A Nest of Vipers Read Free

found floating in the Indian Ocean in a giant shell.’
    The Ordinary smirked as he continued to write, his quill scratching across the page furiously. I had no idea how he could see anything in this gloomy light.
    ‘I always hated the sales. We had played this game so many times before – me the slave, sold by Mother Hopkins , over and over all around the country, and I never stayed in any of them fine houses longer than a fortnight . . . There’s another hundred more tales for you, sir! I know, I know, I must keep to one story at a time.
    ‘So, even though in my heart of hearts I knew I would be back at the Nest of Vipers within the week, there was something about the saleroom that made my eye moisten and my lip tremble every single time. Mother Hopkins encouraged this as she said it made a good spectacle.
    ‘Captain Walker was a nasty piece. I could tell this by the way he checked my teeth as if I was a horse, prodding around inside my mouth so hard I could not help but flinch. I was much minded to bite off his fingers, but Mother Hopkins fixed me with her evil eye. He paid five guineas for me, then he took me straightway by boat to Greenwich, and Addeline was right: the house was one of those big show-off white-icing affairs.
    ‘It is strange that people who wouldn’t dream of walking through the streets with their money hanging out of their pockets are more than happy to advertise their wealth through clothes or carriages or houses. Don’t you agree, sir? The house gleamed like a beacon to the cracksmen of London, and I thought they would have fine pickings here.
    ‘I tell you, my jaw fairly dropped when I got inside. Paintings – ships and portraits mostly (I would ignore the portraits; they never sold) and one of horses in the modern style that Mother Hopkins would be most pleased with. I reminded myself to keep my hands hard in my pockets, though, for our spoils were to be human rather than material.
    ‘Then Mrs Walker comes down the stairs clapping her hands and saying, “Oh! Oh! He is a darling, and he is mute, John? Such a fetching affectation!” Then the captain says to her, “He’ll do. At least he’ll be quiet. How is Elizabeth? Did she like the Stapleton lad? His father is a marquess: we could not do better.”
    ‘So the missus says, “Oh yes, John, she’s quite taken with the diamond necklace he bought her. And all that dreadful business can be forgotten. They’re coming round for tea this afternoon and now little Sam here can do the honours in his fine suit.” She claps her hands together again. “What a pet!” she coos, chucking me under the chin, and says to me very slowly, as if she reckons I can’t understand the Queen’s English: “You’ll be our Sam now – the name’s on the collar and we’re not about to change it. We’ve always had a Sam here and we always will.” She leans down to me and her eyes are pale and watery and she says, “You’ll find Greenwich a deal of difference to the jungle, little Sam.” I have to bite my tongue hard to stop myself laughing out loud. And she leads me away to put on the threads I am to spend my working week in.
    ‘The suit is brocade, navy blue and also heavy as lead and the turban too big. Mendes, the cove that Mother Hopkins sells old threads to, would give a pretty penny for the lot but they don’t half itch. And the collar! Wouldn’t you know it is the same one Sam had been wearing the week before, so it is far too big and digs into my shoulders a good deal.
    ‘At least I am right good at pouring chocolate from a silver pot. Mother Hopkins has taught me well. And I see the daughter, Miss Elizabeth – well, I see her sparklers, which are as beautiful as she is, only more honest looking, and I’m so busy thinking about how Mother Hopkins would die of delight if she could see that necklace that I forget to serve the visitors – Lady Stapleton and her lumpy son.
    ‘“Sam!” Mistress Walker chucks me under the chin. I do