Memories
Disclaimer: This story features characters taken from the show "Ripper Street" by BBC/Amazon Prime. I don't own any of them.
It was the worst of times, it was the best of times. The best because at last he had found a woman who knew that a man had needs. The worst because he knew that he was the only one who still had hope that his daughter Mathilda was still alive. He simply couldn't give up on her. He couldn't betray her. So he kept on looking for signs, for traces of her. And he tried to keep that hope alive in Mrs. Reid, although he knew he'd failed there. And now that Silver fellow had come along. Reid remembered him well, he was one of the men on that ship. If he was alive, then his daughter might still be among the living too and his hope was not in vain. If only his wife was able to extent her faith beyond church and towards that straw he had held near all this time. But they had drifted further apart the longer he hoped. The only person who understood his needs was Miss Goren from the orphanage. Reid had no idea why he had acted the way he did that day, acting on an impulse that had sparked from nowhere and which had made him kiss her. He had been completely overwhelmed with surprise. Surprise about his actions and surprise about the fact that Miss Goren had returned his kiss. In fact, she had even leaned into him for more. And right at that moment, Reid had been ready to give more. But before they could act further, Bennet had interrupted. Blessed Bennet. His sergeant had looked like he just had been hit by lighting. Miss Goren and Reid had quickly brought some space between them, but the damage was done. Now Sergeant Drake knew his secret. But Reid trusted Drake with his life and he knew that the sergeant would keep that secret. Which of course didn't mean he had to approve.
Work called soon enough and left no room for reprimands. Women disappeared, Rose among them and they had to find her, quickly. Reid couldn't help himself but he felt the longing for his daughter with more force than usual. If Silver was alive, so must his daughter. Who knew, maybe Silver even knew what had happened to Mathilda a year ago. And if Silver was behind those disappearances, all the better. There were two hearts beating in his chest...That of the copper trying to save innocent alas unknown lives. And that of a father, trying to find his little girl. While his men looked for Silver and those girls, Reid went home to his wife, determined to convince her what he knew in his heart to be true. At last, he would tell her what had happened even if that meant she would blame him for Mathilda's fate. And she would be right to do so, for it was his fault. He was right. His wife thought him cruel for bringing Mathilda up again. His chest felt constricted when he told her. How he had taken their little girl with him on surveillance. Yes, he had been following Silver and since he didn't want to leave her home alone, he'd taken her with him. Edmund still remembered her face gleaming with joy when they came to the boats. Mathilda loved boats. Loves, Reid corrected himself. He must remember to speak in present tense about her. It was hard to thunk back to that fatal day, the moment the ship hit something and began to sink. He remembered it all too vividly. The cries, the shouting, the chaos. Somehow he'd lost Mathilda, she'd been washed away from him. He felt the panic again, the anguish. And then that roaring pain when the chimney of the steam boat came down onto him. Smouldering hot, it burned away his clothes and into his flesh. He still still smelled that sickening odour of burnt flesh, his flesh. He cried out, almost fainting with pain. Only the fear about Mathilda had kept him awake then.
He tried to free himself from the chimney, but he was too weak. The metal kept burning into his flesh. Reid frantically tried to find his little girl among all those faces, stricken with panic. There! To his right! There was his little angel! Edmund tried to cry out for her, but suddenly the upper deck ...broke away and he hit the cold water, loosing sight of Mathilda again. The water soothed his pain but threatened to drown him.
Water washed over his head and got into his nose and mouth. Without thinking, Reid started treading water to try to get his head...above water again. His lungs started to burn from the lack of air. His shoulder hurt and hung useless by his side. He didn't know...which way was up; he simply tried to get to the light. He felt the pull from the sinking ship and had to find his last ounces of strength to...break through the surface. His lungs felt ready to burst when at last, he felt the cool air on his face and hungrily gulped it in.
As soon as his lungs stopped hurting, Reid looked around frantically. Where was Mathilda? Did she make it? Was she alive?Reid tried to swim on, away from the wreckage, but he couldn't feel his left shoulder, let alone use his arm. "Mathilda!" He yelled with all his strength...his deep voice booming across the water. A moment later, he heard a child's voice over the commotion and turned his head. And there she was!Only yards away from him, there was his angel! She was desperately clinging to a piece of driftwood, her face stricken with fright. "Mathilda! Hold on!"Reid shouted over and tried to get to her. But before he could reach her, his strength left him and everything went black.
Edmund woke like from a dream. He was back in his parlour, his wife sitting next to him on the sofa. She was crying and looked at him accusingly. Yes it was his fault, he knew that. And Emily's face showed him all he had to know. After his confession, how could she still love him? Reid looked at her and searched for some forgiveness, some glimmer of hope that his wife shared his despair, his hope against hope that Mathilda might still be among the living. But there was nothing, only that accusing look through eyes filled with tears. And right there, he knew. He knew that although he still loved his wife she would never forgive him. She would never share affection with him again or attend to his needs. He wanted to say something, anything to show her his...feelings for her, but he also knew it would make no difference. Mathilda's fate had torn them apart and nothing he would say or do could change that. He stood and looked down at his crying wife. The mother of his child. Was there still some hope between them? No, there was not. All of a sudden, Reid felt like he was suffocating, he needed to get out of this house. A house that used to be a home. Filled with love, laughter and the sound of little child's feet on the floor. But not any more. Now this house was cold, deprived of any emotions except hopelessness and despair.
Edmund grabbed his coat and hat and stormed out the front door. He walked aimlessly around London for he didn't know how long until he realised where his feet had brought him. The Jewish orphanage. He stood and watched Miss Goren put up laundry. She was beautiful, he realised. Something made her turn and she spotted him. A smile flashed on her face, but quickly disappeared again. They had to keep up appearances, for his sake as well as hers. They both had a reputation to protect. But as soon as the children were inside helping with chores, Reid stepped closed, his bowler hat in his hands. Miss Goren beckoned him inside and ushered him into her private room. Not a word was spoken between them.
She disappeared for a few moments, then the door opened again and Miss Goren sneaked in.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Edmund," she wondered in that foreign accent of hers.
"I...I needed to see you." He quickly closed the distance between them and embraced her in a fierce kiss, which she eagerly returned. When they parted, Miss Goren stepped back to bring some distance between them again.
"Edmund, I told you, you better go home to your wife."
Reid felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.
"Please...I..." He didn't know what to say. He felt his eyes water up. Not another person to push him away.
Miss Goren smiled sadly. She reached out to him and put her hand onto his cheek. She felt the stubble beneath her fingers. He leaned into that touch. So simply a gesture, but it meant so much to him. A lonely tear ran down his face and she tenderly wiped it away.
"You are always welcome here, Inspector, but this will not be helping you or me or your wife."
That she returned to call him by his title hurt Reid more than he cared to admit. He took a deep breath and broke the physical contact.
"Miss Goren," he nodded, put on his hat and left.