Sikes, Chapter 19: Mr Charles Dickens - June 23rd, 1849

A few weeks later, Lucy and I were able to enjoy a week together in the area around the Regent’s Park, where we sat and chatted, took tea and strolled the roads surrounding the parkland - in particular, one Devonshire Terrace, where there were some very large and comfortable looking buildings to admire, in one of which lived a certain Mr Charles Dickens. Our hope was, as Lucy had suggested, to catch him when he set out on one of his afternoon walks and see if we couldn’t squeeze a few more questions out of him.

I was not over-keen on the plan myself. Mr Dickens had made his feelings very plain on the matter, which was his right, however inconvenient it was to the Investigation; but truth to tell, there was little else I could do to move things forward. So Lucy and I to Devonshire Terrace, to hunt for for that rare beast. Had he, too, been warned off poking his nose in where it was not wanted? He could at least tell us if there were any real danger.

Lucy’s plan of catching Mr Dickens and squeezing some answers out of him would never work for me on my own - I am, I admit, far too poor at pretence ever to show myself as anything other than what I am. Lucy, on the other hand, was more than happy to act the part. In order to escape both her father and the tireless attentions of aunt Betsy, she had found it necessary to arrange something of a subterfuge. She had told her father and aunt that she was simply visiting her cousin Mary, who was excited to be part of the illusion, and who was only put out that our subterfuge was an innocent one. She told Lucy that lying for work was beneath her, whereas lying for love was something she would have been happy with. Love there was, of that I could promise her. In fact, there was a good deal more love than business happening during that week. Lucy and I saw each other every single day, and were able to enjoy a level of intimacy we had never achieved before - not, I hasten to add, because of any marital intimacy as such - but there were kisses! There were embraces and heartfelt sighs! - simply because of the large amount of time we were able to spend on our own. She had taken a room in boarding house, where she spent the nights and sometimes the evenings too. We did not breakfast together, as we felt rather too intimate a thing as yet. But in the mornings after breakfast we walked together, visited a few shops where Lucy bought some items for her trousseau, took tea and so on. Then in the afternoon we made our way to Devonshire Terrace and its surrounds, in the hope of bumping into our man, who was known to take long walks around London in the afternoons.

How delightful it was to spend some so much time with her! My heart rose to my chest every time we met. I longed to see her again each evening when we parted, and I longed to be able to go home with her and for us to spend the night together - to be married at last! I was cursing myself for wasting time and money on this idiot Investigation, which was becoming more and more like some kind of detecting exercise, rather than a study into the soul and being of man himself. I was now trying to find out what Sikes had done, which I had thought I knew but perhaps did not, rather than who he actually was. I was discovering that the human vessel is a weaker thing than I had ever anticipated when it came to reporting the simple truth. A man must know what the truth was, before he could even wonder what it meant.

It was a somewhat patchy summer, with the sunshine sandwiched in between wind and rain; but to us the weather seemed especially made for billing and cooing, with the sun was coming out just for us two love birds,. I daresay any weather would have seemed that way to us, but there was something particularly delightful about strolling the sunshine one moment, huddling under a parasol the next, taking shelter from the storm one minute in a shop one minute, and sipping tea under an awning the next. Many teas - and several glasses of punch - were drunk, slices of cake devoured, hands held, theatres attended, intimacies exchanged .... and of course there was a lot of walking around the environs of Devonshire Place, without a glimpse of our quarry - not that we cared I think - until on our penultimate day ...

At last! There he was; the elusive Mr Charles Dickens, walking rapidly down the road. He was some way ahead, and I was inclined to let him escape since it would be a rush to catch him, and would probably put our quarry on his guard. But Lucy was not to be put off and broke at once into a sprint, as near as she could manage in her skirts and ran down the road towards him calling his name loudly. I have to admit, it was embarrassing; Lucy has a very loud cry, and sounds peculiarly like a young cow calling when she is excited, and I half hoped that Mr Dickens would ignore her and carry on his way. But he stopped and turned to see her, and even walked towards her to stop her having to run so far.