Hello all! My God it's been a while. I know I promised you all the Sequel to Courage in January but exams happened and then coursework happened and then summer exams happened and I got serious writers block with it. It might be posted after this one if there is enough interest and people want it finished but you'll have to make do with this one for the time being ;)

Not sure where this came from but a few people asked if I could write a Ben/Nellie fic and as soon as I stopped trying to think of a plot for one, this came to mind :) It's a bit different to everything else I've written with multiple view points, hence the date and location headers at the top of each section to help you all (and me!) out. It is 100% un-beta-ed so all mistakes are 100% mine :) However I am looking for a beta so if anyone wants to be considered drop me a message and we can have a chat, preferably someone who has written for ST before :)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and as usual, drop us a review if you have time. Like it or not, let me know what you think.

Chapter 1 – What has become of us

~24th March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~

Nellie tugged her shawl harder, trying to pull it further round her shoulders but only succeeding in ripping apart the stitches that held the two edges of a large hole together. Biting her lip she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over her dirty cheeks. Life wasn't fair but crying wouldn't make a difference.

Her vision tear-blurred, she glanced up at the scene in front of her, crawling further into the corner where she was slumped when she saw her father take another drunken swing at her mother. The woman cried out, stumbling backwards when his fist made contact with her cheek and Nellie had to imagine she hadn't heard the sickening crack of breaking bone. Looking down at her older brother lying motionless on the other side of the room she wished with all her heart that he'd get up and fight back, protect her and ma from their father. But then that was what he had been doing, and all it had achieved was the almost empty whisky bottle being smashed over his head, knocking him out.

That was how all this had started. The pot of turnip soup had been placed on the fire to keep warm until father returned home, for dinner was never served until father got home, whatever time that may be. Their meagre dinner of soup and stale rye bread was the result of a further reduced income to the already struggling Turner family. Danny boy, Nellie's older brother, had been dismissed from the docks where he hauled baskets around all day when the company had been forced to make cut backs, leaving father's pitiful wage from the factory as their only source of money.

After the soup had been over the fire for an hour Ma had begun to get suspicious. She always had dinner ready for when father was due home, exactly 20 minutes after he finished work, allowing him time to gather his things and walk home. Father liked it when dinner was ready and waiting for him. It meant he didn't have to wait, and waiting made him angry.

Of course Ma knew where he was. He was at the pub drinking away his day's earnings. Once or twice she'd thought about going down there and dragging him home. But that wouldn't have made a difference to her, as if she had, the likelihood of him beating her dead would have been high, and then she wouldn't have seen the money anyway. So either way she was destined never to benefit from her husband's job. And that was why Danny boy's redundancy had been such a blow to the family, for it was his money that had put food on their plates and scraps of cloth stitched into clothes on their backs.

After the soup had been over the fire for three hours, Nellie had left their room, dashed down the steep wooden stairs and out the house, unable to stand the smell of hop soup when her belly ached from hunger so badly. They hadn't had a proper meal in weeks and although turnip soup wasn't a dish she enjoyed, it was filling and hot and that was enough for her when the cramps got bad. She had wandered aimlessly round the maze like streets of the St. Giles rookery for what seemed like hours, passing almost all the various types of people that had found themselves poor enough to end up here. A prostitute looked her up and down critically, taking her for competition before smiling charmingly at a drunken man in a sailor's coat and ripped trousers. Around the next corner a large man with a bulging belly had reached out for her, only to trip and fall to the floor where he stay, unmoving in the layer of shit and mud. A street hawker outside a rowdy sounding pub had offered her a sample of his sheet music. He'd said she could pay in other ways than money if she had none on her. Nellie had understood exactly what he'd meant so hurried on. She never ventured out into the streets of St. Giles at this time of night so, beginning to get frightened, she'd turned for home. She had no fear of missing dinner when she returned home, when her father came home late, he came home hours late.

When she finally got back to the cramped room they rented, it was still only ma and Danny boy, huddled together on the straw mattress they shared in the corner. Ma held out her other arm to Nellie and she ran over, taking comfort in the warmth of her mother. She'd buried her face in her shoulder, preferring the smell of dirt and sweat to the smell of soup.

When the door finally crashed open and father all but fell through it, the three of them had fallen asleep, only to be startled back to consciousness by the man's drunken shouting. Ma had quickly gotten up and shut the door behind him, steering him carefully towards the chair in the far corner, the only piece of proper furniture they still owned. He slumped down heavily, kicking off his boots and swaying precariously on the seat as he did so. Nellie had shuffled along the mattress and huddled up to Danny boy who wrapped his arm tightly round her shoulders, hoping he might have provided some protection from the scene in front.

Nellie had watched as ma ladled soup into a wooden bowl, only for her eye to land on the whisky bottle hanging from father's fingertips as she turned to face him. Shock and despair crossed her face. Nellie knew what this meant. Usually father drank beer all night, and when ma rooted through his trouser pockets after he'd passed out she could retrieve a few left over pennies, just about enough to buy the next evening's supper. This would not be happening tonight however.

Instead of gritting her teeth and ignoring it like she should have done, ma placed the soup down and lunged at the bottle in his hands, pulling it from his grasp. "Yer stupid stupid man! Der yer want us ter starve? Yer selfish bastard!" She had yelled, waving the almost empty bottle in his face.

His expression of drunken indifference had changed to blind anger in a matter of seconds, and finding his balance, he had shot forward, slapping ma across the face. In her moment of surprise, he had retrieved the bottle from her, raising it to his lips and downing most of what was left.

"How you 'ave the nerve to speak to me like that woman! Yer own 'usband! The man who puts food in yer belly. I should beat yer senseless fer yer words ter me yer ungrateful cow!" he had yelled, surprisingly coherently.

And that was when Danny boy had untangled himself from Nellie and lunged at father, reaching out for the bottle in his hand. If father hadn't noticed him out of the corner of his eye and made a swing for him Danny boy should have been able to restrain the man, for despite being only 16 he was already taller and broader than his father. However he was not as quick witted and, even when the older man was drunk he still had the advantage of speed.

Nellie had watched with horror as the bottle had come crashing down over her brother's head, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces that glinted in the dim light of the street lamp outside their grimy window. Danny boy cried out in pain before stumbling and falling at Nellie's feet. With a scream muffled behind her hand Nellie shot up and dashed across the room into the opposite corner as her father turned back on her ma. Nellie knew she should do something but couldn't. She was a petite 15 year old, made weaker still by malnourishment.

And that was when father had delivered the punch that she was sure had broken ma's cheekbone. Her scream of agony was something Nellie knew she would carry around with her forever.

Grabbing his wife by the shoulders, Nellie watched as her father threw her across the room, limp as a rag doll. She landed on the chair, the already feeble thing crumpling under her weight. With a last look around the room, her father stormed out, knocking over the pot as he went and spilling their dinner all over the rotten floorboards.

When the door had been slammed shut, Nellie glance around the room, wide eyed and terrified. Before she could stop it, tears came streaming down her face. She rolled up into a ball, burying her face in her arms and cried herself to sleep.

~25th March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~

A hand on her shoulder squeezing gently had woken Nellie and she had briefly wondered whether keeping her eyes closed and never opening them again would be the better option. However, her brother's soft voice had persuaded her to open them and when she did the sight that greeted her shocked her almost as much as the previous night's scenes.

His face was a mess of blood smeared with the grime already clinging to his skin and his hair was matted with congealed blood. Small cuts littered his forehead and hairline, some twinkling as the dawn light reflected off the glass fragments still lodged in them and others not. A small trail of fresh blood oozed down his left cheek, dripping off his chin and onto his shirt, blending in instantly with the dark, ever growing stain on his shoulder. He tried to smile reassuringly at her when he saw her staring but it turned into a grimace as the creases on his forehead disturbed one of the deeper looking wounds.

"Father didn't come 'ome las' night." He said, grabbing hold of her hands and helping her up. A small sigh of relief escaped Nellie's dry lips. She licked them, her eyes landing on her mother lying on the mattress, her back to them.

"Ma?" She whispered, the word coming out as a breath. Eyes flicking up to her brother, she asked the dreaded question, "Is she dead?" She looked dead, Nellie thought as her eyes landed on the women lying frighteningly still on the mattress.

"She's jus' restin' Nell." Danny boy said, releasing her hands as Nellie brushed past him to kneel by her ma's side. Rolling her over confirmed what she'd tried to ignore last night. A broken cheek bone; her puffy right cheek and black eye made tears collect in Nellie's eyes again.

"She needs ter rest Nell. An' she needs food." An apologetic look and a small shrug of his left shoulder told Nellie all she needed to know. Not long from now the market would be setting up. It never took long to get busy and when it was busy the traders couldn't watch over all their goods. This was when the street urchins pounced. Anything they could lay their hands on would be snatched and stuffed under a top or a skirt before dashing off. Being caught was not an option.

With her forefinger she tucked a strand of hair behind her ma's ear. She took Danny boy's hand, pulled herself up and strode out the room, her brother hot on her heals. Skipping down the narrow wooden steps, stepping over a semi-conscious child half way down, they left the stuffy house and stepped into the chilly, smog thickened air of Church lane.

Stepping straight out into the street, she had no worries of being knocked down by a cab. Church lane was in the heart of the St. Giles rookery, the homes of the lowest of the low, and no cab would venture here. It would be several streets away before Nellie had to start looking before she crossed the road.

Danny boy was beside her but the pair didn't talk. They weaved their way through the narrow lanes and dark alleys that made St. Giles a favourite hiding place for criminals; no one would come looking in here. The dead end alleys and maze of identical looking streets made sure of that.

It was early and the sun was just beginning to penetrate the smog to reach the streets below. Nellie didn't have a clue what time it was, they'd sold their clock to pay for dinner weeks ago, but she knew it between the time when the factory workers rolled out of bed to start the trek to work, and when the more respectable men, shopkeepers and the like, began to open up to the public.

It took them a few minutes to reach the spot where the market would be, a street on the outside of the rookery where more respectable people lived. Nellie knew her family weren't anywhere near 'respectable'. She'd heard her father yelling at her ma once saying if they dropped a rung lower on the social ladder they'd be in the workhouse. Nellie knew what the workhouse was.

Although the stands were all but set up along the street Nellie realised they were early. There was scarcely a buyer in sight. Attempting anything now would be suicide. A hand on her shoulder puller her into a doorway and onto the floor. Danny boy put his arm around her shoulders and the pair sat quietly, watching and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Waiting for the crowds to arrive gave Nellie the chance to watch the people strolling past. She loved to do this, and she especially loved watching the women and trying to pick out which ones really were ladies, and which were 'fallen' women, dressed up in an attempt to blend in for the day before work started in the evening.

After a few minutes, Nellie spotted a woman looking at something on a stall the other side of the street. She was young, not much older than Danny boy, and tall with thick tawny coloured hair rolled up in twists on her head. She wore a pale pink dress with white ruffles of the front and around the hem. Nellie was stumped by her. She wore the dress of a lady but the jaunty angle she was wearing her little bonnet at and the wisps of hair loose around her face made Nellie look again. With a wave of her white gloved hand she turned from the stall keeper, her eye landing on Nellie and Danny boy huddled in the corner. For a brief moment she stared at Nellie, looking closely at her face and clothes before cocking her head to the side, a warm smile on her thin lips. As quickly as she turned to face them, she turned away, disappearing into the crowd gathering in the market.

"It's gettin' busy. Let's go." Danny boy said, squeezing out from beside Nellie.

The woman in the pink dress instantly left Nellie's mind as she pulled herself up and darted into the thickening mass of market goers after her brother. The pair glanced over the stalls, trying to spot one where they could take something from one end while the trader was at the other. It didn't take them long to spot such a stall, but before they could squeeze into place, they noticed a young lad about Nellie's age with the same intentions.

Torn between revealing him in the hope of being rewarded and finding another stall, Danny boy grasped Nellie's shoulder to keep her still while they watched. He was clearly inexperienced, dithering around the edge of the stall before catching the stall owner's eye. Nellie shook her head; he didn't stand a chance now. Once spotted the trader would be sure to keep an extra close eye on him if he didn't shoo him away first.

Another customer drew the trader's attention away from the boy who took his chance, grabbing a turnip and turning to run. In his haste, he failed to notice the lady stood behind him, and the impact as he bumped into her was enough to cause him to stagger backwards, knocking the remaining turnips to the ground. It didn't take him a moment to regain his balance but he was too late, the trader had seen and lunged at him. The worn fabric of his shirt ripped in the older man's fist, allowing the lad to make a break for it, the stall owner hot on his heels.

A hard shove between her shoulder blades sent Nellie towards the stall. Glancing behind her she was just in time to see Danny boy dash off in the direction the trader and the boy had run. Without a thought to what he was doing, Nellie ran for the stall, grabbing hold of a turnip and a cabbage while the crowd pushed past to see the trader catch the boy.

Realising the chase had gone down the street her and Danny boy had come up, she turned and sprinted off in the other direction, dashing down the first alley she came to where she stuffed the stolen vegetables under her shawl. Still breathing heavily, she walked quickly down the alley, emerging onto one of the many identical looking streets of the rookery.

In a strange way Nellie realised she felt safer in the maze of St. Giles than in the outside world. The mismatched houses with their soot blackened walls, uneven roofs and cloth covered windows, the lengths of string slung with wet linen and clothes that created a ceiling over every filthy cobbled street and its overflowing drain down the middle had a sort of familiarity that reassured her.

At the end of the street the road forked into two narrower lanes. Nellie veered left automatically, moving quickly to the edge of the street where the dung and grime was shallower. Nellie looked up into the murky sky through the clothes lines. The inhabitants of this street seemed less coy than the last, with everything from ladies undergarments to ripped bed linen flapping eagerly in the wind. The streets were far more alive at this time of the morning that they had been earlier. A few old men carrying baskets or bags of produce passed her, presumably heading to the market to try and compete with the bigger stands, a flower girl too old to be called a girl and her plants too old to be called flowers held out a basket to Nellie hopefully, and a drunken hawker sang songs while struggling with a wooden tray round his neck.

From here it didn't take long for Nellie to reach Church Lane. Their tall, thin wooden house was about half way down the street, with the first floor wall bulging dangerously over the ground floor one, the rotten window frames and cracking glass windows. The door squeaked as Nellie pushed it open and she had to lift it closed again as the hinges moved with it. The corridor was narrow and made more awkward still by the vegetables still stuffed under her shawl. Sidestepping up the narrow spiral stairs, she carefully avoided the rotten ones until she reached the second floor. Their room was the second door in and she gratefully fell through it, allowing the turnip and the cabbage to roll out from under her shawl as she closed the door behind her.

The room was as she left it, Danny boy hadn't returned yet and ma was still lying on the mattress with her back to the room. Dropping the vegetables by the fire place she dashed over to the mattress and knelt on the edge.

"Ma?" she whispered softly, relieved when she stirred, "I bought us some food."

Her mother's hand instantly went up to her cheek, pressing it gently despite wincing at the contact. Nellie knew her mother wouldn't ask where the food had come from, she never did. Their father had taught them how to steal and despite ma's disapproval, even she couldn't admit it was essential at times like these.

"Where's Danny boy?" she mumbled, rolling over to face Nellie.

This question made Nellie think, for even she wasn't sure where her brother was or why he'd run off like he had. "We split up on the way 'ome." Was all she could think of as an excuse that wouldn't worry her ma. It seemed enough to satisfy her however as she nodded slowly and closed her eyes again.

A deep grumble resounded from Nellie's stomach as she stood up. Thinking back, she realised all she'd eaten the previous day was a stale crust of bread. Pressing her belly she sat down by the lifeless fire, eyes glued to the door hoping that Danny boy would come home soon.

And he did. Not long after her ma's breathing deepened to that of someone fast asleep, the door opened cautiously and Danny boy slipped inside with two large turnips cradled in his arms.

"Where've yer been?" Nellie exclaimed as she stood up and replaced the turnips in his arms.

"I caught the lad. Ran after 'im an' caught in fer the stall owner. Made out more respectable than I am an' 'e gave me them as a reward." He gestured to the turnips as he spoke.

A smile grew across Nellie's face, "We 'ave enough ter make some fer now, an' still make dinner fer when father get's 'ome." A nod and a smile from her brother was all Nellie needed to convince her to start preparing a soup for lunch.

-x-

When the sky outside was as black as ink and the street lamps were all that lit up the filthy streets of Church Lane ma took the pot of soup off the fire. It would cool over night and she could reheat it for tomorrow's dinner. They'd had hot soup for lunch as well so they could easily go without.

It was late, very late, and father still hadn't come home. He hadn't been home all day. Ma wasn't worried. She said after the argument they'd had the previous night it would take him a while to cool off. She said it was probably best he didn't come home just yet.

Nellie was worried about her ma. Her cheek was continuing to swell and was getting a darker and darker shade of blackish blue by the minute. She couldn't see a doctor though, they could never afford it.

Folding her shawl up carefully she placed it by the side of the mattress before crawling across it, curling up on the far side by the wall. Usually the four of them shared, however tonight Nellie was looking forward to having more space with her father not back.

When the three of them were settled, ma blew out the candle on the floor by the mattress, plunging the room into darkness. Nellie could feel Danny boy fidgeting beside her. He only did this when he had something on his mind. It only took a few moments for him to reveal what it was but Nellie had to strain to hear what he said, his words obviously intended for ma's ears only.

"Where der yer think father is?"

Ma sighed thoughtfully before replying, "Drinkin' probably."

"Der yer think 'e'll come 'ome termorrow?"

"I'm sure 'e will."

~26th March 1822. Church Lane, St. Giles~

And he did. The morning was bright and crisp and the sun had been up for a while, allowing the streets of St. Giles time to warm up. Ma had opened the cracked window slightly to allow the early spring sunshine into their cramped little room. Nellie was perched on the edge of the mattress carefully re-stitching the two edges of the hole in her shawl back together again. Danny boy had gone out a while ago after ma had said she had no bread left for breakfast. They all knew where he'd gone.

As soon as the familiar pounding footsteps had sounded up the uneven wooden stairs, ma had propped the broom up in the corner, brushed down her woollen skirts and stood facing the door, her hands wringing nervously behind her back. Nellie pretended not to notice this.

The door swung open forcefully and father stomped in, hair dishevelled and face dirtier than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept. Nellie suspected he probably hadn't.

His eyes darted angrily around the room, landing first on Nellie still sewing on the mattress, then to the cold, thick turnip soup standing in the pan on the floor by the lifeless fire. Ma smiled, her usual serene calm back in place after the events two nights ago. "Would yer like some soup dear? Yer can't 'ave eaten terday."

Father looked at her pointedly, angrily, yet her exterior still did not slip, "We can't afford soup. Not anymore."

Ma frowned and Nellie stopped sewing. "Course we can. Turnip soup's what we always 'ave." Ma said, confused but still in control.

"Yeah but I always used ter 'ave a job." Father snapped. Nellie froze, wide eyed. Ma clamped her hands together tightly.

"What der yer mean?" She asked quietly. Her voice was beginning to shake.

Father stormed past her to the window. Nellie tensed up and edged away slowly. "I won't be questioned in my own 'ome!" he roared, kicking the wall. It shook, clouds of dust falling from the ceiling.

"Yer'll tell me what yer mean now John Turner." Ma hissed. For a moment Nellie thought her ma was going to have her other cheek bone broken. To her surprise her father sighed and leant against the wall.

"I've lost me job." He said with a deep sigh. Nellie watched as the colour quickly drained from Ma's face, leaving her looking old and frail. Father turned away from her and stared out the window. "I didn't go inter work yesterday. Went in this mornin' an' they said I were no longer needed."

"Why didn't yer go inter work yesterday?" Ma croaked, her voice dry and feeble.

"I were at the pub drinkin'." Father replied bluntly.

"An' where did yer get the money fer drinkin' from?" Ma asked, her voice returning with her anger.

"Found eleven shillings in a drunken man's pocket."

Nellie looked at Ma to see her almost shaking with rage, "11 shillin's? 11 shillin's! That's almost a week's rent an' yer spent the whole lot on drink?!"

Father turned back to Ma and raised his hand to strike her, only to stop and lower it when he saw how angry she was. He bowed his head and sighed. Nellie felt scared, she'd never seen her father so deflated before.

"We've no choice. There's no more money." Father said quietly, avoiding looking into Ma's eyes.

Nellie watch horrified as a tear slid down her Ma's cheek. "I can't do it." She sobbed, clutching onto father's forearms. Tears began to roll down Nellie's cheeks. She knew what this meant; this fate had hovered over her struggling family for years.

The workhouse was their only option.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to review :)

Dolly x