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Sukey really should have stopped after stealing the lady's purse.
That lift had gone smooth as anything - even with the tricky slipknot that the woman used to secure it - while the couple were distracted by Emma peddling her posies. The lady (whose purse was lighter than Sukey liked, despite her nice dress) was still cooing over the flower colors when the man shifted his weight. He tucked his coat back, setting his hand on his waist, and revealed the shape of a wallet in his pocket.
Sukey should have stopped, but she couldn't resist.
She was just sliding the wallet free from the cloth when a hand seized her wrist.
"Not so fast," the man said, his grey eyes as hard and cold as the London cobblestones.
Sukey swore and tried to tear herself away. She kicked out at the man's knees for good measure. He dodged, wrenching her arm higher in the air so she was almost dangling from it, and neatly plucked the wallet from her hand.
"Oi, that's my purse!" the lady said, darting in to snatch it from Sukey's other hand. She cradled it like it was precious, instead of a much-mended thing that was mostly empty of coin. Behind her, Emma was inching away, looking convincingly horrified and innocent but not fucking running, like the soft silly thing she was.
Sukey glared at Emma as hard as she could, and then yelled, "Lemme go, you rat-faced bastard!" and kicked out - at the lady this time, trying to draw both of their attentions as Emma finally fucking legged it.
Sukey was too short to catch more than the edge of the lady's skirts, but she yelped gratifyingly and drew back. The man's gaze flickered up and sideways. Sukey's stomach dropped as he clocked Emma scurrying around the corner, and hardened into a little knot as he turned all his attention back to Sukey, suddenly sharper and somehow more focused.
"I'll take care of this, Bess," the man said. "Why don't you go ahead and I'll catch you up?"
"Oh, sure. And then you'll not tell me a thing, as usual," Bess huffed, settling her skirts and purse. "Fine. Have it your own bloody way, Justin. You always do."
The man- Justin - tightened his grip around Sukey's wrist, but he didn't say anything, just watched with tight lips as Bess swished off, somehow managing to put an offended bustle in her step.
Sukey probably would have admired that more if she hadn't been nicked, and completely fucked. Justin the ratface weren't a big man, but his hands were bloody strong and he kept evading her attempts to free herself. Bastard.
"That was a neat job with the purse," Justin said coolly, "I almost didn't spot you. And you were working with the flower girl - a solid distraction."
"Right knowing one, ain't you? Piss off," Sukey spat, thrashing in his grip. She felt like a live fish she'd seen once in the market, wiggling around with the seller's fingers jammed in its mouth. Her heart pounded in her ears.
"She did have the face for it. Very honest. I assume that's how she talked you into doing the dirty work?"
"Fuck you, it was my idea!" Sukey cried, checking again to make sure Emma hadn't come back like a ninny. Sukey had told her to head straight back to the hideout if Sukey ever got nicked, but Emma didn't always listen. She was loyal. Sukey was trying to teach her not to hold onto things - that just slowed you down when you needed to run - but Emma still remembered having parents and shoes and a roof over her head.
Justin tipped his sharp little ratface to the side, studying Sukey. She glared back and kicked out at his shin for good measure. He simply held her a little higher so she went off-balance and missed.
"Do you know Hanging Sword Lane?" he asked, and Sukey stilled in surprise.
"'Course I do," she said warily.
"If you're ever interested in a different kind of work, come to number 7. I'm in need of an assistant with light fingers."
"Don't sell me a dog," Sukey said scathingly. Who the fuck tried to hire a street rat pickpocket? For what kind of 'work'? He was up to no good.
Justin smirked. "Suit yourself," he said, and dropped Sukey's arm.
Sukey kicked out at him once more for good measure - the bastard dodged - and sprinted away down the road to freedom, not sure if she was grateful or even more pissed off about it.
"He offered you work? That's wonderful!" Emma said later that night, tucked away in their alley corner behind the grocer's trash heap and against the wall of the baker's, where the oven would start to warm the brick in the cold, dark hours of the morning.
Sukey snorted. "S'pose it might be, if he weren't up to something."
"Well, ain't we, too?" Emma said practically. "Like recognizes like."
Sukey rubbed at her wrist thoughtfully. She could still feel his hand there, though Justin's grip hadn't bruised at all. He had clever hands, like her, and an eye for pickpockets that was unusual for someone who dressed so nice.
Fuck it, she was curious.
"We'll go to Whitefriars with the flowers tomorrow and get an eye on his place," she decided. They had enough for that and food, mostly.
"Alright," Emma said agreeably, and wrapped her arms around Sukey as they lay down. With her warmth and the relative quiet of their corner, Sukey dropped right off and didn't wake until dawn.
Hanging Sword Alley was a scrawny little terrace off Whitefriars, all boring brown brick and mostly-respectable houses. Emma set up by the archway that led into the street with her basket of flowers, tying them into posies, while Sukey snuck into the alley to take a look at number seven.
She wriggled in a little nook between the houses across the street and kept watch. She'd learned this - along with how to lift purses and wallets - from the housebreaking crew she used to run with, before they all got taken by the peelers. Sukey had gotten away by sheer luck, and been on her own until she found Emma.
It was both harder and easier, with just her and Emma: if they had a bad day and no luck, there wasn't anyone else to bring in money, but they also didn't have to give away most of what they took to the bosses. Still, with winter coming again, they'd have to find a place indoors, and that was harder with only two to fight for it.
Sukey shook off her worries as a gentleman went up the steps to number seven. A footboy answered the door, dressed respectably in black. He looked a few years older than Emma, and his voice cracked a bit when he spoke, though he hadn't gotten his growth yet.
Sukey frowned, trying to work it out. So, well-off enough for a servant, but not fancy enough for a butler. A morning caller, so not a night worker (and Justin didn't seem like a margery, with that girl of his); the man was dressed well, though not a gentleman. What was he up to in there?
Then a lady walked down the alley and up Justin's stairs, and was received by the footboy just the same. She wasn't dressed flashy, not in this neighborhood but Sukey could tell from across the street that her dress was expensive as fuck: fine fabric, detailing and embroidery everywhere, dyed well. She was followed a few minutes later by another, older lady in full mourning - with one of them fancy veils even! - leaning on the arm of a younger man who looked a bit like her.
Sukey kicked her heels for a couple of hours - the church bells rang out distantly - before the door cracked open again. She darted back out to sit with Emma as Justin's...guests? customers? marks? spilled down the terrace, all smiles now.
Sukey nudged Emma with her elbow pointedly, and Emma popped up with her flower basket and did her best call of 'flowers for sale' to them as they passed. She hooked the younger lady in the nice dress, and Sukey sidled up as the lady sorted through Emma's wares.
"Was you visiting Mr. Justin, miss?" Sukey said, in her best innocent voice.
"Oh, do you know Mr. Lazarus, child? Well, I shouldn't be surprised. Such a kind and generous man, after all. It's no wonder he can speak to the spirits, with a heart like that."
"Very kind," Sukey echoed, playing along and beaming up at the lady to distract her from Emma, who looked flat-out boggled. "Did he help you, too, miss?"
The lady softened visibly. "Yes. Yes, he did." She overpaid for the posy, which was a right treat on top of the information, and floated off down the street with that same peaceful smile on her face.
Emma rounded on Sukey as soon as the lady was out of sight. "What did she mean by spirits?" she asked, squeezing her basket tight.
"He's a table-rapper! One of them medium types!" Sukey said, bouncing on her toes in excitement. So they were marks after all! That's why he needed helpers: not for lifting her skirts or lifting wallets, but for fleecing rich idiots who believed in ghosts - and he'd picked Sukey, of all the street rats, to work with him. This was better than she'd even dared to hope!
Emma brightened. "So you're going to take him up?"
"We're going to take him up," Sukey said, grabbing Emma's hand and towing her along. Emma stumbled a bit but followed gamely as Sukey charged down the alley to number seven, and up the stairs to knock on the door.
The footboy answered. "Can I 'elp you?" he asked scornfully, his mouth twisting at the sight of them.
"Yeah, tell Justin to come out," Sukey said, tipping her chin up defiantly.
"Not a chance," he said, and tried to close the door in her face.
Sukey jammed her foot in the gap and said, "He told me come by, you b--"
"Frankie!" Justin interrupted. "It's all right, I know her."
Frankie slunk away, throwing a glare backward. Sukey stuck her tongue out at him.
Justin raised an eyebrow. "Done enough watching, then?" he asked, and Sukey stiffened, caught.
Then she thrust out her chin and said, "Yeah! And I know you was gulling those marks that you can talk to ghosts, and I want in." She tugged Emma closer. "We both do."
Justin eyed Emma. "And does your friend share your skill at picking pockets?"
Sukey opened her mouth to baldly lie - then thought better. She'd tried to teach Emma, but she just wasn't suited to it. And she probably shouldn't start off lying right away, right?
She darted a guilty look sideways at Emma, and was startled when she spoke up on her own. "I can cook, a little," she said shyly. "Me mum taught me, before...."
Justin held Sukey's gaze for a long, unsettling moment - like a snake, he was, not even blinking - then sighed. He stepped back and held the door open. "Well, you'd better come in, then. Both of you."
Sukey grinned with delight, and followed him through the door to her future.