Hello readers... long time no writing, I know. Hopefully this long chapter will make up for it. I've been getting through graduating university at the moment so after it all settles down I should hopefully be able to write more. Please enjoy, and review.
The Pureblood Prince - XXVI
Necessary Evil.
The lunch rush had all but come and gone at the dingy teashop several cobblestone streets from the factory. They called it a teashop because the words 'Silk St. Teashoppe' was plastered in barely legible faded silver lettering over the entrance… certainly not because it resembled anything like a shop that deserved to be titled in Olde English. Eileen knew it as a communal trough.
There were fewer locals here today due to the rain. Most of them would have taken lunch breaks with their wives and young children and babies if they had them – and most of them had far too many than they could afford: a prime example had just visited the trough this morning… two in her pram, two on her arms, what seemed like several hundred trailing behind her, only one English breakfast ordered that they all shared between them… one would think that there was nothing else to do in Northern England than fornicate. Well, Eileen thought as she returned to the kitchen with handfuls of dripping towels from the inevitable spillage of milk from one of the screaming brats, perhaps fornicating was the only law-bidding thing to prevent boredom around here – but they certainly didn't have to procreate every single time they did it.
She wiped her sweaty brow with the back of one hand and took this quiet moment to think - a rare luxury given the state of things today. The bordering-on-elderly and excessively plump cook continued to shoot gratuitous glares behind the steel shelves in Eileen's direction, even though two words had been spoken between the two women since she had been re-hired. Eileen enjoyed it more than she resented it; the old bag was clearly jealous that were was a younger and more attractive woman working within the premises, and it wasn't every day that Eileen could call herself the more attractive woman. She'd thought she might savour it while she could. She was now Queen of this territory… grimy and claustrophobic and filled with the sickly second-hand smoke that had removed itself from the factory workers jackets that it was.
"Them pots need scrapin'" the blue-rinsed crone from the kitchen squawked after exactly one and a half seconds of glowering at the newly hired waitress stopping to take a breath. A wrinkly hand jabbed itself in the sink's direction.
"So they do." All too familiar reality came crashing down again when Eileen laid eyes on the tower of stained crockery. She almost couldn't fathom that at this present time there was an Advanced Potions book in her wardrobe containing scribbles of invented incantations – all seemingly authored by her son. It sounded like a fairytale in comparison to the life she was living; the most frightening thing was that she was actually starting to believe it was all just a fairytale. Eileen blew a tuft of sticky, sweaty black hair out of her eyes and pulled the scour brush out of the dirty pool in the sink.
"What, Maggie?" she snapped at the increasingly infuriating glower still radiating from the fat bitch in the corner.
"Ooh, a person can' use her eyes now, can she?" Maggie countered, a trail of spit landing on the slab of pastry she was rolling.
"Not on me, you can't!" And by Merlin, woman, if you keep doing so that saliva-infused piece of custard tart will be the last thing you ever touch.
The cook snorted. "Yeh know I don' know how yer managed to claw yer way back into t'place, Snape. Yeh were a miserable little trollop then and yer a miserable little trollop now."
"Ah, what a life you've lived - recalling what I was like almost twenty years ago. I am profoundly touched." Eileen mumbled as she slammed the various soapy kitchen utensils down on the bench one-by-one.
"At least my husband's not an unemployed good fer nothing-"
"You what?"
It was perhaps the first time that Maggie looked into Eileen's eyes, and they were ferocious.
"Nothin', nothin'… how is Toby?"
"No, not nothing." Eileen stated as fact. "Not nothing. I'll have you know that my husband is now re-employed at his previous post after his accident and thank you for your concern."
A few minutes dragged out between them after which Eileen snatched the tart from the cook's hands and stormed into the dining room – barely reaching the point between kitchen tiles and dusty floorboards before the inevitable retort.
"Shame yer didn' finish the job really-"
A shatter and a scream simultaneously erupted from the kitchen – both Eileen and the young mother in the dining room turned to the sight of a dozen pots, sieves, ladles and skewers over the floor directly below the visibly shaken cook. The hanger had evidently collapsed on her head…
"Oh dear." Eileen muttered under her breath, and then walked over and handed the plate to the woman. "There must be magic afoot here!" she said, happily flashing a rare smile at one of the less repellent children looking up at her from the table.
"Magic!" the youngster reiterated excitedly.
Eileen smirked. It was certainly a universal response for all particularly imaginative children. It was all so simple. Sev had once said the exact same thing to her when she had sat him down in her lap and whispered that it was all real, that he wasn't imagining it, as Tobias had told him; he could do anything he put his mind to.
And he had looked at her the way this child did now… and she knew that all he was thinking was being able to fly or to point a wand at the stars and make them race around the sky, and she knew she would forever wish to have this moment back. Of course, she didn't know just how much…
She caught herself before she started telling this particular Muggle boy the same thing. Instead she said, "Would you like a special chocolate milk for well-behaved boys?" – making sure the siblings didn't hear.
"Snape."
Eileen turned away; it was William Tilbrook, owner of The Silk St. since time began and back from his two hourly lunch break.
"Excuse me, young man." Eileen said most genteelly to the boy who went from looking bitterly disappointed after being robbed of his free drink to rather proud of himself after being addressed in such a manner. She walked over to the figure looming in the doorway. He was a squat little man who possessed the notion that the more gold chains and teeth you had, the closer you were to the middle and upper-class… a notion plenty of people round this town had, and one that Eileen failed to see the origin of, herself originally being from the upper-class and all. She knew that was the reason he had probably hired her here twenty years ago.
"Bill."
"E'rything alight, darlin'?"
"Fine. Why shouldn't it be?"
"Ah, well, it should be, it should be…" he mused. "Know anythin' bout' this?" a stubby hand jabbed at the mound of pots. He wasn't a mean man, and he didn't ask in a mean way, but Eileen still felt affronted (even if she did know something about it).
"No? I heard it, obviously. I was in the dining room serving…"
Billy looked for confirmation from Maggie who gave a great big sigh.
"She was." Maggie consented, sounding as if she would given anything to have dragged Eileen back in there if she knew the boss was coming – but was a half-decent woman, and she never lied, it was why Eileen didn't mind being called a miserable little trollop, because that was certainly honest.
The boss affectionately patted the bony shoulder, which was more than a foot taller than him. Eileen tensed. Men's hands scared her still. "I dunno what it is about yer, pet. Every time I let yer back in here somethin' always falls of t'wall or catches alight. Nearly burned the entire place down once, yeh remember! What a day!"
Ah, the cooker-capriciously-catching-alight incident, she had almost forgotten about that… a particularly bad argument with Toby in the morning coupled with agonisingly merciless morning sickness in the throes of blissful early pregnancy. Any witch would have set the kitchen alight - it was only natural. She had done it countless number of times in her own kitchen.
"I did no such thing." Eileen protested defensively.
"Jus' pulling yer leg pet. 'ere…" he handed her a very thin envelope. "Go home to yer boys, see yer for the breakfast rush tomorrow."
All of Eileen's already fallen features fell further. He was paying her already? It was only one 'o clock. She had barely worked six and a half hours and for what? Fifteen quid if she was very, very lucky, that's what.
"Are you sure you don't need me until close?"
"Nah, nah, I'll be right ter do that, ta." But Bill had a look in his eyes that told her he knew she was desperate – not that he was going to play along of course. Those eyes told her 'I ain't made of money, darling. I'm doing you a favour letting you back in here you know.'
"Thanks, Bill." She shoved the envelope into her handbag and made a hasty exit out the back. Bill indeed. Bills that couldn't be paid once again.
As Eileen made her away into the backstreet, she ripped open the envelope – which more peeled away rather than ripped as it was already saturated with rain – and pulled out ten quid. Well… maybe it could feed them for a couple of days at least. It was perhaps the first time that she was glad Severus was with her parents, as she was sure he was; at least there he'd be getting fed enough to get him through the day, and have a warm bed to sleep in. Merlin knew he needed some fattening up.
She hurried along the cobblestones holding the collar of her coat over her head and made her way over to the local butchers.
The minute she got through the door and placed the bread and several slices of ham on the table that afternoon, it started again. Tobias was already home but instead of his usual position slumped on the couch, he had been pacing the room as if expecting a very important phone call. They both exchanged a long and slightly uncomfortable glance as soon as Eileen entered the living room, dripping wet, as if they were both unsure of the mood of the other.
One look at what she had bought seemed to assure Toby, however.
"Yer didn' blow yer wages already!" he groaned.
Blow my wages?
"Someone has to feed you, Toby. Christ knows you're incapable of doing it yourself." Snapped Eileen, opening the backdoor briefly to violently shake the rain from her soaked coat and bag. She stormed back in and threw both of them into the cupboard. "I hardly think making sure you keep on breathing constitutes wasting money."
Then again, maybe it did.
"Bloody hell, woman." Toby continued to moan and sat back down on the couch. It was as if she had said nothing at all, it was in one ear and out the other with him.
"Oh, shut your face Tobias! You'd think I'd just gone and bought ten pairs of knickers with the way you're carrying on! I spent five pounds on meat and bread!""
"Didn't think yeh knew what knickers were."
Eileen had to take a moment to centre herself before she took a fatal swing at him.
"I could do without your cheek today, thank you; honestly, I have had it up to here with everything these past few weeks…" she toppled into the space on the couch next to her husband and pulled off her shoes, the water had soaked into her stockings so much so that she couldn't feel her feet when she massaged them.
"I'm going to take a shower."
"Why don't yeh take a bath?"
Eileen look back at him, frowning. Tobias stroked her shoulder and smiled, which was rather intimidating but not at all unwelcomed in any way. "What? Yer've 'ad a long day, go relax a bit, might join yeh later if yer lucky."
Eileen felt herself soften slightly, damn him for being so successfully manipulative. Damn her for being blinded by this ridiculous love for him.
"Tempting, but I hardly think it would be comfortable – the both of us squashed into that bucket." She kissed him, her anger forgotten. "I'll be quick, then I'll start dinner."
Toby pulled her back as she pushed away; he cupped her delicate icy face into his hands and kissed her back, and then kissed her again much more deeply, she gave an almost involuntary moan through her lips as she felt his tongue between them… then she gave him hers in return. He wasn't good at this in any sort of aspect, physical affection without ripping her clothes off that was, but the fact that he was actually trying for once made her want to cry. They parted after a minute… Eileen had to push herself up after discovering she was now lying on top of him.
"I'll be quick," she restated.
"How about I meet yeh upstairs?" Toby suggested. "The draft down 'ere is terrible. An' I'll make us some dinner."
"The torment you'll go through to get me into bed after all these years…" she swung her still-numb leg over his hips and made her way over to the door. Toby shifted and looked at her with what could be described as an air of melancholy. "What is it?" she asked.
"Nothin'" he whispered. "Yeh know I love yeh, Ei."
Sometimes… perhaps… she thought.
"I know," she said.
And as Eileen stood under the shower five minutes later, feeling blood return into every capillary in her body as the water washed away the stresses of the day, she could have almost completely forgotten the Potions Book that had been permanently etched into the back of her mind since Aurora Sinistra had placed it into her hands. She did forget it for a while.
Waiting to hear the pipes rush with water behind the wall, Tobias shifted himself off the couch and walked out into the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. He leaned forward and caught a glimpse of the bathroom right at the top of the steps; a light was creeping through its cracked and splintered frame and he could hear water splashing irregularly against the tub… Ei was definitely under it.
He bit his lip so hard that he tasted the metallic tang of blood.
Less than half a second later he found himself ripping open the cupboard door and searching frantically through his wife's handbag.
Tobias Snape had felt low, worthless and insignificant most of his life… but most of his life was nothing compared to how low he felt now. He found a brown leather purse and pulled out her hard earned five-pound note.
"Fuck," he swore bitterly as he shoved the cash into his pocket. Every fibre of his being wanted to eat itself for what he was doing… but there was no other possible way he was going to get that money, no other possible way other than scrounging around for whatever money he could get his hands on, be that the few bob he received for slaving his life away, finding pennies on the street, nicking it from old crones who had left their purses in their shopping trolleys… stealing it from his own wife… he had reached around thirty five quid at the moment – there was still a while to go.
I have no choice. He could feel his conscious screaming into his brain. Once I pay Parker off, I'll be on the straight and narrow, by God I'll get out of this habit, I'll treat Eileen like a Princess when this is over.
He didn't even believe it, but he told it to himself regardless.
Toby smashed his head against the sharp corner of the cupboard. The throbbing fiery hot pain that resulted was just enough to prevent him from tearing the whole room apart in anger. What he would do for a fucking drink right now. He wondered if he still had that cheap piss he kept hidden behind the fridge left, the lure to check and to down it all in one go was maddeningly strong, as was the urge to spend the five quid in his pocket down the pub – but Ei deserved a sober husband for once, and a husband who paid off his debts in order to protect her from violent loan sharks and drug dealers…
It was the least he could do. It was the most he ever would do.