It was pouring rain in London. Isabelle was soaked right down to her socks. Her dirty blonde hair clung to the sides of her face as she maneuvered her way through the alley, watching puddles forming and being careful not to step in them. A hiss escaped her as a piece of metal - old TV antennae, she saw immediately, looks to be in working condition, though worn against the weather, the owner most likely just got a new one and was careless, throwing this one away - scraped against her side. Her green sweater ripped, exposing her skin to the cold even more
She was scrawny, small and thin for a girl of her age. Her sweater and dark blue pants were too big for her, she had to tie a rope around her waist to keep everything up. With the newly ripped hole, she grew colder by the minute but she didn't panic.
Better than a dull children's home.
She came upon a street, relief filling her chest. She had to find a cafe. A restaurant. A cook, or waitress, would take pity on her. It was usually the mothers who were the most sympathetic, but just about anyone would do, especially in these conditions. A poor little orphan, homeless and out in the bleeding rain. That had to be good enough to get shelter, food, and possibly hot chocolate if she faked a sneeze until the weather cleared. It wasn't the nicest thing to do but then again Isabelle was fully aware she wasn't the nicest person.
Hearing footsteps approach her from the left, the gears in her head kicked into gear. Who would be out in this type of weather? Certainly not anyone out for a simple stroll, even people who liked rain would consider this too much for comfort. Someone out to get something would make more sense, but it would have to be something needed. Groceries? If that was the case, it was more likely a woman than a man, considering how society forced itself to work, but she didn't enjoy jumping to conclusions.
"My goodness! Sweetheart, what are you doing out in this rain?" Looking to her left as she came fully out from the alleyway, she saw an older looking woman with blonde hair. She was dressed in appropriate clothing for the rain, a black - no not black, just a really dark purple - umbrella in her right hand and two grocery bags in her left.
She hadn't expected to be right about everything.
The woman had jewelry on, it looked to be gold but it might've been fake. Hard to tell from the rain and the distance. Under the coat she wore was a black button-up shirt with a white lace collar with white polka-dots. She also wore a very light purple skirt. It looked nice on her.
"Shouldn't you be with your parents?" The woman asked, taking a step closer. Isabelle was unsure what her eye color or exact age was, as the rain was very persistent about getting in her eyes and blurring her vision.
"I have none, ma'am." She had spoken this line so many times it came out of her mouth in a monotone voice. "I'm an orphan, my parents died in a fire some years ago."
The woman looked shocked, to no surprise, and instantly came closer. Catching sight of her ripped pants and sweater, she looked even more distressed. Isabelle could never understand empathy.
"Oh, you poor dear.. Have- have you become separated from the children's home? Do you need me to take you back to it?"
The girl shook her head, keeping her green eyes locked on the woman's eyes. "No, ma'am. I don't belong to a children's home. I live on the streets." Once again, this came out monotone. It was simply a fact of her life now, it really didn't matter all that much.
The elder female had a large mix of emotions of her face - concern, worry, almost fear. Slowly, adjusting the bag in her arm, she went beside her and took a hold of Isabelle's arm. The young female almost flinched at the sudden contact, unused to it after so long. Still, as much as the touch was not welcomed, it was gentle, more like an optional guide than a forceful one.
"What's your name, dear? I'm Mrs. Hudson."
"Isabelle Rogers, ma'am."
"Well.." Mrs. Hudson looked hesitant before she spoke, choosing her words carefully in her mind. "How would you like to come and live with me for now?"
For now. Indicating she'd have to leave sooner or later. A husband who doesn't like kids? Her green eyes flitted to the woman's left hand. No ring, but the skin is paler on her ring finger near the base. She had a husband, but something happened. She kept the name, she could be a widow. He died? But that couldn't be the only thing, she'd keep the ring on if that were the case. Maybe he did something to her or was in something he shouldn't have been in, so she has no sentiment for him.
Her eyes traveled to the grocery bags next. Too much food for one woman alone to eat, even with the possibility she's stocking up. She has to live with someone... Kids? She clearly has a kind demeanor, but she doesn't look like she has children and, even if she does, they'd be grown by now and out of the house or cooking for themselves. Flatmate is the next obvious choice, but why would she do that? She looks to be a woman who has enough money to afford her own place. Isabelle decided to just take a guess on it.
"Are you a landlady or maid?"
Mrs. Hudson tilted her head at the question, but answered. "Why, yes, I'm a landlady. How did you know that?"
"You're carrying too much food for only yourself, if you had kids - which I'm assuming you don't, but if you do - they would be old enough to feed themselves or they'd be out of the house. And you have no husband- Well, you don't anymore, he died a while ago, but the paleness from the ring is still there. Did he do something bad? I'm guessing so, considering you no longer wear the ring so it must not be sentimental."
The two looked at each other for a long time, or what seemed like a long time, before the elder said something the younger was almost surprised at.
"I think my tenants are going to like you very much."