A/N: I had this on my mind for ages and I've been dying to write it. I had so much fun with this chapter, creating this world and the characters. I will update as soon as I get back from holidays, which is in a bit more than four weeks, and the next chapter will give us Quinn's backstory.
I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it and please take a minute to leave me a review, they make me happy :)
Disclaimer: I do of course not own Glee or any of the characters
Sailor's Girl
18.06.1789 - Port of London
It would have been a beautiful sunrise, covering the Thames with gentle golden sparkles, but the small girl standing on the dock, watching an incoming ship, squinting her eyes, she couldn't see it. Too thick was the grey coal dust and the smoke from the taverns and squalid houses cowering in the back.
A boy in dirty clothes ran by, almost bringing the little brunette to fall, giving her an apologetic grin, showing off his tooth gaps. He was clutching two apples, an angry tradesman with an entirely red head hurrying after him, muttering words the little girl would certainly get spanked for using at home. She shook her head disapprovingly, she knew stealing was a very naughty thing, a thing which honest people like her family would never do, even though her stomach was rumbling and she was fed up with the watery soup her mommy had cooked for the last couple of weeks.
A hustle started a couple of hundred metres further down the port. The familiar sounds of men shouting and barrels being unloaded filled the early morning. The girl started to sprint by the factories, skillfully jumping over puddles of undefinable liquid and ducking out of the way of men three times her height, who already, or maybe still, stumbled around drunkenly.
Once she arrived at the pier where a ship had just pulled in, she stood stock still, watching intently every man who left the ship. There were huge ones, resembling the pirates from the stories her daddy's friends used to tell over their ale, when she was allowed to stay up with them, curled up in her dad's lap. Those men scared her, and she tried to avert her eyes, but never long enough to miss anyone coming on land. There were boys, not much older than her, with burned skin and eyes that had adventure glistening in them. Those boys she envied, already feeling the pull of freedom anyone seeing ships sail away daily will feel at times. But the man she was looking for, the man who had her frozen in place, unmoving, even when she was hollered at by the ship's cook, because she was standing in his way, he wasn't with them. The girl dropped her head, disappointment stinging sharply in her empty belly.
"Oy, look Bertha, ain't that Shelby's brat?"
The girl spun around. "Morning, Miss.", she greeted politely. Her mommy said it was important to have good manners, but the child wasn't too sure if that was true, afterall none of the sailors had them.
"Whatcha doin' here? This ain't no place for wee lil' gals!"
The large woman patted her head and she scrunched up her nose, annoyed at the gesture.
"I'm waiting for my daddy, though. He's late, y'know, he should be home already!"
She stomped her foot. The woman shook her head and muttered sadly: "Sailor's girl, ey. Always the same."
The girl didn't quite understand what she meant by that, maybe the woman was a bit dumb, a lot of the people here were, she knew, because she was very smart for a little girl, she could even read, her mommy taught her. She didn't wish to talk to the woman anymore anyways, so she curtsied and told her 'Bye'. People always laughed when she curtsied, but it made her feel like a lady and after she sang, she had to curtsey too, so it couldn't hurt to practice.
She was out of breath when she arrived at the door of their small flat. It had once been a stable, but now there was an inn, that also offered rooms for sleeping 'or for any other services', as the owner always added with a wink. It was one of the many mysteries of this place, the girl couldn't understand why anyone would pay an awful lot of money for a shabby bed if they didn't want to sleep.
Her mommy was sitting in the kitchen, her head resting in her hands.
"Rachel, here you are.", she said softly.
Rachel bent her head, getting ready to be told off for going out by herself and for getting her dress dirty. It was important to her mom that she was presentable, she didn't want her to look like a girl from the streets.
However, Shelby only reached out to brush her cheek lightly.
"I went to look for daddy.", the child apologized, she knew her mom would understand, she wanted Leroy back just as bad as Rachel did.
"Oh, honey.", the woman sighed. She looked tired and a lot older than a couple of weeks ago and she was too thin, but you could still see what a beautiful woman she must have once been.
"I need to talk to you about that."
Huge brown eyes stared up at her curiously, nothing but trust and innocence written in them.
"Daddy might still take a little while to come back, alright? I want him here too, but we can't always get what we want, hm?"
She tried to smile encouragingly at her daughter.
"And because we have to eat and you have to grow tall and strong mommy needs some money, okay? So I need to go and work tonight. I need you to be a big girl and stay home alone. Can you do that for me? I'll be back in the morning, I promise! Don't let anyone in, you hear?"
Rachel nodded frantically. She could help her mommy.
"What are you going to work as? Are you gonna be a sailor, like daddy?"
"No sweetie, women can't do that. I'm going to make some men happy, okay, and they give me money for that."
Tears glistened in Shelby's eyes as she softly stroked Rachel's hair over and over.
"Does that make you sad, mommy? You don't have to go!"
The tiny child hugged her mother tightly.
"No, no, I'm just sad I have to leave you alone. And we do need some food for your hungry little belly, don't we?"
Tears fell and were soaked up by Rachel's long brown locks.
"Are you gonna sing to them? To the men?" Rachel's eyes sparkled excitedly and she jumped up and down on Shelby's lap a bit. "Daddy always said it made him happy when I sang!"
The innocence of the question made Shelby sob. Her girl still only saw the good in the world. She never wanted this to end, but she knew it would be inevitable. Too soon it would get to her how broken the world that she was living in was.
"Something like that. Something just like that." She kissed her daughter's forehead. How could something so beautiful and pure be in this place? She thanked God every day for sending her an angel and prayed that he wouldn't let her fall into this hell the rest of them were inhabiting.
"I could do that, too!" Rachel loved singing, and she loved happy people. She could help her mom. "Please, mommy?"
Her eyes were wide and pleading. They broke Shelby's heart.
"No!", she screamed, startling her daughter, who was now crying as well. "Listen, my sweet little angel, I know you love to sing and you will sing, one day, you will be the greatest singer of them all, but you will never do what mommy does, okay? You will never ever do what I'll be doing tonight! Never. I promise you that, Rachel, I promise you will never have to. I promise I will always protect you, I promise you will always be as happy as you are now. And I want you to promise the same to me. Promise that you'll never make men happy like I do, promise that you'll be happy and promise that you'll always sing, please, please, never stop singing, okay?"
The words were frantic and laced with tears and sobs and it scared Rachel. She didn't understand what it was that made her mother so sad, but she could see that it was something incredibly important. So she promised everything her mother had asked from her and then let the tears flow quietly into the older woman's chest, safely enveloped in a comforting hug.
In the evening she watched her momma leave, tucked under a thin and scratchy blanked, still confused and a little bit scared, but also excited that her mom thought she was responsible enough to stay home all alone. She had gotten her goodnight kiss as usual and even a story. She had watched Shelby get ready, painting her face and putting on a red dress, with bows and lace. Rachel thought she looked like a princess, but her mommy had cried again when she had said that, so she kept quiet for the rest of the evening.
When she woke up in the morning Shelby was still asleep, her makeup and tears staining her face, her lost honour would have been visible for everyone but the little girl who quietly tiptoed around her not to wake her up. In the kitchen there was a glass of milk waiting for Rachel. She hadn't drunk milk in years. Happily she sipped on it and felt her stomach stop hurting for the first time in days.
18.06.1799 - Port of London
It was early morning and Rachel stood at the docks, watching out for incoming ships. It had become a ritual, there was a certain comfort in the daily routine of igniting a tiny burning flame of hope to have it trodden out as soon as all the sailors had come on land and Leroy wasn't with them again.
She knew that the barmaids whispered about her, some in ridicule, some with pity. She was the little girl who refused to grow up and realize that her father was gone, dead or simply not caring to return to a family he'd have to provide for.
There were still boys running around, fighting and stealing, but she didn't look down on them anymore. By the time her dad had been gone for two years and Shelby struggled to feed her more than water and a crust of bread, her law-abiding, honest side had to finally give in to the side that was screaming of hunger.
There had never been milk again after that one evening and now that she knew how her mother had gotten it, the thought of it made her feel sick. Shelby's profession had lost its mystery, as had the rooms beneath their flat.
Every day she pleaded for her mother to stay and every evening she left, with tears in her eyes and a kiss on Rachel's forehead. It was either that, or starve.
Sometimes Rachel wished she could have stayed that little girl forever, could have been happy forever, as she promised her mother. But reality caught up, washing over her, having her turn into a streetgirl who'd do anything for a piece of fruit. She grew up to have scars and a missing back tooth and she no longer owned a dress that wasn't ripped.
The only thing that hadn't changed, were her eyes. They had strangely kept the innocence of her childhood, they were still big and shining with promises the world seemed to somewhere hold for her. She was still waiting for her father to come back and make everything better and she still yearned for the adventure the salty air the ships brought with them held.
She turned around briskly when a young boy sweeping a deck whistled at her. He seemed like a child, fifteen at most, a year younger than her. His looks made her feel dirty and she quickly took off towards her home, shuddering with disgust at a world that made predators out of little boys and deserters out of daddies.
Shelby was lying on the couch, as always, she hardly got up before noon anymore. There was a bottle standing next to her, it must have been a bad night, it always was if she drunk to the point where she forgot to hide the bottle. Rachel grabbed it and slid it under the kitchen sink, careful to not make a noise. Then she tugged the blanket off her mother's shoulders to check for bruises under the smeared makeup. She didn't find any and sighed with relief. There was nothing more painful than treating her mother's wounds, seeing her leave for dark back alleys and desperate men at night all the same.
She combed her fingers through the thick brown strands sprawled out on the sheets.
"I'm so sorry!", she whispered. She told her every day, always when her mother couldn't hear. The guilt of not having kept her promise, of having turned sad, plagued her. She knew that every time Shelby saw the darkness in Rachel's eyes her own heart broke a bit more. She also knew that all this pain and the work was for her. It was, so she wouldn't have to sell her body, although young flesh paid better. It was, so that she would have a bed to sleep and some soup for dinner. Sometimes Rachel wished herself never born, maybe her mommy would be happier then, maybe Leroy would still be here. Shelby had told her she wasn't the reason for his leaving, she said he loved her, but she would even claim if she knew the opposite was true, just to comfort her child. Maybe she needed to believe it herself, so she wouldn't start to hate her own daughter for her misery.
Rachel covered Shelby up again and made her own bed. She tried to keep their home in order, it was the least she could do for her mother. She checked the bread bag, to see if there was anything left. There only was one thin, hard slice. Rachel put it on a plate and, ignoring her rumbling stomach and watering mouth, set it next to Shelby's bed. She was going to skip breakfast, she was strong enough to go another day without food, but she doubted her mother was. Her bones were showing and her once lively eyes sat alarmingly deep in their sockets.
"Rachie?" The woman's eyelids fluttered and she looked at her daughter.
"Mommy, eat that, please." Rachel handed her the plate carefully.
"Have you eaten already, honey?"
"Yes", Rachel lied.
"That's good, sweetie, very good." She smiled weakly. "Cm'ere, you!" She opened her arms and the younger Corcoran cuddled up to her, enjoying the safety this embrace falsely promised.
Shelby ate the bread, it was gone after only two bites, and Rachel could see her mother was still starving.
"Are you going to sing today, my angel?", Shelby asked.
Rachel nodded and smiled. She could sing in the bar below their flat once or twice a week. Sometimes it earned her a couple of pennies, sometimes all that came from it was the pleasure of forgetting all her sorrows and going up in what she truly loved doing. She liked the attention she got and the applause, but more than that, she loved the feeling of doing something that she had complete control over, that she was good at, outstanding even. It gave her life some kind of purpose. And above all else she sang for her mother, who once dreamed of becoming a singer, performing in the big entertainment areas of London. She never got there, running out of money all too quickly, falling in love with a sailor and never seeing the sparkling and beautiful side of the city again. But she still believed that her daughter would make it, her daughter with the perfect voice and the gorgeous face, who sounded like an angel. And Rachel was for sure not the one that would take her last pleasure from the woman.
Yes, she was going to sing that night, opening up with the music like she always did, shining and sparkling with the beauty and the happiness she could have known had destiny been kinder. She would change from the runaway sailor's daughter to a shining star, even if it was only for an hour. What she didn't know yet was that someone would fall deeply and madly in love with her, she had yet to see the hazel eyes that would turn her world and all she believed upside down.