Prompt at the end.
Dedicated to Aunt Sally 1964-2022. You will be missed.
Promise me.
The phrase filtered out of the depths of memory, love wrapped up in the urgency of a dying breath. She suppressed the shiver trying to creep down her spine and kept digging. She always found food on this street.
Promise me, Ellie. Please.
Promise what?
The voice did not answer, of course. Aunt Sarah had died months ago, and Ellie lived on the streets now. She left that bin to try the next.
Remember. Always remember.
I remember you, Auntie, she thought in return. I promise I remember, but what about today brought you to mind?
She knew better than to expect a reply. A piece of chicken along with a strange, somehow spicy vegetable provided several bites, and she avoided the main streets to move to the next alley. London had far too many people.
She could not go back home, however. Tring did not have nearly enough rich people for her to find scraps. Even the kids there cleaned their plates.
Happy shouts carried from the main thoroughfare, and she glanced up in time to see a group of kids chasing each other down the sidewalk, laughing all the while. The dirt covering slightly ragged clothes announced them fellow street kids. Maybe she could introduce herself. It would be nice to have friends again.
Not yet, though. Not until she knew they would accept her. A mental note resolved to watch them for a while as she resumed her hunt for food. Only a little more, and she could stop grazing for an hour or two to search for tonight's place to sleep.
You're brave…
No, I'm not, Auntie. I'm not brave enough to approach them uninvited. There's too many of them.
A large piece of cheese, only slightly discolored, lay on top of the next bin as if waiting for her. One fingernail scraped off the mold to let the rest disappear in four large bites. Her stomach finally stopped growling, and she sighed in relief. Now for tonight's sleep spot. She wanted to stay near this street—so much food would be foolish to abandon—but safety dictated she move alleys every night.
You're smart…
Smart enough to keep moving, yes. Adults did not always like kids except as targets, and the locals would take note if an unsupervised kid lingered for too long. She had heard enough about London's factory orphanages to stay far away.
A distracted thought debated whether "hearing" Aunt Sarah's voice was more pleasant or painful. Three months ago, she would have said painful, but now…
Aunt Sarah had been a shining light of kindness in a dark and lonely town. London needed more of that light.
You're strong…
Perhaps. She could not fully disagree with that. Living alone had forced her to be strong. The strong found food. The strong found shelter. The strong walked to the next town when home did not provide either.
The strong helped others. A tiny girl wandered too far into the press only to sit down when an oblivious adult jostled her, and Ellie dodged through the crowd to shield the young one from a large man hurrying down the street. Once the man had seen them and gone around, she crouched several feet away where she could see both the toddler and the incoming pedestrian traffic.
"Hello." Ellie kept her words soft and gave a wide smile, pleased when the girl responded with a wet, toothy grin. "Your momma probably wouldn't like you sitting in the sidewalk. Can I help you find her?"
"Mummy?" She looked around, then back at Ellie in confusion. "Mummy bye."
"Alright," Ellie replied easily. That sounded like the young one did not have a momma. "What about papa? Or a brother or sister?"
"Brudder!" Her small face lit up as she clapped her hands, chortling as if the word was her favorite in the world. "'Riss brudder!"
"We can find your brother," Ellie promised. "I doubt he's very far. Come on."
She held out one hand, which the girl willingly stood to take. Those short legs trotted beside Ellie back into the alley shadows.
"What is your brother's name?"
"'Id Ack-son." Small fingers traced the lines in the brick. "Likes Ack-son."
Id Ackson. David Jackson, probably, and that meant her name was "'Riss," though what that could be short for Ellie could not decide.
"Where did you leave him?"
"'Ome. Ack-son 'ome. 'Riss 'splore."
"You left him at home?" This entire area was a maze of alleys, as far as Ellie could tell. Nobody lived here. "Where is home?"
"'Ortyard." She traced another line, then pulled a marble from a hole in the wall. "'Resent."
Ellie struggled to hold back a laugh. Only a toddler would sneak away from her brother to get him a marble for a present. Young 'Riss would get a talking to as soon as they found David.
"How long—"
"Doris!"
Footsteps pounded the cobblestones, then a boy closer to Ellie's age hurried around the next corner, frantic searching cascading into heavy relief on sight of his sister. Doris let go of Ellie as long strides let David meet her a few feet away. He immediately scooped the small girl into a careful hug.
"Don't scare me like that, Doris! I thought you were gone."
"'Resent," she told him happily, wiggling free to hold out the hand with the marble. "'Riss 'resent for brudder day. 'Appy day."
"My birthday?" he realized as she dropped the marble into his hand. He held it tightly but put his other hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for the birthday present, Doris, but please don't sneak away again. Next time take me with you."
She chimed something about "brudder go with," but Ellie turned to leave. She still needed to find a place to sleep tonight, and the city would eat again soon. Foraging just after mealtimes gave her the best chance of fresh food.
"Wait. Don't go."
Braver…
A glance back found Jackson now on his feet, Doris balanced on his hip though his full attention rested on Ellie.
"Thank you for bringing Doris back," he started, studying Ellie for a moment as if trying to remember something. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Jackson, as she probably told you. Are you part of the Irregulars, too?"
The Irregulars? She gave her own name but indicated a negative. "Never heard of them. I was searching for tonight's sleep spot when I saw Doris watching the grown-ups on the last street. A man wasn't paying attention and made her lose her balance."
His hand tightened slightly under his sister, though he did not look away from Ellie.
"The Irregulars is a group of street kids," he answered, as if reciting something recently told him. "We have shelter, food, clothes, and honest work. We live in a courtyard, and we always have room for one more. You could join us."
Stronger…
She shook her head. "That's your home. I can find my own."
"Or you can make ours your home," he countered. "You're not inviting yourself, if that's what you're worried about. I'm inviting you."
Braver…
"Would—" The question broke. She paused, then rephrased. "The others wouldn't mind?"
He firmly shook his head. "Of course not! They accepted us the moment we followed Charlie home that first day, and they do the same with every new arrival. More than not minding, you'd be welcome."
Smarter…
This would be better than being alone, and if they truly accepted her into the group, she could have a home again. If not…
She would be no worse off than she was now, she decided. A nod brought a wide smile to Jackson's face.
"'Riss new friend?"
"Yes, Doris," he chuckled. "Ellie is coming to live with us. Come on," he directed at Ellie. "Jacob might even be home right now. He's our leader, and Charlie will be glad to have another girl in the group."
He started walking deeper into the shadows, nearly rambling about everything that happened in their courtyard. Ellie simply listened. This sounded more and more like the sort of home she had found with Aunt Sarah, one based on kindness and caring for everyone who entered.
The one that could take a lonely young girl and give her a home, love, and the strength to keep going when doctors could do nothing to keep that home together. If the Irregulars were anything like Aunt Sarah, Ellie would be happy here. Perhaps almost as happy as she had been in that cozy cottage in Tring.
Not quite, though. Nothing could ever replace the woman that had sparkled with a kindness so a part of her that she could no more be unkind to someone than she could walk on the ceiling.
You're braver than you believe, Ellie May, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Always remember that. Promise me.
Ellie could emulate it, though. She could try to show the Irregulars the kindness she had seen. Asking Jacob what they needed would make a good start.
I promise, Auntie.
Prompt #146. "Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." ~A.A. Milne
Hope you enjoyed, and thank you to those who have reviewed :)
Fireguardian22: Thank you, and I would agree with uncles being good for a story. It's been a lot of fun to explore how Hamish fills the same role in Watson's life while still being very different from Edward.
MHC1987: LOL on needing it to deal with Holmes. so true
Corynutz: more of Hamish is always possible and at least halfway planned, though I don't know when. The muse has to cooperate, and I know precious little of 1900 Brisbane, lol. John is somewhere around 10 (?) at the beginning of their stay in Australia, which puts Harry 11 or 12ish? Not 100% sure yet, but it's somewhere pre-teen. And no, while I may not always have a reply, your reviews are never a bother. Glad you're enjoying, and I hope you had a good birthday :)
