The day passed her by she was that tired. Every time she had a moment to herself to think she felt her eyes grow heavy and sleep threatened to overwhelm her.
It was a day like any other yet it altered life once again.
Sarah sat at the kitchen table, as per usual, darning a hole in one her ladyships many petticoats. She move almost mechanically, every stitch the same as the last, neat and easy.
She felt the chair to her right pulled away from the table and was unsurprised when Lang sat himself down next to her. He didn't look tired, only a little lost. His hand lay on the table next to her.
Without thought Sarah placed her palm over the soft skin of the back of his hand.
He slowly lowered his gaze to their hands and there eyes met. A small, secretive smile played upon his lips. She smiled back, almost lowering her eyes with a blush.
"Miss O'Brien? Carson wants you, I think...oh!"
They both turned around startled and moved apart instinctively.
Daisy stared at them both, wide eyed in shock. Her mouth hung open and she stumbled back, terrified at O'Brien's unkind gaze.
Sarah stood up and stepped towards the cowering girl.
At once Daisy began gabbling "I won't tell anyone, I promise..."
"Ye'll keep yer trap shut!" Sarah's voice was hard and cold. She towered over the young girl, hands stretched out as if to shake her, to make her see sense. "Yer saw nothin'..." She trailed off. The look in Daisy face had changed, had crumbled from fear to confusion. If Sarah hadn't been so angry she would have taken the expression for pity. She followed the line of Daisy's gaze. It was aimed at her hands. No, her wrists.
Her out stretched arms had forced her sleeves to rise and her normally covered wrists were bare.
Dark purple uneven bruises were littered around both wrists. Horribly black against her pale skin.
She looked back at Lang who stared at her in horror. He stepped forward but was stopped by a shrill cry, Daisy ran from the room. Her feet beat thuds of the floor that ripped at Sarah's heart.
Lang trembled with shock beside her and Sarah turned breathlessly to stand a little closer to him. She paused, her mind was trained in scheming and she could already see where this was going and didn't like it one bit.
Grimly she marched out of the kitchen, leaving her sewing abandoned on the table.
Lang followed her silently.
Last time they had stood outside on the grounds they had felt so together. So right.
Now they stood awkwardly, unsure how even how to stand next to each other.
"I'm so sorry" Mr Langs voice trembled and broken as he half turned to her and held his hands to her uselessly.
"It's nothin'…I didn't even notice it."
Their fingers brushed lightly but this time their hands wouldn't clasp. Sarah sprawled her fingers against the cool breeze and shakily lit a cigarette. As she lifted her hand up, Lang gasped heart breakingly and unexpectedly strode away, shoulders shaking.
For a second Sarah desperately wanted to call him back. To comfort him, to tell him it wasn't him that had caused her harm. But it was. Brusquely she pulled her tight cuffs down as far as they would go and held them firmly in place with her shaking hands, blowing smoke out onto the innocent air in anger.
That night she fell asleep quickly and with no fussy. No sitting aimlessly and watching the silly stars, just a quick plait of her dark hair and then sleep. Sarah dreamed terrible things; blood splattered floors, sobbing, screaming, hands crushing hers. It hurt, so much.
She sat up, drenched in sweat. Her chest seemed so constricted and breathing was difficult. There was a screaming coming from down the corridor. Mans voices raised in anger.
Swiftly Sarah tumbled from her bad, as she was all caught up in the sheets, and ran to her door. The wooden floor was cool against her hot skin and the chilly night air stung her lungs as she wrenched her door open. She was at the door that separated her from the men before Mrs Hughes and in a mad desperation, banged on it with her fist. Behind she could feel Daisy's quiet watchful gaze upon her arms, quickly she pulled her nightgown down and hand her hands against her chest. She stepped aside for Hughes and swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.
The door unlocked with a click and Sarah all but pushed Mrs Hughes out of her way as she stumbled down the corridor. Lang's door was open and Branson was holding him down whilst Carson hovered ineffectively. Lang looked petrified out of his wits. Sarah felt horribly responsible. He fought with the men senselessly and cried out in anguish.
"Please stop!" Sarah own shrill voice surprised even her and she was at his side in a moment. Pushing Branson away she cradled his head and stroked his flailing arms. He quietened almost immediately. In all the fuss the sleeves of her nightshirt and risen and her wrists were completely on display.
Mr Lang nuzzled against her waist, still asleep, as he had been the whole time, and she felt his breathing slow and his hot arms tighten around her.
Ashen face, Sarah looked up and saw Mrs Hughes and Carson watching her, judgement glinting in their eyes. Carson was staring at Lang in horror; Sarah felt her heart skip a beat. Would they send him away? Mrs Hughes looked directly at her wrists, face grim and arms folded against her nightgown and shawl. She caught Sarah's eyes and opened her mouth to speak.
Lang's whimper interrupted her "Sarah…please…" She wasn't sure if it was a plea to stay or go but she hushed him quietly in reply and felt his hands reach from hers.
Understanding flickered across both her superiors' faces and Sarah felt a wave of dread wash over her.
This was not what she wanted.
Not them.
Not this place.
Just him.
His eyes flickered open and tears welled up in hers. Slowly she stroked his cheek soothingly, uncaring who was watching them anymore.
If he was to be fired, why then so was she.
