he snapped his fingers. "When all this dies down, you'll be put out to graft." He scratched his nose, hurriedly like an irritated mouse. "If you think you've got a hope of getting away from here -forget it. Or forget it without my help anyways. I'm the reason your-" he stopped himself, got to his feet, marched from the room, and left the children alone.

After he had left, Thomas turned to his sister, "What's wrong with him, Maggie? Why's he so moody?"

"I don't know, my little man. I think talking about his mother upsets him. But I think underneath it all, he's rather a nice boy. And he may well help us yet."

She picked up the newspaper Jack had brought earlier and looked back at the story about Turner's disappearance. As she reread the story, she thought over their options, until her eyes moved to another, smaller story at the bottom of the page.

She read on: It is most painful to report that the decomposed body of a woman pulled from The Thames on May 28th has been recorded as suicide. The unidentified woman, aged between thirty to forty years of age, had a rope and the remnants of bricks tied around hers waist - used as a device to weigh her down, the jury believed - when she was fetched from the water by dredgers working the river on Thursday evening. The Coroner, Mr George Davidson, said the woman's, 'was a lonely and melancholy death.' The jury returned the verdict, 'The deceased, being at the time in a state of mental derangement, drowned herself.'

Maggie let the paper fall to the ground,turned away from Thomas and lay down on the blanket. As she closed her eyes, she whispered into the growing darkness, "Oh Lord, why have you chosen me? I am myself being undone, by reason of a burden that lies hard upon me. Help me, Lord. Please help me."

***