Hey people! This will be rather short. It's sort of a test, y'know, because the last two chapters had looked so strange and hard-to-read. So I'm doing it in another way now hoping it'll work. You can find the disclaimers and notes about my grammar at my second and third chapters.

Enjoy!

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*When Maureen woke up the next day it was already quite bright in the room. And it was a bit chilly. So November had taken over again. Janet had not awoken her and Maureen being so exhausted had slept until late morning. She hadn't slept much the last days and so the sleep on the straw-bed had been sweet and dreamless.

Jane wasn't in her bed - she wasn't in the room at all. Maureen's first reaction was to grab the pouch around her neck fingering it to make sure it still had its content in it. To her relief the necklace was still there so she got up and looked around the room. She found a small bowl of cold porridge standing on the table. She didn't know if it was for her so she didn't dare eating it although her stomach was demanding it furiously (last day's supper had been rather frugal). But she resisted and to divert her mind from the food she looked out of the window which was only covered with a piece of flimsy cloth. Maureen had to stand on tiptoes to get a glance out of it - but all she could see was the next even more shabby house standing very close. She could hear babbling and arguing from the lanes under her. There was a child crying. She turned away and scanned the room for a washing basin but couldn't find one.

She was considering if she should go down and search for a well as her eyes fell upon a bag lying next to her bed. It was the food bag of this stranger she had met. What had been his name? After she had emptied the bag she had tucked it under her shirt and then forgotten. It probably had fallen out while she had been sleeping. Oh yes - Geoffrey was his name. And the last name? He had said it but she couldn't remember. If he still was at his friend's? And if not where then?

Why was she thinking about him at all? . Well, he had been the first person she had spoken to in her new identity. He had believed her and he had been very friendly.

If he was from London? He had been looking somewhat noble. If he was educated? Well, he had said something about writing, so he at least seemed to know the letters, an ability Maureen wasn't mighty of.

Then she thought about Jane. She had been very nice to her and Maureen really liked her. Liked? Uh oh, that wasn't good! She didn't want to like anybody at all. But Jane had comforted her and given her food and an accomodation when she really had needed it. And she would help her finding paid labour. And she had done all these things although she hadn't known her at all. And without demanding anything in reward. Perhaps she was an angel?

Maureen decided that it couldn't be that bad to like someone. Who could possibly live without that? One just had to be careful that the relationship didn't grow too strong.

Jane probably liked Maureen, too. She wanted to help her - no, she wanted to help poor Ryan. Maureen suddenly felt a deep guilt and thought about leaving and never coming back as Jane entered the room. She had been buying some things: bread, a bit of mouldy-looking cheese, milk, oats and ale. She greeted Maureen happily and then put all the things onto the table noticing the still full bowl.

"Why haven't you eaten the porridge? Too cold?"she asked in her friendly voice.

"Um, no, um.I just didn't know if it was mine. I didn't want to."

"Little nitwit!" she interrupted laughing "Of course it was yours. Eat it before Pete comes. He doesn't like cold food standing around."

Had there been a slight trace of fear in her voice as she had said the last thing? No - certainly not - no reason for that.