~ CHAPTER 4 ~

Nancy awoke and blearily looked around her. She didn't know where she was. This wasn't her home, or Bet's home. It was white, pure white, and its starkness made her tired eyes ache. She wondered for a moment whether this was Heaven, that she'd finally died in the London streets and this was the afterlife. She noticed that she too was dressed in a white gown, her red dress nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, she turned her head to the side and squinted at the vision of a figure moving towards her, also dressed in white. An angel? Their facial features were indistinguishable and Nancy tried to lean forward in attempt to make them out, but the all-too-familiar pain in her body made its unwelcome return, and she thought better of it.

'Oh, good. You're awake.'

It was the voice of a woman. Gentle, yet self-assured. Nancy felt comforted by the sound of it and relaxed into the pillow, breathing slowly. Her head was throbbing faintly; she reached a hand up to her temple tentatively and felt a tight bandage there.

'How are you feeling?'

The woman was leaning over her, placing a warm hand on her forehead. Nancy blinked a few times and her face finally came into focus. It was a kind face, belonging to a woman who was perhaps a little older than Nancy was. She had wide-set, pale eyes, and dimples. Nancy felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards into a small smile.

'Sore,' she mumbled, sniffing, 'Where am I?'

'St. Bartholomew's. You've been here since yesterday morning.'

Nancy nodded slowly. She looked around her at the other beds, most occupied with sleeping patients.

'Now you're awake, I'll need to examine you. I need to get a full idea of your injuries.'

Nancy nodded again.

The nurse scanned her eyes over Nancy's body, gently prodding her grazes and bruises, muttering apologies in response to Nancy's pained whimpers. She then frowned slightly, and firmly pressed two fingers into Nancy's side.

'Jesus Christ,' Nancy hissed, instinctively twisting away from the nurse's hands and screwing her eyes shut. The nurse tutted in sympathy.

'Just as I thought. A broken rib. We'll need to strap that up. You've really been through the mill, my dear.'

The nurse provided a running commentary as she completed her examination, but Nancy barely listened to her. Her words were muted and meaningless, and Nancy kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

'And I think you likely have a concussion,' the nurse finished. Nancy flicked her eyes over to look at her.

'Hmm?'

'A concussion.'

Nancy frowned and twisted her mouth, feeling sheepish, 'I – I don't know what a concussion is. A concussion?' The word was alien, feeling strange as she formed it. If it was an explanation for how she'd been feeling for the past day or so, however, then she concluded that it was probably bad news.

The nurse smiled kindly at her, 'Well, do you feel dizzy? Sick?'

Nancy nodded, 'Yeah. Yeah… I fainted too. Yesterday, I mean.'

'That may have been to do with the blood loss. But the dizziness and sickness will be a concussion. They should pass within a few days, all being well.'

Nancy frowned as she took all this in. The nurse made moves to stand up, but Nancy reached for her arm before she did so.

'How did I get here?'

'Oh, a gentleman and young girl came with you in the ambulance. The girl was very keen to stay with you but you needed your rest. She'll be around to visit soon, I suppose. She said she was your sister.'

Nancy felt a tug in her heart at that last sentence and smiled, leaning back against her pillow once more. The nurse nodded in approval, before standing up.

'I'm going to fetch a bandage to strap around your ribs, to support them while they heal.'

Nancy watched her as she did as she said then returned to her side.

'Can you try and sit up?'

Nancy nodded and heaved herself up with enormous effort until she was propped against the pillow. The nurse asked her to lift her gown so that she could tie the bandage. Nancy did so and turned her back towards her, feeling exposed. The nurse began wrapping the bandage around her, keeping it tight against her skin. It was uncomfortable, at times painful, and Nancy grimaced. Eventually, the bandage was applied and she could lower her gown. She lay back down in the bed again and watched after the nurse as she went to attend to the other patients, along with the other nurses.

Her dizziness was significantly reduced from the day before, but she could feel it still lurking behind her eyes. Her body still ached all over, but the crispness of her clean nightdress and bed sheets made her feel a little better about it. She inspected her arms, speckled with blue and black, and then peeked under the covers at her legs, which looked much the same. She puffed her cheeks out and looked up at the ceiling again, crossing her hands over her stomach and tuning in to her breathing.

And then she remembered. The newspaper. Feeling her skin prickle, she pictured the words on the ceiling.

WILLIAM SYKES SHOT DEAD

She blinked rapidly. She breathed in. She breathed out. She struggled to decide what she was feeling. Sadness? Perhaps. Happiness? Relief? A myriad of emotions began to build a pressure in her chest. The man who had been her companion since she was a jaded thirteen-year-old. The man who gave her somewhere to live, who provided for her. Nancy closed her eyes and bunched her hands into fists.

The man who had tried to kill her.

Her stomach lurched at the realisation and she tried to fight it, but she knew. He'd hit her before, of course. Usually after too many drinks and a bad shift. It was how he got his frustration out. If he didn't hit her, he'd have to hit the dog, and that was never an option. He loved that bloody dog. But this time was different. The visions of that night were fuzzy, but they collected in her mind unwarranted, and Nancy was forced to study them against her will.

She remembered him bellowing at her, swearing, pulling at her hair and clothes. Blind to her tears and deaf to her sobs as she fought to defend herself. He'd hit her everywhere. Nancy bit her lip as a strangled cry erupted from her throat, and felt hot tears track down her cheeks. She remembered him kicking, punching, hitting. He'd aimed at her head, and that must have been what knocked her out. That must have been when he stopped.

It was only now that she questioned herself for putting up with it all. She thought it was because she loved him, but that feeling left a sour taste in her mouth. Perhaps it was the softer side of him that came after his drunken fits. The way he was gentle with her, holding her close in his strong arms and muttering apologies in her ear. That was what made her stay. That Bill. He could be protective, fiercely so, and she liked that. She'd lived her life on the streets and was hardened to what they threw at her, but having someone to take care of her, however poorly, seemed better than nothing.

Nancy took breath after shaking breath, feeling the pressure in her chest grow heavier. She couldn't seem to lift it. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, rubbing furiously until they ached and blackened her vision. Her cries echoed around the ward, disturbing the other patients, but she paid them no attention. She paid no attention to the voices in the doorway, nor to the gathering pairs of eyes which watched her in bewilderment. Her body shook with racking sobs. She could barely breathe. She couldn't stop. Soon, she felt arms around her and collapsed against someone's chest, clinging to them.

'Nancy, calm down. Breathe.'

'I can't – I –'

Bet's voice shushed her gently, and Nancy felt her hand stroking her hair, whilst the other was wrapped tight around her shoulder. Her sobs dissolved away to little more than hiccups, but the pressure in her chest hadn't lessened.

'There now,' Bet murmured, holding Nancy's face in her cool hands and wiping away the tears with her thumb. 'You're free.'

Nancy somehow summoned the strength to give her a watery smile, before huddling against her shoulder once more. Bet's arms wrapped around her and rocked her gently.

'What you staring at?' Nancy heard Bet bark at who she guessed was another patient.

'Mr Brownlow came with me to bring you here,' Bet whispered to Nancy, 'When you collapsed in the street, I ran to the first gentleman I could find. Ain't it lucky it was him? I didn't know it was, of course, I'd not met him before. But I told him what happened and he explained who he was. I knew he'd want to help you. He's a right proper gentleman, he is.'

Nancy listened to Bet's patter and closed her eyes, smiling again. She pictured Mr Brownlow: his kindly face and his fatherly concern for Oliver. Oh, Christ. Oliver. Poor little mite.

'What about Oliver?' Nancy asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

'He's fine, Nance. Just fine. The Peelers broke up Fagin's place and took him back to Mr Brownlow.'

'Fagin…'

'They got him, Nance. Arrested him.'

Nancy flinched. She'd resented Fagin for the way her life had turned out, but a small part of her remained grateful to him for taking her in when she was a child. He'd fed her and given her shelter; and that was surely better than the dangers of the streets, however crooked the arrangement may have been. Now he'd been arrested, it was over. The man who'd been something like a father to her, she'd likely never see again. She and Bet held each other in a sombre silence for a few moments, neither sure what to say to the other. They were interrupted by the nurse returning with a bowl of steaming soup, and Nancy reluctantly sat back against her pillows to take it from her. Bet squeezed her shoulder and stood up, saying she'd be back to visit later on, and left Nancy alone.

Nancy peered down at her soup, prodding the lumps of potato and carrot around the bowl. She wasn't remotely hungry, but she managed a few measly mouthfuls before abandoning the bowl on her bedside table and lying down. She didn't much feel like sleeping either, but there was little else to do. Taking as deep a breath as her strapped-up ribs would allow, she pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes.

Hope you enjoyed – a slightly longer chapter this time to make up for not updating in so long (I checked, it was six months between chapters two and three… oops)