Chapter 3
I didn't come for lunch that day either, or dinner, Father did try to at least make me eat something. But I just wanted to be left alone, in my own little world, the world that was breaking into tiny pieces along with my heart, in front of my very eyes. "Lydia. Are you decent?" my father spoke softly. "I have the spare key to your bedroom and I'm coming in." I didn't bother replying after all he was coming in anyway. The key slowly turned in the brass lock and then my father bearing worried expression on his face appeared into my vision. He had a plate with some cheese on a piece of bread. He put it in my lap; he was obviously concerned by my not eating and also the visible deep red rings under my eyes from crying. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong? This is obviously not about our little spat the other night is it?" I didn't answer. "Lydia you're going to have to tell me sooner or later what's wrong, or I could just ask that Turner boy from the Blacksmith's? You seem to tell him more than you tell me." My father said thinking this would open up me but instead I crumbled:
"He won't know. He never knows!" A small hiccupping sob came through, my father's eyes widened "Ah my dear, sweet daughter, you love him don't you." "I do? No! He doesn't and... and…" I started to cry again. Why am I telling him this? He won't understand
"It's a smart match you know a blacksmith apprentice and a bakers daughters daughter are the same class, and you would be an attractive couple too, with both of you with dark hair and eyes and tanned skin. I would give you my blessing as he is a nice boy and you my dear seem to like him enough. Or is that not the problem?" I shuck my head fiercely. "Oh he doesn't see you like that, does he? It's that stuck-up governor's daughter. Elizabeth is it? I may be old but I'm not completely blind my darling, I see that look in his eyes when he looks at her. He'll not give up on her, you know, the special ones like William don't, he'll fight for what he wants. Trust me and eventually she'll realise that she loves him back to make a statement as her as her father wouldn't approve. Darling it's better to stay friends move on and save yourself the heartache, and plus by trying to fight for what you want, you could lose what you already have." Then he wrapped his arms around me, and I knew he was right. But that fiery side in me started to burn. I'm not going to sit here and give up; I'm also going to fight back for what I want, it won't cost me my friendship if I'm careful, but I can't just move on . This decision would influence the rest of my life!
"Now freshen up and get dressed my dear, then you can pop over and visit William if you like. Lydia eat some of that bread and cheese that I brought you." My father ordered as he saw me once again placing the plate with the bread and cheese on back onto the wooden floor. "I'll get you a glass of water. Oh, and Lydia be back in time for dinner."
As I roughly pulled my pale blue dress over my head and slipped on the pumps which matched the gown, which was the same dress that I wore to the beach with Will two days ago. Its hem was frayed and dirty, smelling vaguely of salt and sand dropped off as I walked, if I had ruined that gown – which was most probable. I would be wearing that same one still until I could afford to buy a new dress or my birthday came and I could have a new gown as my main present. After all I was not Elizabeth Swann and my father was not the Governor of Port Royal and he would not just at a snap of his fingers buy the most elaborate and beautiful dress for me for no particular occasion other than the fact that I had ruined my own but Elizabeth probably das more than one gown for everyday use and one for formal where for the rarity that we would be invited to a ball.
My stomach suddenly gave a huge gurgle and I realised that although I earlier thought that I wasn't hungry I actually was actually starving, I devoured my bread and cheese in seconds .I ran down the stairs and grabbed a loaf of ginger cake off of the shop counter, I stepped out of the shop I was and on the way to the Blacksmiths no doubt where Will would be hard at work and Mr. Brown would be drinking in his house or drunk.
Taking in my surroundings as I walked through the centre of Port Royal it was a short walk from the Bakery to the Blacksmiths but I always enjoyed living in the town because of the busy and bustling atmosphere the feeling that everyone minus the rich upper class girls where all hard at work. I loved the feeling that if you ran out of anything there would always be a neighbour happy to lend you some, and be a helping hand. The only thing about Port Royal that I couldn't stand where those rich upper class girls like Elizabeth whom did nothing but most girls still aspire to be like her because she had the best clothes and fashion, this feeling wasn't jealousy it was a dislike as I had met most of those girls in some way and almost all of them where stuck up and rude who loved themselves and thought the working class to be inferior and turned their noses up at them.
I finally reached the blacksmith's shop and from stood outside the wooden doors I could her loud shouting, a man's voice but not Will's that was definitely not Will. It was an older man I could hear shouting when I pressed my ear up against the door. It was definitely Mr. Brown .I could only here the odd word and I pressed my ear even harder onto the door Mr. Brown was shouting at Will over when we went to the beach the other day but clearly he didn't know where Will had gone. Now that I think about it do remember my father telling me that Mr. Brown and his wife where going away for the week to Kingston. Mr. Brown must have just returned home to find that Will had lots of work still to be done that should have been completed earlier in the week. Mr. Brown was yelling loudly at Will he was saying something like "If all this work isn't finished by the morning William you're fired!" Oh no Will can't lose this job he's so good at it and if he does he will have nowhere to stay and only little money and he will be crushed, how all of his hard work was for nothing. If this happens he could stay with us for a while father wouldn't object he would agree if both of us helped in the shop. No, no Will wants to be a blacksmith not a baker. What am I to do?
