*pokes head out of a proverbial doorway* Sorry I haven't updated in so long! Life's got away with me a bit recently; I've been buried with PGCE applications. However, thanks to the lovely reviews left on Chapter 2, I've decided to try to push on! Thank you for sticking with me on this, I've got a few more ideas of where I want it to go (though I always welcome suggestions) and I really hope you enjoy it!
~ CHAPTER 3 ~
'Nance?'
Nancy had burrowed her head into the crook of Bet's neck, and was quiet.
'Nance, I'm going to go out and get some more food. I'll make you some soup?'
A non-committal grunt was the reply.
'I might need my shoulder back though, Nance,' Bet whispered.
Nancy heaved a sigh and leaned off of her shoulder.
'Okay,' she said, making an enormous effort to smile, 'I'll come with you.'
Bet shook her head, 'No. You need to stay here. You promise me that you'll stay here, okay? Where I know you're safe.'
Nancy met Bet's gaze with wet eyes and furrowed her brow, 'I – I don't want to stay here. I want to come with you.'
But Bet wasn't shifting, 'No, Nancy. You're injured and you need rest. You're staying here.' She stood up, looking uncharacteristically firm. Nancy shrunk further inside of herself and nodded in defeat. Bet softened slightly and smiled at her, leaning forward to tuck a wayward strand of the girl's curly hair behind her ear.
'I won't be long, I promise; I'm just going to the market. You'll be just fine.'
With that, Bet gathered her shawl, tossed a few coins from her bedside table into her pocket, smiled at Nancy again and left the room. Nancy puffed her cheeks out and leant back on the bed, tilting her head from side to side and feeling her neck creak. She hated being alone.
She heaved herself up from the bed and wandered around the room, surveying the sparse furnishings and dusty floorboards. She had never had much opportunity to visit Bet's lodgings; he always wanted her at their home, making his food, and if she wasn't at home she was out working.
A speckled mirror hung on the wall adjacent to the door. Nancy approached it and peered at her reflection. Lord, she looked a mess. Splotches of purple shadowed her under-eyes, and despite Bet's tight bandaging of her head, a few trickles of blood had made their unwelcome way down her cheek. She dabbed at them with a corner of her sleeve, frowning, and then turned to face the window. The streets were busying as the day drew on to mid-morning. Nancy surveyed the crowds as they bustled along the cobbled street, wrapped in scraggly scarves and battered hats. She felt a tug of envy in her stomach. Today, for them, was like any other day. Completely ordinary.
Her eyes were dry from lack of sleep. She wondered about having a nap and went about curling up on Bet's bed. She screwed her eyes shut but shot them open again when the sight of his contorted face seared across her mind's eye. Whimpering quietly, she rolled over to lie on her back and gaze at the cracked ceiling above her. She hummed a timid tune in some sort of attempt to calm herself, but it was no use. She twisted her hands together in her lap and bit her lip as fresh, hot tears tracked down the side of her face. Wiping them away, she sniffed hard and sat up again. For a while, she slouched on the edge of Bet's bed, staring fixedly at the floor. Then, she tied up the laces on her boots, stood up, and grabbed her shawl from where she'd left it on the floor. She returned to the mirror and draped the shawl over her head in attempt to hide the bandage. Glancing back at the empty room, she walked through the doorway and shut the door quietly behind her. Taking a steadying breath, she exited the building in search of… well, she wasn't quite sure what.
She hunched her shoulders against the chill of the morning air. She felt like everyone was staring at her, commenting on her mess of a face, her bruised arms, her torn dress – whether they actually were or not was of no consequence. Despite the paranoid feelings churning in her stomach, it was somewhat pleasant to be outside. She always felt freer outside.
It wasn't long before she arrived at the market, which was already bustling with crowds of people and humming with the calls of the vendors. Nancy hid behind her scarf, avoiding people's gaze; people knew her here, and she wanted to avoid any questions. She just wanted to find Bet. She needed her. The calls of a nearby newspaper-seller came into earshot, and Nancy strained to hear him over everything else. She could make out odd phrases: "shot dead", "accidentally hanged". Edging closer, she heard a third phrase which made her blood run cold. "William Sykes".
She reached out weakly to take a newspaper from the seller, and scanned her eyes over the front page. The words swam in front of eyes. It was a simple headline, in a way, concise and to-the-point: "William Sykes shot dead". Her hands gripped the edges of the newspaper, crumpling them. Her breath caught in her throat and she staggered a little to the side.
'You alright, love?' a nearby voice asked.
'Here, is that Nancy?'
'Oh God, it is Nancy!'
Nancy shook her head and dropped the newspaper to the ground. She couldn't speak. She felt dizzy, she felt sick, she felt everything all at once. It was too much. The bees had returned to her head. Her vision was clouding again. Her knees buckled underneath her and the last thing she remembered seeing was the blurred image of Bet sprinting towards her.
