Conan Doyle - The Pompey Lad

Conan Doyle outside his house.1 Bush Villas, Elm Grove, Southsea.

Susannah Spritely

Susannah Spritely's metamorphosis.

Emily's undoing

Emily called on her aunt. As usual she was shown to the back parlour, what wasn’t usual were her curtains.

“They’re new, aren’t they?”

“Bought them with me commission. I’ve had me eye on them for weeks now, and now I can see them all the time.” She stroked the maroon brocade fringe.

“Aunt?”

“That’s me. God help me.” Mrs Marshall poured them an ale.

“I’m in the family way,” Emily said.

“That happens when you’re married.” Mrs Marshall took a slug of her ale, and waited for the, BUT.

“It’s not John’s.”

Mrs Marshall looked at her niece, “So you want what from me?”

“It won’t be the first time, will it?”

“Want rid, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How many weeks along are you?”

“Couple of months.”

“Well, that’s nothing, why not wait and see . . . ”

“Auntie, I just know. OK!”

“Why not palm it off on . . . won’t be the first time either now, will it?”

Emily looked at her aunt. She didn’t miss a thing. “It’s not John’s. I haven’t been with him for . . . ”

“Well, now, you’ve got time for that. Sleep with him. Done. Safe.”

“I already did that.”

Mrs Marshall swallowed her ale. “But you still want rid?”

“I do.”

“All I will offer you is gin, a hot bath, and soap.”

“Here?”

“Of course, here. But I’m not going inside you with no hooks. I’ve done that before and the last time . . . ”

“That’s OK. I don’t want bits of metal shoved up me nethers either. So when?”

Mrs Marshall gathered all the pots, pans, and kettle she had, “You fetch the bath. No time like the present.”

 Mrs Marshall shaved slivers of carbolic soap into a ceramic bowl. “Right, while I’m doing this, you go up the pub and fetch two bottles of gin.”

“Two bottles?”

“Yep. Large ones.”

Walter Rackett's favourite tipple

Brickwoods, cheers.

Brickwoods pub C:1900

Charlie is a workhouse kid.

Charlie is a workhouse kid. Well, he spent a couple of weeks in that Portsea institution. He couldn’t stand the regulations and absconded. The gang live by the same rules – Charlie's. Mr Price to you, or as he now likes to be called, Sir. He's charming, handsome, rich, and powerful – bloody ruthless. He is a rule unto himself. He named his daughter Queenie – after all, she is Pompey royalty. He runs his borough with ruthless efficiency. Charlie Price has two sides. Nice and loyal or mean and nasty. You choose which side you are on. Lil chose. She fell in love with him – silly cow.

Brace yourself