Pump of Death

The Pump of Death !

Aldgate, London, 1854.

“Me Mam says it’s the rats…”

“Nah, its ‘Old Molly’down the lane… Her’s a witch…put on a curse!”

“Old Molly ain’t no witch!”

“She is too! Erd me Dar say so…told me Mar…’Caught im pissing on her nettles she did, chased im wiv er broom… ‘Old Witch’ me Dar said, shouted it e did so them next door could ear… take er down the pond and dunk her!... He would too if it weren’t Tavern time.”

“Keep on pumpin! Be ere all day at this rate, Mams cuff’l find me ear if this water don’t come fer er tea afore the bloody baby wakes and starts to screamin agin.”

“Taint my fault, ruddy pumps rusty as hell, me arms fit te drop off if I don’t stop, ere swap over, yer ave a go.”

“Still say Old Molly ain’t no witch, was er made up a poltis fer me brothers leg, sucked out the pus it did and she brung im a mug o er nettle tea to ease is sweats… Ot and sweet e said, best he’d ever tasted… So why’s yer Dar pissing on er nettles?”

“Alf way betwixt pub an home ain’t it. Under that overhang of chestnut tree, leaves stops the rain from bothering down is neck...”

“T’ bucket near the brim yet?”

“Nar, keep goin… Anyway rat bites don’t giv yer milky shits and gaggin, they just urt. Me Grans ouse was full of em and they ain’t never done her no real arm, lost a finger I spose when one went black, bless her soul, but never erd of any folk dyin quick and in plenty like round ere.”

O“Vicar recons it’s the rats, gets is dog te chase em, won’t allow no food in the Chapel, put a big box outside for storage.”

J“We ain’t Chapel, Dar says we’s C of E whatever that is? Mam say’s the Taverns his church… That box me Sis and me used to sneak a mouthful or two frum of a dark night.”

O“Afore she was took…”

J“One of the first she wus…I can still smell her cack no matter how offen we wash the bucket… Mind… Yer saying Old Molly ain’t no witch, yer bro only lasted a week after she’d seen im. Maybe her nettle tea was cursed? Burned out is insides, made im sweat so, made im scream till his last breath?”

G“Olli!….Olli! ( a young bedraggled girl runs up). Mam says if yer don’t stop gassin and she misses er tea, yer goin to be fore it!”

O“Tell er it’s Jack’s fault, he pumps too slow.”

J“Bloody cheek, you pumped first…Ere put yer mouth under fer a sip afore we go.”

“Oh Vicar whatever will I do? First me usband, three of me young uns and now Oliver me oldest…When will it end? Who will be next to die what wiv me nursing the bairn and all?”

“Our Lord moves in mysterious ways Mrs Obrien, his wonders to perform…. Tell me dear lady, is that your cack that I smell in the bucket?”