Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lodgings

As soon as I stepped inside the heat hit me like a fog. Petty led us behind the front counter and to a small sewing station at the back.

On our right we passed rows of stoves and coppers steaming like anything.

“Well me gel.” Petty said to me. “Lets see if you can do a stitch as fine as your friend here sez you can do. Take the chair, there you go.”

I sat down and the flatlands girl handed me the shawl and needle and thread. Doing a rolled hem isn’t hard, Jo always told me, you just have to have the patience to put the needle where it’s supposed to go and work on keeping your stitches neat and even. The hem will work out all on its own if you make the stitches right. As I was hemming I used my lower stitches to catch the lace and attach that at the same time.

“Well.” Petty said when I was finished. “Have a look with your young eyes Yasmin and tell me what you think of that.”

“Ohh,finer than Mira could ever do it even!” the flatlands girl, Yasmin, said. “Where did you learn lass?”

“From a young lady.” I said, quite truthfully.

“You been in service then?”

“Yes.” I hoped she didn’t ask any more questions.

“Yes, well, you can all get to find out more about each other later.” Petty said.

“Later?” Frankie beamed.

“Oh trial only, mind!” Petty said wagging her finger. “You young gels come in here and expect me to ask no questions, well, bless me kind heart but that I won’t, but there’s be an eye with you, two if I can spare them. You gel, what are we calling you?”

“Frances.” Frankie answered. “Yes, well, you can help Yasmin and Cora in the laundry and you,” She turned to me, “Will need to help them also unless there’s stitchin’ needing those fingers of yours. You’ll start tomorrow. Now, if you don’t want that old Beats to be rentin’ your lodgings to someone else ye better git goin’ to secure them. Just you tell her old Petty has a place for you here and the work is nice an’ steady an’ if your mind forgets to mention it’s jut trial only then  I’ll not say nothin’.”

“Oh, thank you!” Frankie said.

“Yes well. Now before you git goin’ you just see Yasmin and she’ll help you, you might both look smart but there’ll be some old clothes in the cupboard you can wear, look less like where you’ve come from and more like where yer goin’.”

We thanked Petty and followed Yasmin.

“You lasses got yourselves into a spot of bother then?” She said. “Well, Petty won’t ask many questions and she’s a good soul really. You’re safe with her.”

“We’re very thankful.” Frankie said.

“Lets find you something to wear.”

The clothes were mostly old and worn but at least they were clean. Apparently as well as cleaning and mending clothes they bought up old clothes, fixed them up then sold them to those who couldn’t afford new clothes. I felt funny wearing someone else’s old things but Petty was right, we did look like girls straight from service. Even the girl selling flowers could see it. We changed into our ‘new’ things and Yasmin helped us to tie our old clothing up in our bundles to take back with us. Then, after saying goodbye to Yasmin and Petty until tomorrow, we headed off.

“Well, that’s the hard part done.” I said.

“Mrs Beats has to let us a room first.” Frankie said. “I’m not sure she’ll be as understanding as Petty.”

“I like Petty.” I said. “She’s a little strange, but I think I like her.”

“Hello!” We’d reached the corner and the young flower girl came running up to us. “Looks like you had some luck.”

“Ye, we did.” Frankie said. “Thanks to you.”

“Petty is good like that.” The girl said.

“If you know she’s caled Petty, why did you tell us Mrs Tomson?” I asked.

“Oh, she wouldn’t have liked strangers calling her Petty. She won’t have anyone calling her Mrs Tomson but she has to ask you to call her Petty. She’s a bit funny about that.”

“Speaking of names, we were never introduced before.” Frankie said. “I’m Frances, and this is Bella.”

“I’m Eliza.” The girl said. “And over there is my sister Clara. I should get back to helping her now, but it was nice to meet you properly.”

“Same!” Frankie said. “And we need to be seeing Mrs Beats.”

“Oh, are you staying there?”

“Well, we know she has a room free. Unless you know somewhere else we can try?”

“I don’t, sorry. Make sure you mind Mrs Beats, she’s a grumpy old crown but a stickler for good manners in everyone else. Good luck!”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

Eliza ran off to rejoin her sister.

“Well, nothin’ to do but to do it!” Frankie said. We approached the house and it looked even more forbearing than it did before. We stood at the base of the steps, held hands and walked up together.

It was cooler in between the buildings and I felt a shiver run up my spine.

“She’s only a cranky old boarding house woman.” Frankie said, I think more to herself than to me.

“Well, then come on.” A bit of highland courage was what was needed, so I walked straight up to the door and knocked on it.

“Well?” Mrs Beats said the moment she opened the door, a scowl on her face. “What do you pesterin’ kids want? Don’t come round botherin’ me, whatever yer sellin’ I’m not byin’!”

“Oh, if you please Madam.” Frankie said. “We were lookin’ for lodgings and we was told to come and see Mrs Beats because she is a good moral woman of good standin’ and would make sure a respectable place was found for us.” I’d never heard Frankie sound so humble before, but it did the trick.

“Oh, well, now that’s a different story, ain’t it. Why didn’t yer say so at once?”

“Well—”

“And how are yer to be payin’ fer a room?”

“We have places with Petty.” Frankie said.

“Oh, yer are are ye? Two kids all on their own? What are ye doin’ here?”

“I– our friend set us up with Petty, Madam, but she can’t offer us any place to stay. She did say if we we were good girls and well behaved then you might have a place for us here” It was almost true. We’d only just met Eliza but she had been a friend to us in this place.

“Hmm. Well, there’s always clothes to be mended an’ washed. There’s always work tgheir. I’ll be speakin’ to Petty mind!”

Mrs Beats invited us inside and we found ourselves in a dark and bare hallway.

“Ye’ll be wantin’ to see the room.” Mrs Beats said before leading up a staircase just just as long and narrow as the hall.

We went up several flights of stairs and Mrs Beats stopped when we reached the top landing.

“This is the free room.” She said before opening the door and leading us in.

We followed her into the room. It was larger than our little attic room at Lady D’Winter’s and there were windows but they let little light in.

We had a double bed, that was something, and a bit more furniture including a proper table and chairs. I shook my head. How feelings changed over such a short time that I was grateful for a roughly made table and chairs.

I let Frankie talk the financials with Mrs Beats though I listened closely. We had to pay most of our small savings upfront but we had a small amount left over.

Then Mrs Beats went through the rules.

She had quite a list but most of them were things I’d never have imagined doing anyway. Finally she left us to settle in.

“Well, it’s better than it could be.” Frankie said. “Lets get some light in here and set our things about.”

We set about lighting lamps and candles and the room soon brightened.

“I’m starving.” I said, suddenly realising it was true. And I was exhausted. We’d eaten some food during our walk but had barley dozed since… since the night before last.

We pulled out the last of our bread from our supplies and sat down at our table to eat it.

I could hardly keep my eyes open but forced myself to stay up and finish my food. It was like now that we had a safe space the highlander blood that had been pushing me all this time was saying “safe, sleep now.”

Frankie helped me into my nightdress and if you can fall asleep before your head touches your pillow, I did just that.

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Thank You Jo.

“The Grocer looked like he had enough help.” Frankie said as we walked. “And a girl can’t be of any help to a butcher. The lady at the draper’s had a horrible scowl, I wonder if she works there or was just an early customer?”

“What about down the end of the street.” I say. “We could sell flowers like those girls there.”

“That’s hardly a steady job.” Frankie said. “You have to buy the flowers first to sell them and if you don’t sell them then you’re out of pocket. It’s day by day work which means any lodgings are offered on night by night terms. This is a small place and the girls will have their own customers loyal to them. If it were a big city we might do better…” We came to  corner leading to a small street.

“We don’t want to go down here, do we?” I asked

“Are you new here?” The young girl who had been tying flowers into bunches came up to us. “Has somebody just move in? We didn’t hear of it, or are you new staff for one of the big houses? You look very young, you can’t be much older than I am. I’m seven and three quarters.” I smiled at the girl, she was very well spoken for a street flower seller and I wondered what her story was.

 

“We are new.” Frankie said. “But we’re lookin’ for work, do you know of anywhere needing someone?”

“Well, I don’t know. Are you wanting work in one of the houses?”

“No.” Frankie said.

“I didn’t think so. But I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” Frankie said. I was a bit puzzled by this exchange but I kept my mouth shut for the moment.

The two looked at each other for a while longer.

“If you’re not afraid of hard work, then you might try Mrs Tomson’s round the corner. If you’re very desperate.”

“Thank you. What buildin’ is it?”

“Oh, you’ll know when you see it all right.”

We parted ways and we headed off to the small street the girl had pointed at.

“She’s a good girl, she is.” Frankie said to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She knows we’re runaways, but she won’t say nothing. We should think up names.”

“Names?”

“If people are looking for a Bobbie and a Frankie, we don’t want to be Bobbie and Frankie.”

“Oh, not Bertha again!”

“Naw. What’s somethin’ you like and can remember but isn’t too fancy?”

“I’m sure I’ll still call you Frankie!”

“Well, I’ll pick Frances. That way if you start to say Frankie it won’t be as noticeable. Now, what Highlander names start with ‘B’.”

“Well, there’s Bonnie.”

“Maybe a little close to Bobbie. What else?”

“Well…” I racked my brains. This was harder than it sounded. “I suppose there’s Bella. Short for Annabella.”

“That’s pretty. Well, you’re Bella and I’m Frances, remember that?”

“I hope so!”

“Well, it’s better than Bertha at any rate! Come on.”

The street was the sort of street I would have once avoided but now walking down here was a chance at safety and security. I made sure to stand close to Frankie and to keep my eyes open.

“You need to be putting that spine into it! I cannot be getting on with my work if must be I’m in here doing half your work for you! You young gels you dance in and you dance out never minding poor Petty here left to try and make this meet that!”

“That sounds like the place the girl was talking about.” Frankie said.

“Over there.” I pointed.

“Yes… I see what she meant about not being scared of hard work.”

“Maybe they just need more help?”

“It’s a washer woman’s house. The whole lot is hard work. Come on.”

We made our way to the house and up the steps. Suddenly the door opened and a large figure, with just as large gold hoops in her ears, towered over us.

“Well?” She said looking at us. “Are your tongues with the cats?”

“If you please Madam.” Frankie said, “We’re looking for Mrs Tomson”

The woman in front of us burst out into loud, right pearls of laughter. My heart sank, had we gotten wrong information?”

“No one calls me that gel, Petty’s good enough for the likes of old Petty! Who might you be?”

“I’m F-Frances and this is Bella. We’re new in town and looking for work.”

“Oh just relying on poor Petty to get you by, where are you headed?”

“Well, here. There’s a room for us at Mrs Beats’—”

“Dance in and dance out you young gels. Take young Mira, was such a hard worker and promises to stay and then off she goes with some young fella and a swollen belly and poor Petty just can’t cope with that she can’t, no she can’t.”

“Well, we’re a bit young for fella’s yet” Frankie pointed out.

“Yes, well you’re a bit young for a lot of things. What experience do you have? Do you have a reference?” She looked from Frankie to me. “Do you?”

“I—”

“I didn’t think so.”

There was an awkward silence then the door behind Petty burst open.

“Oh Petty, you’re needed at once!” I looked up at the familiar accent and saw a young lady who could only be described as a “lass from the Flatlands” was speaking.

“At once! At once? What is this at once?”

“Mrs D’s Shawl, the pink chiffon one, the stitching on part has come unstitched and the lace there has come off!”

“Then stitch it back on gel! You’ve fingers!”

“Oh, that I know, but there was a rolled hem and that’s come undone there too and I can’t do as a fine one that was there.”

“And my old eyes aren’t what they were once. You young gels, where’s that Mira when you want her? Gone she is.”

“Bella can do it!” Frankie interrupted.

“Bella?” Petty looked back at Frankie. “Who is Bella?”

“I am.” I said. Petty looked at me closely with a slight frown then pulled my hands towards her as if to inspect them.

“These hands have seen hard work recently but they ain’t used to it. That they’re not.” She said.

“They’re more used to holding a needle and thread than a scrubbing brush.” Frankie admitted. “But she’s a hard worker. Same as I.”

“Well. Let me see your hands then gel.” Petty said. Frankie held out her hands for inspection. “Well, hard work is used to you.” Petty said after looking at them. “Well, Bella, is that what we’re calling you gel?” Petty asked me. I nodded. I wasn’t sure if it was just her odd way of phrasing things or if she had an inkling that wasn’t my real name.

“Well then. Lets see if you can stitch as fine as your friend praises. Come on in.”

We all followed old Petty into the building.

Thank you Jo, I thought to myself, remembering all the time she spent teaching me how to do the hems on my dress I made and had planned to wear to the soiree before my life changed forever. If only I knew then that I’d bee using what she’d taught me to try and earn enough for a place to eat and food to eat in this strange place so far from home.

Still, it was only for a week or two. I could last that. Then I’d be Bobbie again and maybe, just maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

 

 

Your Sim in My Story!

A while back I put out a call for extras and got some fantastic sims in response. For those of you who were kind enough to provide me with sims to use, keep an eye out because you’ll start to see them in the story. There’s a few in Chapter 26 and some more in the upcomming chapters.
Can you spot them?
Also I’ve downloaded some sims of characters from one of my favourite fandoms. They’ve gone through a bit of a makeover, but keep an eye out and see if you can spot them too!

Thank you all again for the support you’ve shown towards me in the writing of this story. I hope it doesn’t dissapoint!

 

Chapter Twenty-Six: A New Dawn; a New Life

Elen often said to me “Go to bed and sleep it out. It’ll all look different in the morning.”

She was right, it always did.

There’s an old Highlander saying, a new dawn is a new day. When the sun rises it shines light on hidden places and causes new shadows on others. At the moment the sun peaks over the horizon the day is a new beginning with no mistakes yet made. In our case a new dawn was more than a new day, our new beginning was a new life. This is how I knew we’d done the right thing in running away, because with this new day and this new life we hadn’t made any mistakes yet. The slate was clear.

We walked a long time, through the local village and on further. It was in the predawn light that a distant clip clop vanquished the silence before even the birds dared sing.

We looked back and saw a shape on the road in the far distance, because sound travels very far when it it not quite yet day. Frankie spun around.

“This way.” She said and started walking towards the source of the noise.

“But why? I asked her, jogging a little to catch up. “Why are we going back?”

“We’re not. But what if they’re looking for us? Two little girls out at this time so far from the last village, what else could we be but runaways? Now when we get in hearing range I want you to argue that we should go back, that you’re tired and your feet are sore, but when he gets closer I’ll do most of the talkin’”

So when the milk cart, for that was what approached, was closer I did just that. Frankie hushed me as the milk cart pulled up beside us.

“What are you two young ones doin’ out so early on the road?” he asked.

“Nothin’!” Frankie answered a little too quickly. The man narrowed his eyes at us and after a moment’s hesitation she gave in.

“We-ell.. Freddy Parkins next door has a cousin what runned away to the big city and he wrote a letter back sayin’ how wonderful it was so we thought we’d a-go and join him but someone—” Her she glared at me “Is gettin’ tired feet already!” I could tell Frankie was exaggerating her accent to make her seem more common and naive than she actually was. I looked down at my shoes remembering all the times she’d laughed at my “posh” accent below stairs. I couldn’t do a passable job on an accent in close quarters so I kept my mouth shut.

“So, runnin’ away was a great idea, was it” The man asked.

“Well…” Frankie screwed up her face.

“If yer caught missin’ at dawn your mistress will have the constable after ye! An’ the furst person they’ll ask is yours truly.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t tell?” Frankie asked. “Only even if we turn back now we’ll be too late, we’ve been walkin’ ages!”

“Git yerselves up on back an’ I’ll give ye a lift back and they’ll be none the wiser an’ we won’t have another word said.” The man said to us.

So Frankie and I did as we were told.

It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, on an old cart amongst the milk but at least it was better than walking!

“He delivers the milk.” Frankie whispered to me, letting the noise of the cart mask her voice from the man. “Then the local milkmen will collect it and take it round. The men who deliver the milk always see anyone on the roads just before dawn so they’re often asked about all sorts of runaways. This way he thinks he’s takin’ us home!”

“I’d never have thought of that!” I whispered back.

“Well, don’t congratulate me yet, we’ve only gotten away, we haven’t found a safe place to bide our time yet!”

We arrived at our location just as the sun was rising. Our driver left us at the main street after a promise from us to return to our mistress then he went to offload his milk.

I looked around. The main street was waking up already. People were outside their shops setting out their wares and a few early customers were hurrying about their wares.

“Is this a good place to stay?” I asked. “Far enough away but close enough to go back?”

“I think so.” Frankie said.

“Then we need to find a place to stay.” I said. “And then some work… how does one go about finding work?”

Frankie sighed. “No, we can’t find lodgings until we have work. An’ don’t mention it being only temporary . A good lodger is a reliable one, one who makes little fuss, earns an honest and regular wage and will pay it week after week.”

“Well, lets find honest work then. How does one go about it? What do we need to do?”

“Find someone with work that needs doin’. They’ll also want someone who ain’t about to skip town—”

“So don’t go telling them it’s only temporary either?”

“No, we don’t. Even if their work is only for a few days they’d rather that be on their terms so best make them think we’re here to stay a while.”

“What’s the best way to do that?”

“Well, to have an address for a start.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said! Now lets take a look around, eyes and ears open.”

We walked down the main street, past a servant talking to the butcher past the grocer and the grocer’s boy. Past the two street urchins whose game had been put on pause while they helped a third boy catch a chicken. There was a lady outside the drapers who frowned at us and a man setting out books outside a small, dark store.

“What do ye think yers doin’?” We spun at the cross voice but it wasn’t addressed to us but rather at a young man and woman who’d been enjoying each other’s company just outside the local on the corner.

“Oh, hello Mrs B.” The man said. “Top o’ the mornin’ an’ all tha’”

“Yer jist shut yer blitherin’” She said, pulling the man away from the girl.

“Mornin’ Mrs Beats.”  The young woman said.

“An don’t yer mornin’ me either. Dallyin’ on the street wi’ some boy washed in on the last tide?”

“Oh Mrs B. I’m more than tha’!” The young man protested. “Sides, she’s my sweet girl, Molly ain’t she!”

“It’s not proper!” The old woman scolded. “I run a reputable establishment, I should ‘ave known ye was no a no good gel when I took you in, no better than ye should be if you ask me! I won’t ‘ae people says I tooks in harlots ff the streets. Ye can be findin’ another place to sleep me girly because there won’t be a room in my house fur ye tonight!”

“Who wants to stay in your old boardin’ ‘ouse anyway?” The young woman yelled back. “There’s rats, an’ those that run on four legs as well! There’s room in the pub for me, until Jim finds a place, that is! He’s my young man!”

“Well I won’t ‘ave that behaviour under my roof so yer better clear out your things before tonight! I won’t ‘ave it that I won’t!” The grumpy old woman stormed off leaving the young lovers giggling.

“Well!” I said.

“They’re often like that.” Frankie said. “It’s cos they can be held responsible for the immorality of their lodgers, if they’re young. But youknow what this means?”

“What?” I asked.

“Lodgings that want fillin’”

“Lodgings first then?”

“No, but we could have an address to give to an employer, come on!”

We followed the woman across the street and watched to see what house she entered.

It was a small, dark house with the entrance set back from the rest of the row making it seem all the more dismal.

 

“Well, it’s as good as can be expected.” Frankie said. “Come on, lets see if we can find work.”

We turned and continued our way down the street.

Only temporary. I told myself. Only temporary. Soon Jo and Henri could help us and in the meantime I just had to keep on going.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five: Into the night

Author’s Notes: Thanks again to all my readers for your support! I’m getting close to 4,000 total views for this blog which is just… wow! (for me!)

If anyone still wants to ask me any questions, please feel free!  They’ll all be answered soon.

I hope you all enjoy this update, I worked really hard on the pictures and they’re the result of my pose folder exploding due to a pose CC binge, hehe.

 

“We’re doomed.”

“I don’t want to be doomed.” I didn’t know who the watcher was, but he had a familiar look about him when I’d seen him earlier. Who was he? Where had I seen him before? Had I seen him before? Who was he watching and why? What did he want with  us? I remembered what Henri had said, just to sit tight and not do anything or things could get worse. There was something about our names that affected Miss Jane just after she’d seen The Watcher out. And Frankie, she didn’t know who the watcher was but he frightened her. Could things be about to be getting worse? Where would he take us? If he was going to help us then why would Miss Jane lock us up to prevent escape? She could have said nothing and we’d still have been here in the morning. So it must be something bad.

“That’s the thing, Miss, if you’re not happy where you are or where you’re headin’ you’ve got to take the bull by the horns and get yourself out. No one else is going to do it for you. Use your head and do what you can, that’s the trick. Just get out.”

The conversation I’d had with Tomas came back to me like he was beside me speaking the words.

I’m not happy where I am, that’s for sure. I don’t like where things are heading? But how to get out? Use my head.

I paced the room.

Get out, just get out. How to I get out? No stairs, they’re blocked with the trapdoor. No windows. Think think think! Frankie is right, we’re doomed!

“Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage,rage against the dying of the light.”

No, we’re not doomed. We’re not. I can’t give up. Think! I’m not where I want to be, not going where I want to b going, stuck in an attic room—

“If ever you find yourself locked in an attic room just remember that.” The words from Michael’s letter came to me and I tried to block back the rush of happy memories that caused my eyes t pick with teas. I had to focus on what my mind was trying to remember. If ever I found myself locked an attic room, well, that’s just where I was!

What did he say, think, Bobbie, think!

“But where did that leave us? I’ll tell you where, locked in an attic room. We were in a fix, that’s for sure! We’d been marched up there and escape was hopeless for it would rouse the teachers and that would take us right out of the frying pan and into the fire. Now, I’m not the sort of boy to panic and neither is Jimmy, but once we were all locked in there… well, we had an uncertain future that held nothing but trouble for us. Toulin, however, reacted differently. He worked his way around the small room, tapping at the walls and pressing his ear up against the boards.”

The words flooded back and I followed the directions, tapping the walls.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asked.

“I don’t exactly know, but I might be saving us both!” I said. Suddenly, my tapping sounded different.

“That’s hollow!” Frankie said, leaping to her feet for the first time since we’d been locked in.

“Soon he found what he was looking for and pulled out his penknife.”

“I need something like a penknife!” I said. Frankie took a knife from our meager kitchen supplies

“Jimmy and I soon joined him and together we pried the board loose…”

“Here, this will go easier.” Frankie fetched the fire poker and soon we’d pried the boards loose revealing the ceiling space behind.

“Many dormer windows aren’t windows.” I said. “They’re added on the outside so the house looks even but it doesn’t mean the entire roof space is filled with rooms.”

“If ever you find yourself locked in an attic room just remember that. Out the window, down the most obliging drainpipe I’ve ever encountered and the three of us (or Jimmy and I, at least) were safe in our beds before the waking Bell.”

“We might be able to get out.” Frankie said.

“Yes. With any hope. It’s all gone to plan so far.”

We slipped through into the space on the other side of the wall and I looked for a shimmer of light. Fortunately it was a full moon and we made towards it. Sure enough, we found ourselves face to face with a dormer window.

“Dare we?” Frankie said.

“Can’t stay here.” I said.

“Well, pardon me for sayin’ so but we can’t escape with nothing but what we stand up in. We don’t have much but it’s more than we’ve got on us.”

I agreed, and back to our room we sped and we pulled the sheets off our bed. Onto them we divided up what we wanted to take. Our clothes (such as we had.) and our food and a few other things besides. My book made it in, and my photograph of Mother and Father. We tied up the corners and made two haversacks then headed back to the window.

“There’s no turning back if we go out.” Frankie said. “It’s a harsh world out there, Bobbie, you have no idea.”

“Is it better to lie back and let The Watcher do with us what he will?”

“To do nothing or to be brave, both are a risk.”

“Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, Rage against the dying of the light.” I quoted. To stay seemed to be to give up, to flee was action.

“Then rage we will.” Frankie said.

We were lucky, the window was one that opened, though we had to prop it up with a stick of firewood. Frankie climbed out first then I followed behind.

“Now how to get down.” Frankie said. “Escaping isn’t any good if we’re trapped on a rooftop! That’s just hiding.”

“down the most obliging drainpipe I’ve ever encountered”

“We need to get to the edge of the roof and look for a drainpipe to climb down.” I said.

“Well, lets have a look for one.”

“Careful!” I cautioned her as she moved towards the edge of the mock-balcony we were on. The railing around the edge was only knee hight, if she fell… I stood back and held onto her just in case while she looked down.

“No drainpipe here.” Frankie reported back. “But I can see a way to get lower down.”

To our left was another flat bit of roof but it was one story below. Fortunarly the sloped roof above us extended down below the level we were at now. Frankie tossed out bundles to the flat roof below then we swung ourselves up onto the roof abive and carefully slid down its slope until we were hanging off the edge by our hands. That left us only a few feet to drop as silently as we could next to our bundles.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard.” I said.

“There’s still no drainpipe here.” Frankie said. “But, see this sloping roof here? It goes right down to the roof of the scullery, that flat bit there. If we’re careful, we might be able to slide down to it.”

“I don’t know…” I said. “It looks like a long way—”

“Well, we can’t go back up. I’ll go first, you see how I do it and follow.”

My heart thumped in my throat as we approached the edge. Do not go gentle… rage… be brave Bobbie, be brave. I gripped Frankie’s hand, trying to keep calm. The last thing either of us wanted was sweaty palms.

I held her hands as she climbed over the railing.

She planted her feet against the wall below and slowly walked down as far as she could then jumped onto the sloped roof below. She slid.. Too far, no! She managed to stop just in time and while she skidden across roof tiles she managed to swing herself over onto the flat roof above the scullery.

“Nothing to it!” She called up to me. “Toss me the bundles. Then follow yourself.”

Tossing her the bundles was the easy part. My heart in my throat, I held onto the railings and swung myself over.

Can’t go back up, I repeated Frankie’s words to myself. I walked myself down until my arms could reach no further. Come on Bobbie, I said to myself. Where’s that bit of highland courage. Just let go. Right, now. Right, on the count of three, One… Two… Three…

With that I dropped. The roof slid from beneath my feet and I skidded—

“Bobbie!” Frankie held out her hands and I grasped them just in time for her to help pull me onto the flat roof.

“You’re right.” I said, heart still thumping in my throat. “Nothing to it.”

Frankie grinned at me.

There was no railing here so we approached the edge of the roof on our hands and knees and there was our drainpipe, looking not at all like a sturdy ladder against the wall.

“Do you think it will take our weight?” I asked.

“Looks sturdy, but there’s only one way to find out.”

“Well, if a boy can do it then so can I!” I tried to sound more confident than I was to trick myself as much as Frankie. Just a bit of the old Highland courage would do the trick.

“I’ll go first, I’m the lightest.” Frankie said and before I could stop her she swung her legs off the edge of the roof.

“Careful!” I called out.

“It seems sound.” Frankie said. Slowly she descended.

I swung over the edge of the wall. It did seem sturdy enough…

Slowly I began my climb down.

The relief I felt once my feet touched solid ground was indescribable.

We gathered up our bundles, took each others hands, and ran. We didn’t want to risk the gate so we went to the corner of the yard furtherest away from the house.

There was a brick wall that, when she took a running jump at, Frankie was able to pull herself up on.

She then turned and helped me climb up before we both jumped down to the other side. Then we were off running again and soon came to the fence that surrounded the school.

Frankie gave me a boost up.

I climbed to the top of the fence and threw our bundles to the ground on the other side.

I then reached down and helped Frankie up and we both climbed over and dropped safely to the other side.

“Well, we’ve done it.” I said.

“We’ve only just begun.” Frankie said.

“Where, what do we do now?” I hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “We need somewhere to hide until Jo and Henri can help us, and some more food to eat in the meantime.”

“We’ll need lodgings and a job, is what we need.” Frankie said. “And not too close because if people are looking for us…”

“So we need to get moving then.” I said.

“Yes. We need to get walking.” Frankie said.

And so we walked on into the night, not knowing where we were going or what would become of us.

Frankie was right, we’d only just begun.

 

Ask the Author

I thought I’d open up this post to any questions people have. About my story, about me, about the world the story is set in, anything you like. I might not answer all the questions but feel free to ask away!

I might use them to write an about me page or I might make a post with some answers. Maybe no one has any questions but if you do this is your chance to ask them!

 

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Watcher

The morning came all too soon and I found I was behind my work from the get-go.

Once the fires were done I simply dashed to the woodshed. I was lucky Gladys hadn’t come for the wood already!

“Mornin’!” Tomas greeted me “What’s up?” He asked with a grin.

“I came for the wood of course, could you please give me a hand? I’m running a little late”

“Already done.”

“What?”

“It’s already been taken in.”

“Oh, Tomas, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me, I didn’t do it.”

“Who did?”

“That friend of yours.”

“Frankie?” When on earth had she found the time to slip away and do that?

“No, from upstairs. The pretty one with fair hair and blue eyes.”

“Jo?!”

“Jo.”

“She never!”

“She did! Come down this mornin’ when I was only just started readying it. Said she just come out for some exercise and thought she’d make herself useful.”

“Well, that catches me up, I’m not running late any more! Jo, well I never! I’ve never known her to even get up on time, let alone early!”

“I’ll walk you back to the house.” Tomas offered.

“Thank you.” I said.

We saw the postman stop on the way and Tomas ran to meet him to take the letters from the first delivery.

“Might as well be useful.” He said, but he looked through them and a grin spread to his face as he pulled one out. “Here!” He handed the rest of the bundle to me and tore it open.

He didn’t take long to read it but he gave a cheer and spun me around.

“What is it?” I asked. “Good news?”

“Yes, and I have to tell someone, but you must promise not a word to anyone. Not now not never.”

“Cross my heart!”

“I’ve just been accepted into night classes.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’d loose my position if anyone found out, but I can’t stay here for the rest of my life. I’ve not got much educationbut I can read and write and figure well enough and I’ve a quick mind, that I know. But you don’t get nowhere if you don’t have the education. One day I could go in for a clerk or something. Anything, just not here! I’ve been saving up my wages for years, you see, I never wanted to stay where I was. That’s the thing, Miss, if you’re not happy where you are or where you’re headin’ you’ve got to take the bull by the horns and get yourself out. No one else is going to do it for you. Use your head and do what you can, that’s the trick. Just get out.”

Tomas and I parted ways at the back door and I set about my daily tasks. Tomas’ happiness must have been contagous because I felt a lot better than I had when I’d woken.

Some days there was a lot of work to be done in the afternoons. Other days there was more. But every once in a while there was an afternoon that left just enough time for a sit down and a cup of tea at three o’clock, even for the likes of Frankie and me. This was one of those days.

But the Devil makes work for idle hands, As Mrs Roberts told us, and she sent us out on an errand. Going out required a fresh apron so we had to change out of our soiled ones.

Once cleaned up and presentable we took a shortcut across the entrance hall and who should come out of the front parlor but Miss Jane and  gentleman!

Frankie and I froze, knowing we’d be in trouble for taking a short cut but Miss Jane was showing the gentleman out, and wasn’t too polite about it either so she didn’t see us. I got a good look at him and wasn’t sure he was a gentleman at all. His hat and waistcoat told he was, as did the glint of gold from his watch chain and his monocle but his suit was of quite a lower class and his tie was all wrong.

“Come on!” I whispered to Frankie as soon as Miss Jane’s back was too us. “Lets slip into the kitchen while she can’t see!”

Frankie did not move, she just stared at Miss Jane.

“Come on!” I grabbed her hand and we just made it in the kitchen. “You almost got us caught, what is it?”

“Nothing… I just thought—” Frankie shook her head. “No, nothing.”

“Now, somethings up, you tell me right away Francesca Cooper!” I mock scolded her.

“What did you call her!” Miss Jane had at that moment entered the kitchen and was frowning down at us.

“If you please Miss Jane.” Frankie said. “It’s just my name, I know I’m Frankie below stairs but Bobbie was just pretending to be cross with me so she used my full name, she didn’t mean anything pretentious by it!

“Bobbie?”

“Oh, I mean Bertha, I beg your pardon Miss Jane.

“Bobbie Hilton?”

“Y—yes?” I said, but Miss Jane wasn’t addressing me. She was looking from me, to Frankie and back to me again.

“Bobbie, Roberta Hilton. Bobbie Hilton. Frankie. Francesca Cooper.” The only word I could think of to describe the look on her face was to say she was flabbergasted. Miss Jane’s face must have been what they had in mind when they came up with the word in the first place!

“I— I—” With that Miss Jane turned on her heel and strode out the door back into the entrance hall.

“Well I never!” I said. “What on earth could that have been about? But come on, we need to get away or we’ll be late getting back and will go hungry again tonight!”

 

 

Our errand didn’t take us long and we hurried back. We returned to the kitchen to find it empty but for Gladys.

“Where ‘ave you two been!” She burst out, her obvious anxiety bringing out her Highlander accent all the more strongly.

“Mrs Roberts sent us—”

“Never mind that, there’s no time!” She knelt down and lowered her voice. “I don’t know what you’ve done but list—” The kitchen door opened.

“Ah, they’re back, are they?” Miss Jane strode through.

“I— Yes Miss Jane. I was just about to fetch you.” Gladys threw us a look and I got the impression that had been exactly what she hadn’t been about to do. My stomach felt sick.

“You naughty children!” Miss Jane yelled at us. “Straight to your room, now!”

“But Mrs Roberts sent us out!” I cried, but Miss Jane would have none of that.

She grabbed our arms and pulled us out of the kitchen and right into the front entrance hall. “But she did!” I explained. “We’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Oh yes you have, upstairs, now!”

“But what have we done?”

“You’ve been very naughty little girls and I saw a man today and he is to come back tomorrow to take you away forever!”

“NO!” With a shriek Frankie twisted away from Miss Jane’s Grip and made for the front door.

“Run!” I didn’t know what was happening but I’d heard the fear in Frankie’s scream.

But Miss Jane was too quick for her and before Frankie reached the door Miss Jane grabbed her and pulled her back.

“Come with me!” She yelled as she pulled Frankie up the stairs.

“Run Bobbie!” Frankie called back to me, but before I could thing where to run too Miss Jane had me thrown over her shoulder and was marching my up the next staircase. Frankie pulled at Miss Jane’s legs but she, the faithful little thing, did not run while I was in the enemy’s clutches.

Miss Jane must have realized this as she continued to carry me through the servant’s halls and corridors. Finally we reached the room that contained the twisting stairs up to our own little attic room.

“You can’t make me go up there!” Frankie Screamed as Miss Jane alighted the stairs. Frankie threw herself at Miss Jane’s Legs trying to pull her down.

Miss Jane dumped me on the stairs in front then turned, grabbed Franked and dragged her up the stairs and pushed her to where I was. Then she grabbed me again and forced her way up, pushing Frankie ahead of us.

Next thing I found myself on the floor of our room with all the breath whooshed out of me.

“Bobbie!” Frankie ran to help me up.

“You won’t leave this room until tomorrow, you bad, wicked girls! Then the man will come and take you away from here!”  Miss Jane stepped back down the stairs.

“Nooooooo!” With a, anguished cry Frankie launched herself across the room but with a thump a trapdoor I’d never seen before slid across the top of the stairs sealing us off. Frankie grabbed at it but with a clunk a bolt underneath slid into place and Frankie may have well been pounding upon the solid floor for all it budged.

“Frankie!” I raced to her and threw my arms around her. “Whatever have we done? What man, who is he?”

“It’s the man.” She sobbed. “It’s him!”

“Who? What man?”

“The watcher. I don’t know who he is but I’ve see him so many times, peering in the windows and hanging around. I always hide because he reminds me of something but I don’t know what. Something bad. I saw him again today, He was the one Miss Jane was showing out when we were in the entrance hall.”

“But what has he to do with us?”

“I don’t know and I don’t like to know. But if he’s in with Miss Jane then it can’t be better than here, can it?”

“I don’t know.”

“No, I expect you don’t know. Oh Bobbie. There’s far worse situations for a girl than as a scullery maid under people like Miss Jane and Mrs Roberts.”

“But if you’re not— if we’re not registered with the agency, then there will be nothing to protect us here. Like what Henri said with food and wages an—”

“There’s worse that can happen to a girl than not enough food and wages.” Frankie hugged her arms over her knees. “And if we’re not registered with anyone, there’s no one to notice if we go missing. To wonder where we are and what we’re doing. And if they are, well, people go missing. Girls, in our situation. Sometimes. It’s why I always hid from him.

“I—” I thought back to this morning. “He spoke to Miss Jane then just after that something about our names made her hurry off.”

“Maybe he was asking for us, making a deal to take us away but—”

“Take us away where?”

“There’s all sorts of bad work out there. They want new workers all the time.”

“But who is they?”

“Bad men.”

“Are you talking about slaves?” Frankie was right, I didn’t know what ill could befall a girl in the world.

“Maybe. But what use is it wandering now? There’s nothing we can do, no hope. We’re locked in here, an attic room with no windows, no way down, the chimney’s too narrow, I’ve thought about that already, no hope of escape. Whatever he wants with us… we’ve got no choice. We’re doomed, Bobbie, Doomed.” And with that she buried her head in her arms and her tears came as a flood.

 

 

A Report to a supervisor

Interview request approved. Proprietress unavailable but 2IC willing to meet at 1500 tomorrow.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three: Francesca Cooper

Author’s Note: Please excuse the random costume change near the end of this chapter. I had to use reset sim and didn’t notice it changed her clothing until a few days ago!

I soon begun to understand the natural order of things downstairs. We all had our set jobs, but if you were busy you’d pass some work, naturally your most disliked chores, down to the next person beneath you in the hierarchy.

Of course, Frankie and I were right at the bottom.

We washed plates, we scrubbed pots, we polished floors, we kept the fires in the kitchen going and a hundred things besides.

The work soon reinforced what I’d learned the day I’d cleaned the art room with Jo, Henri and Marjorie in what seemed to be another life; cleaning wasn’t hard, but it was hard work. Frankie sometimes helped with the rooms upstairs, but I never ventured into what I now had to call “a young lady’s room”. I think this was partly because they didn’t want me talking to my old friends and partly because I was far too low down now to be considered suitable for a “young lady’s room.” Even Frankie was only considered fit for the younger girl’s rooms and only when absolutely necessary.

We didn’t even take our meals in the kitchen with the other servants. We, the lowest of the low, ate on a little table in the scullery.

There was a lot to learn, and not just about the work. I had to lean new ways of behaving and speaking to people. To eat fast when we had our paltry meals rather than to take dainty bites in between conversation. I even had to look at people different. I saw almost nothing if my classmates at first and never got the chance to speak to any of them. I began to understand how Frankie, having spent most of her life in the scullery, didn’t know how to speak to us “young ladies” when she first came. Frankie tried to be as patient as she could in teaching me everything but I earned more than one cuff about the ear from Mrs Roberts. That was another thing new to me.

Within a week my dress was no longer tight. The hard work aside, I wasn’t eating half what I used to. If we were late for meals, even if it was because our work had kept us, then we didn’t eat and there was no kind servant to sneak you up a feast to your bedroom.

One day Frankie and I were almost finished the entrance hall floor when Mariah and Valerie happened to walk by. It was the first time I’d seen either of them since… since my world had turned upside down and inside out.

“I don’t know what’s happened to the standard of domestic help.” Mariah said in a voice that carried to us. “It’s dropped dramatically of late.” I ducked my head so she couldn’t see my face reddening.

“Just ignore her.” Frankie muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

“Trying too.” I muttered back.

“I say, you two missed a spot all the way over here. Come clean it at once.” Mariah demanded.

“Just do as she says and don’t argue back.” Frankie whispered to me as we stood. “She’ll tire of it eventually.”

So she did. Unfortunately for us she tired of it after we’d redone almost the entire hall.

Naturally we were late to our lunch and had to set about our afternoon chores with grumbling stomachs.

Some days there was a lot of work to be done in the afternoons. Other days there was more, and this was one of those other days. The range wasn’t drawing well and and it was all hands to the pump getting the evening meals out on time meaning our usual miserable supper took the form of a few hurried mouthfuls of hard bread and cheese.

We climbed the stairs that evening, long after every one else was abed. My back ached, my knees were rough and sore, my hands were red and blistered and felt like they’d never be soft again.

“Tell me it gets better.” I said as Frankie and I wound up the rickety stairs to our little attic room.”

“I could.” She said. “But…”

She didn’t need to finish. It didn’t get better. Was this my life now? How had it come to this? I thought of every time I’d turned my nose up at food. The scone that had broken, the slightly mushy berries, the fatty bit of the meat and a million other times besides. The times where I could have, should have been in bed but laid awake or lit my lamp to get an extra half-hours reading. Oh, what wouldn’t I do for an extra half hour sleep a night, a broken scone, some mushy berries and the fatty bit of the meat.

Frankie had some salt and grains squirreled away in our room for emergencies. If we were very, very hungry, we could cook little hard, flat, tasteless biscuits on the hearthstones. We didn’t want to do this too often as we could only take supplies, including firewood, up in small amounts when it wouldn’t be noticed and Frankie wanted to stockpile a good supply for winter.

We reached our room and I collapsed on our bed.

“I’m too hungry to sleep and I’m too sleepy to try cooking something.” I said. Our fire was, of course, unlit and after lighting it we’d have to wait for it to be hot enough to cook anything.

“Well, you can start by changing into your night dress. That dress will be fit for nothing in the mornin’ if you sleep in it!”

I sighed and sat up. She was right of course, and we still had to clean our aprons and collars. We had two apiece but if we were to venture out of the scullery then clean ones had to be donned. This meant that any dirt had to be cleaned off at night and left to dry for the next day.

We changed into our nightdresses and I set to work washing our collars and spot cleaning our aprons and Frankie worked on the fire.

We were both too exhausted to talk so when the stairs beneath us creaked under a footstep we both heard it clearly.

“What was that?” Frankie whispered. Was someone coming to check on us? Would we get in trouble for our fire? Would our pilfered food be found?

I made my way to the edge of the stairwell and looked down. Four points of white light looked up at me.

“Bobbie, is that you?”

“Jo!”

It was! She reached the top of the stairs and I threw my arms around her. Henri too.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you two!” I said.

“I’ve been wanting to come up every night.” Jo said. “We only worked up the courage tonight, but look, we’ve come bearing gifts!” Jo opened a large handkerchief with a selection of goodies inside. Biscuits, fruit and a tin of sweets. “The sweets are from Henri.” Jo said. “But I promise the next I get I’ll save for you!”

Frankie and I saved our grains and feasted on fruit and biscuits. Jo and Henri waited until we’d finished eating before they talked.

“I thought you might be hungry.” Jo said. “I can’t imagine you get as good dinners below stairs as we do upstairs.”

“You have no idea.” I said.

“But now the important news.” Henri said. “I’ve written to my brother, I don’t know where to reach my parents right now. I’ve told him everything about it and I know he’s far away at the moment but he knows people, so he might be able to help.”

“And I’ve written to Michael, the very night everything happened, in my bed by the light of a candle. I put blankets against the door so the light didn’t show underneath it because Miss Jane was prowling like anything! I didn’t even wait to put it in the school post at breakfast, I got up early and placed it in Glady’s hand when she came in the morning and she made sure it made the first post. I’ve had a reply already. He says that our home is out of quarantine, has been for almost a week, can you fancy that? Nobody ever told me, I should think they would have! I’ve written home today and between Mother and Father and Henri’s brother and her parents, when we reach them, we’ll sort something out. Things are not right and we’ll fix them, for you too Frankie.”

“What can you fix for me?” Frankie asked. “Do you know of another position?”

“No.” Henri said.  “But I wrote to my brother when the mailboat strike ended and I had a reply the other day. I mentioned you—”

“But why?”

“Because you’re not registered with the agency and you should be as they protect you and make sure you receive proper wages and days off and get treated right. Don’t worry, he won’t say anything about you to anyone, but he says to hold tight for now and he asked me a few questions which I answered in my last letter—”

“Including what your name could be.” Jo cut in.

“My name…?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” I sat forward.

“My name’s Frankie!” Frankie said. “Short for Francesca.”

“But you don’t know your last name.” Henri said.

“Don’t have one.”

“Yes you do. Everyone does. My brother said a baby born on a big estate to unknown parent will be given the name of the estate or sometimes the family that own it instead of the name of he father. Sort of like you belong to the state.”

“So you are either Francesca Cooper or Francesca Braklesie. Probably.”

“Francesca Cooper.” Frankie said. “You thought she was the daughter of the Coopers’. I thought she didn’t exist. Is it me, and if so, how and why?”

“Maybe.” Henri said. “Maybe you’re Francesca Braklesie-”

But Frankie was shaking her head. “I’m older than Braklesie estate. When the Coopers moved there it was just the Coopers’ winter house. It didn’t have a name until they decided to stay there.”

“Francesca Cooper.”  Said. “I like thinking you have a real name.”

“Yes, well, my brother says don’t do or say anything, just sit tight and he’ll investigate what he can without making too much noise and I think Bobbie will have to do the same. Lady D’Winter hasn’t registered you, has she?” She asked me.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, then, I think you’d know if she had. We’ll see what my brother says, we shouldn’t cause any trouble because we don’t want things getting worse for you.”

“I don’t know that they could.” I said. “But tonight they’ve sure got better!”

“Well, that’s something. Now Jo and I should get back to bed, I don’t know what will happen if we’re caught up here!”

“We’ll keep you posted.” Jo said. “We’re doing everything we can and you just need to keep strong.” She threw her arms about me.

“Thank you.” I said. “We need to get to bed too, we wake up even earlier than you do!”

“Goodness, do you really?” Jo said.

“Who do you think brings the wood in in the morning?” I asked. “Tomas chops it but I have to carry it into the house.”

“Well I never.” Jo said. “That just won’t do at all. No wonder you were so hungry! I imagine carrying wood is hungry work!”

“Jo, lets go!” Henri said and Frankie and  I watched as the two wound their way back down the stairs.

“Oh! I forgot” Jo ran back up. “I know how much you like reading, so I brought you this!” She thrust a book into my hands then caught up with Henri waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Soon I heard the sound of the door below softly close.

I looked down at the book in my hands. It was a poetry book. One of mine, but not one I’ve read much I opened it randomly and read.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

— Dylan Thomas

I didn’t recognise the poet’s name.

I flipped to the front page and saw the inscription.

To Darling Roberta, many wishes on her second birthday. With lots of love from the entire Cooper family.

Of course, another present from the Coopers. Strange thing to give a toddler a book of poetry. I closed the book and put it beside our bed.

I thought I’d never sleep that night, but as soon as my head touched the (rather lumpy) pillow my exhaustion took over.

 

A Report to a supervisor

Extra training on dress, customs and manners have been successful in assimilating to the local culture. Have requested interview with the proprietress of the suspected local and am awaiting confirmation. Have purchased clothing so to blend in better than when in clothing issued by HQ. Shirts, vest, ties and the various trinkets necessary were easy to obtain. A suit is made for each man on request and there is a whole profession devoted to this task! This requires leaving an identity, location and other personal data which is not possible. I have purchased a suit from a shop which sells those once worn by others to avoid this issue. I include the invoice