"That's how it happened."
"You're in chaos as well..."
I muttered, half in admiration, half in disbelief.
Oh, um... quite an ambitious man. Personally, I don't dislike people being enthusiastic about their work, but... that's that.
"Then isn't it unlikely to turn out well?"
"You don't have to worry about that. The Savoy theatre owner is a decent director, and the failures were mainly due to weak scripts. It won't be the case with us."
"Who on earth wrote those scripts...?"
"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sir James Matthew Barrie."
"... Oh."
"Those gentlemen, was it? Now that you mention it, I think I've heard a similar anecdote before, but I never realised this was the same theatre!"
Anyway, Mr Bentley, flipping through the contract, said, 'To be honest, I think the Savoy Theatre is a good fit for your work. You may not know, but 'Savoy opera' is known for its light, popular comic operas.'
'Comedy...'
That doesn't mean a comedy concert, does it?
I asked just to be sure, and he explained that although it might have some humour and satire, it's ultimately a serious play with a happy ending.
Hmm, that might be alright then.
'They said they'd prioritise hiring any actors or singers you want. Do you have any preferred casting?'
'I'm not familiar with that sort of thing.'
I shrugged as I spoke.
As I mentioned before, I know nothing about theatre, especially not in late 19th-century Britain.
'Just make sure to call me once to check how it's going. I need to confirm if it's progressing well or not.'
'Ah, yes. Understood. So, shall we proceed with the contract?'
'Really, please make sure to call me.'
'Ah... yes.'
Honestly, even after stressing this to Mr Bentley, I couldn't feel at ease.
I couldn't help it. As a web novel writer, I'd heard too many horror stories from industry veterans about the media mix.
They hired a competent mid-level manga artist for adaptation, only to have the direction be a mess. Or they adapted a drama and added an out-of-place romance to a no-romance story, ruining the character dynamics.
But the worst part was the ending... ah. Just thinking about it gives me a headache. Let's stop here.
Of course, I believed there couldn't be such terrible cases in this England.
Yes, let's trust that.
'But why did they choose to adapt The Fairies? Wouldn't it make more sense to adapt Modern Drama for the theatre?'
'Ah, haha. Well...'
He averted his eyes...
I could roughly understand why Mr Bentley was acting this way.
It's obvious, I heard from Mr.Miller that Modern Drama isn't well-liked by the aristocracy.
Of course, Mr Miller casually said, 'Why would I care about that? There are actually gentry and nobles who help Vincent. Personally, I liked Lord Asquith.' He took it coolly.
I intended it that way, too.
The only villain is the rebellious Villiers Duke, who even mocks royalty. Anyway, that's that!
'So, when will they start performing?'
'Once the contract is signed and production begins, it will take at least a few months to write the script, cast, compose music, and so on... at least half a year if we're quick.'
'It takes quite a while.'
'Considering the costume work time saved, it's actually fast.'
Just like with movies. No, movies take longer due to CGI and various other processes.
Well, I'm an outsider in that area, so there's nothing I can do.
I shrugged and said, 'Please handle the negotiations with them, Mr Bentley. I'm counting on you.'
'Author...!'
Mr Bentley looked at me with eyes full of emotion.
Well, in fact, for me, it's more about appointing an agent since I can't stay in London.
Honestly, if I can't trust my editor-in-charge or even the president in this situation, who else can I trust?
Then, Mr Miller patted my shoulder from behind and wrapped it up.
'With the play coming up, you need to work harder. Don't you agree?'
'Ah, haha. Yes, that's right.'
It was my parents pressuring me not to mess around and to take care of the children.
Yes, I'll get back soon.
***
Whitechapel, Old Street.
Walter, running a general store, had recently sensed something strange in the East End's atmosphere.
He felt it in his skin!
Since The Fairies became popular, a warm breeze had been felt.
The hopeful novel, like a shooting star, had mercilessly destroyed people's hearts, bringing a cold wind.
After Peter revived, a warm breeze was felt again.
But now, there was something more... Should I call it a sense of death? A refreshing yet eerie atmosphere as if an ominous presence had receded five steps away.
'Isn't that a good thing?'
'Of course, it's good.'
Walter nodded at his daughter Ellie's question as she offered her counsel.
At the same time, he felt a pang of sympathy.
Ellie, with her intellect, could have easily attended Cambridge, which started accepting female students in 1882.
But... it was too far for Ellie to attend.
The distance alone was a significant financial burden.
Finding a boarding house was difficult, obtaining study materials was hard, and tuition wasn't cheap either.
All of this cost money.
So, Ellie had no choice but to give up university and start helping Walter with the shop.
It was a common story in this area, hardly worth complaining about.
But reality is reality, and Walter's bitter feelings as a father remained.
If only he had a bit more money. Then he could have let his daughter study to her heart's content to become a teacher...
And sensing her father's feelings, Ellie frowningly spoke with deliberate cheer.
'Dad, it's really alright.'
'But, Ellie.'
'Enough! I like our current life. Besides, even if a woman goes to university, she often isn't registered as an official student. Most are just noble ladies using it to increase their value. I wouldn't take that even if offered.'
That's a lie.
Walter knew that.
But what would denying it do... It would only hurt his daughter more.
Walter just nodded silently and changed the subject.
'Anyway, the atmosphere has definitely improved lately. It's not bad, but... aren't you curious why?'
"Well... that is true."
Ellie shrugged her shoulders.
Since she attended school, she had experienced a slightly different, brighter, and more relaxed atmosphere compared to her father, who had lived only in the East End.
Because of this, she knew that the underlying atmosphere of this East End was abnormal.
"The murderer who roamed freely was caught, wasn't he? Couldn't that be why?"
"Well, people were dying here regardless of that man..."
As he said that, the bell of the general store rang.
At the same time, a regular customer, Dick, who now visited weekly instead of monthly, entered.
"Hey, Walter! Ellie is here today too."
"Welcome, Dick."
"Hello, Uncle!"
Come to think of it, Walter looked at Dick carefully.
When judging the change in the East End's atmosphere, there was no better person than Dick.
After all, Dick was a cab driver who roamed all over London, working as a daily labourer for a Hansom cab in the very depths of the East End.
And as Walter looked Dick over, the most noticeable difference was...
"Dick, you..."
"Yes? What is it? Don't tell me you're out of *The Fairies* this week?"
"No, I have it."
Walter handed over the magazine, which he now bought in bulk by the dozens.
As Dick, delighted, opened the magazine, Walter asked.
"By the way, Dick."
"Why? I'm busy reading, so speak quickly."
"Have you been eating properly lately?"
"Huh?"
At that question, Dick looked up.
He didn't answer, but his demeanour was answer enough.
The characteristic hollow shadows on Dick's cheeks, which had been so prominent before, were no longer visible.
This meant that the daily labourer cab driver, who had struggled to get even one meal a day, was now eating properly.
"Ah, you probably didn't know."
"What do you mean?"
"A free meal service has opened in front of the company recently. Any child in the area or any cab driver associated with the company can get a loaf of bread every day."
"A free meal service?"
"From the company?"
Walter, like his surprised daughter Ellie, couldn't help but be amazed.
Incredible. Which company would do such an unprofitable thing? Especially in this East End?
But Dick continued with even more surprising news.
"No, it's not provided by the company. What was it? Some charitable foundation runs the meal service."
"A charitable foundation?"
Could such a thing exist? Well, it was possible.
But Walter, feeling more uneasy than happy, clenched his fists unconsciously.
"...Could it be the work of the Reds?"
Basically, no one living in the East End liked the high-ranking officials of the country.
They believed in something bizarre called the 'invisible hand' and despised the poor, saying they lacked effort.
However, they didn't support the Reds, who stood in opposition to the high-ranking officials.
The Reds' rhetoric was sweet, but in the end, it all came down to destroying everything. They often broke factory machines and set fires.
This made it difficult to earn a living day by day until things were restored.
As such, Walter couldn't like either side.
And now... they suddenly opened a free meal service? What was their motive? Were they planning to burn down an omnibus like last time?
Walter narrowed his eyes unconsciously.
But.
"No, it's not the Reds."
"Uncle, then who is it?"
"What was it again, some foundation with a strange name?"
"...What?"
What was with that unimpressive foundation name?
As Walter's face showed his disbelief, Dick, with an innocent look, exclaimed as if he had discovered something amazing.
"Wait, come to think of it, isn't the protagonist's name also Peter? What a great coincidence!"
It was then.
Ding─!
Following Dick, someone else opened the door and came in.
It was a well-dressed gentleman, a rare sight in the East End.
"What brings you here?"
"Hello. I'm looking for Miss Ellie Smith. Is she here?"
"Yes? That's me?"
The father and daughter, as well as Dick, looked at the gentleman with surprised eyes.
The gentleman, smiling amiably, handed out his business card.
"Good day, Miss Smith. I am a solicitor from the foundation."
"A s-s-solicitor?!"
Had they perhaps been sued for something?!
Ellie stood up abruptly, anxiety filling her heart.
Living in the East End had inevitably given her a brash personality, and there were too many things that could have been the cause. Walter, too, tried to step forward slightly to protect her.
At that moment, the solicitor spoke hastily.
"Oh, I'm not here for anything strange. I've come to offer Miss Smith a job."
"...A job?"
"I heard from Mr Stuart. Your grades were excellent, but you gave up on university due to family circumstances."
"Mr Stuart..."
Hearing the name of her high school teacher from an unexpected source, Ellie's eyes widened. Meanwhile, the solicitor quickly continued speaking.
"I've heard you're already at a level capable of basic education. Our foundation is planning to establish a night school for children here in the East End."
"A night school?"
"Yes, as you probably know better than I do... many children here cannot afford to not work during the day."
"Ah."
Since the Factory Act of 1833, child labour rates had significantly decreased. Subsequent legislation furthered elementary education, but this was mostly for those in the mainstream.
While other areas were similar, the East End had many who lived hand-to-mouth, missing out on such benefits.
Many worked in textile factories, dye works, or went to the city to shine shoes. If they were lucky, they could use connections to work as hall boys or scullery maids in homes.
Poverty didn't discriminate by gender or age. Thus, starting with a night school was an unavoidable choice.
"So, you mean..."
"Yes, that's right. Miss Smith, I've come to hire you as a teacher for our night school. And since it's a night school, if you wish, we can support you in taking educational courses at university during the day... what do you think?"
He added that it would be best for someone from the area to take the position.
With those words, Ellie and Walter understood immediately.
As mentioned earlier, commuting far distances cost money.
Moreover, this was the East End.
It was unlikely that people from other areas would come easily to this remote place. Despite the recent capture of a serial killer, it was still a crime-prone area. Even if they did come, it was uncertain if they could easily adapt to the children here.
In short, there was no one more suitable than Ellie at present.
Born and raised in this area.
Naturally intelligent and, thanks to good teachers, she had received a higher education than her age would suggest.
"My goodness..."
Such luck had come to her.
Ellie unconsciously pressed her hands to her chest to calm her pounding heart.
And then.
"Alright, I'll do it. No, please let me do it."
"A wise choice. Welcome, Miss Smith."
Ellie grasped the solicitor's hand with a bright smile.