Chapter 34
Adison goes back to bed as well, slightly sad to find her beloved injured once more. All Vincent wants is to lead a normal life, but time and time again he ends up on the wrong side of a knife, a claw or this time, a gun.
She is not worried for his life this time, all the former occasions have shown he is not likely to infect, and he heals very fast. He'll probably make it to his audition the day after tomorrow, and most likely even to the show tomorrow. But why does he have to suffer so much?
All is well, Vincent is sleeping quietly, no fever, no sign of pain, he snores a little bit, and Adison really has to control herself not to kiss him tenderly, she loves him so much. But that might wake him up to feel the pain again, so she just watches him for a while in the soft light of the moon.
Catherine is sleeping, too, she enjoyed the bustle of the theatre so much, that poor child was just bored on Nelly Dean's farm. She was born for city life, and excitement, exactly what she'll get here. Maybe she will want to come on a few house calls, minor cases in very wealthy homes, it'll give her something to do when her dad has to rehearse his new role in a theatre much farther away from home, he'll spend a lot of time travelling.
For Adison doesn't doubt he will get the role at St James', he is so good, he can play anything. She undresses and crawls into bed herself, snuggling against her beloved with relish. He turns in his sleep and takes her in his arms, and she quickly falls asleep as well.
Did Vincent ever think himself violent and passionate? Well, he knows better now, for he is feeling a rage he has never experienced before, overruling his very being, making clear thought virtually impossible.
A breathing exercise calms him down, and he takes a good look around him. It is dark, the dark of a moonless night in the enclosure of the city, and it is raining, not hard, but a cold and miserable drizzle.
He is not alone, there is a crew of five men with him, and he is clearly the one in charge. His men have sooty faces, the rain causing white tracks to form over their cheeks, and they look positively frightened, not of what they have done or are going to do, but of him!
So this is not real, this is one of those flashes, and he is Heathcliff in a towering rage, over...yes, over what? Vincent cannot find a reason for his all-consuming anger. Suppose Heathcliff just felt this rage all the time, ever since Cathy died?
One of the men, a small, emaciated redhead answering Neil's description of Irish Tom, is clearly a tiny bit braver than the others, for he faces him and asks as unobtrusively as possible, 'All right Heathcliff, we're here, what do you want us to do next?'
Vincent feels the rage flare up, apparently this innocuous question from one of his men is enough to push Heathcliff over the edge, but Vincent knows he is in control in these dreams and he quells any thought of harming the little fellow.
But he has no clue what they are doing here, and if he rummages in Heathcliff's mind that may give the brute a hold on Vincent's own mind. Better ask Tom.
'You've heard why we're here, how do you propose we proceed?'
The men are clearly stunned that Heathcliff asks anyone for his opinion, but Tom does not hesitate.
'You said the Master ordered the old textile mill burned down. The building is made of wood and filled with cloth and cotton fuzz, and there is no-one out there this time of night. Seems easy enough to me, we go in, spread the oil around a little, light a few fires and out again.'
Why would the enemy be burning a textile mill? Vincent will ask his friends tomorrow, but first he will ask Tom, though circumspectly.
'Is there a watch?'
One of the men shakes his head, Tom's daring question has not been punished so they dare react now.
'No Heathcliff, there isn't. It's the oldest factory in London, I don't know why the master wants it destroyed, for it is useless, there are no modern machines there, children do all the work, they say it's a living hell.'
'It must be politics, for if it burns down, the owner will be accused of burning it down himself, to cash insurance money,' one man says.
'Maybe he hired the Master to burn it down,' that is another.
'Maybe the Master wants to offer for the ground, it's worth more than the property with the city growing.'
His men are certainly not stupid, this is all reasonable.
'And you're sure no-one's there?' he asks.
They all agree.
Vincent of course doesn't feel much like burning down anything, but he knows Heathcliff will have to obey his master. He can change the past a little, but not too much. So he'll burn the building down, deliver a few children from a living hell, and make sure no other buildings will go up, and all his men will get out safely.
'All right, here is what we'll do.'
And he explains the way they will start the fire deep inside the building, where it will damage the building and the goods most, then work outwards, giving themselves time to escape, and the fire-brigade time to save the houses on the other side of the road. The rain will help, too.
They break into the building quickly, and find it deserted. It looks like hell, and it feels like it, as if the voices of hundreds of children cry out their suffering and misery in this dank hole.
It is not clear what task the children have here, they don't have time to think of that anyhow, there are huge bales, and piles of fluff, and even some heaps of cloth. The guys with the oil douse all the bales and heaps thoroughly.
In a dark room that Vincent doesn't want to think of what it is used for, one of the men strikes fire, and they light four torches. Four men walk from the centre of the building to the exit, lighting all the piles in their way, and when the piles are starting to roar and the flames are licking the wooden beams, they make their escape quickly and quietly towards the river-bank, where they wash their hands and their faces on Vincent's order.
Vincent realizes that if he disperses the crew now, they will go straight back and watch the fire, and for some reason he doesn't want them to do that. Feeling his pockets, he finds quite a bit of change, and he says merrily, 'Let's celebrate a job well-done, who will lead us to a pub not too far, and not too close?'
One of the guys seems vaguely familiar with his face cleaned, is he one of the guys Vincent killed with his blade yesterday? Or was he in the crew that eventually murdered Heathcliff? Whichever he is, maybe even both, he leads them to a bar, where Vincent gives a few rounds of beers, after which he orders all of them, in a very pleasant mood from the drinking, to go straight home and not go back to the fire.
A strange feeling comes over him, very distracting from what he is doing, unpleasant, too. It takes him a while to realize the feeling is pain, and it's not this body suffering, but his own, almost two years in the future.
He loses contact with the past, and wakes up tossing and turning.
At first light Adison wakes up because Vincent is starting to get restless. She fetches a glass of water and some painkillers, he is probably in pain, and when he opens his eyes she can see that is true, they are wild and glazed.
