Stay

A/n: Hello again. Luckily the computer's safe, for now. I can't thank you guys enough! 100 faves, 111 follows and 140 reviews already! It's all down to your support. I thank all of you. I love writing because of all you lovely amazing people! Please keep the reviews coming in. Write what you think I should improve at. That's really important because I want to know and appreciate your opinions.

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Chapter 19

Daddy and I sat down to dinner after he got home from the square. I had smoothed my hair down and put on a face of sheer boredom from being "trapped in the house for the whole evening". I knew Dad wouldn't recognize Jack even if he passed right by him on the street when he came back. Peggotty was in her room, saying she felt a little tired and would rest early. The new servants waited on us, and I felt a bit uneasy with them around. A large jug of milk, cold ham, fried rice and pheasant were presented before us. Daddy dug in at once. I tried to eat as much as I could, but I was still full from Jack's wonderful picnic.

'So about that boy…John?' 'It's Jack, Dad.' I frowned a little. 'Yes Jack. Which school does he go to?' Daddy took a sip of juice and gazed at me. 'Uh, I'm not sure if he even goes to school.' I had to lie that the only time I ever saw him was the night I was attacked. And no one talks about school when you're trying to get home as fast as possible. 'Well, I'll be sure to check in on him tomorrow at his house. Gotta thank him for saving my girl.' I glanced at him. 'Can I come?' I asked. Daddy seemed to consider it. 'Best not, sweetie. I'm going in the evening, and Peggotty needs you to help her sort out the kitchen.' My heart sank. 'You do know where he lives, right?' I asked. My father nodded his head and twisted his moustache. 'Been asking around my colleagues. One of them is taking me there first thing tomorrow.' He finished his chicken and a servant whisked the empty plate away. I picked at mine with a fork..

'What do they say about him?' I asked, trying to sound casual. 'Oh, some queer stuff. Says he's quite poor, but a fine gentleman. Father vanished a couple years ago, the mother sick in bed. Rick also said he's considered to be the town's pretty boy, admired by many but too poor for the lasses to consider marrying.' I was a bit annoyed at this. I don't know if it was the many admirers bit or the part where he was too poor for anyone. 'You haven't seen him yet,' I said. Daddy vaguely nodded his head, staring into his empty glass. He was thinking of something again. 'Well, good night Daddy. Help me say hi to Jack.' I kissed his cheek and bounded up the stairs into my room. I took out the bit of cheese Jack gave me from its cloth and popped it into my mouth. Enjoying the smooth sensation on my tongue, I changed into my bedclothes and buried myself in the blankets. I stared up at the ceiling and prayed that Jack got along well with my dad. He wasn't easy to please.

Jack

Okay, I actually didn't have more cheese at home. It was the last block in the house, and we'd have to milk the goats again for more. I took it because I made it myself, and I wanted to know what she thought about it. And I gave her the rest to see her smile. I had quite a hard time sneaking it out under Pippa's nose, that girl was getting smarter and sharper every day. Maybe it was because Father had gone, and she had to learn to grow up. I thought it was a bit too fast. I watched from my seat on the bed as she sat at her little table, her brown hair covering her face as she concentrated on her drawing. The light from the lamp beside her illuminated her young face. I loved her so much, but she was growing up and as a boy there were just some things about girls I didn't know how to explain to her. Mother was lying in her bed again, her fragile figure huddled in the blankets. I was used to the tough winter, and lent her my blanket when she was too cold.

I hated myself. I knew I worked hard to feed the family, but I hated that I lost the chance of having a father in my life. If I had just begged him to stay that day, I knew he would have. But now I couldn't think about that. Pippa was walking to me with her drawing. 'Look Jack.' She handed me the parchment. I grinned at the snow bunny drawn by my sister, the eyes big and curious, the fur fluffy and full. I felt the tension in its legs before the leap, the ears twitching here and there. 'You're a gifted artist, Pippa.' I gave the drawing back to her and kissed her head. She laughed and my mother stirred, turning on her side to look at us. 'Hello Jack,' she whispered, smiling at me. I forced myself to return it. I still couldn't forgive her for neglecting us so long. The day after my dad left, she started to not get up in the mornings. Her body became weaker, and I had to bring the crops and animals to the market to sell for money. Pippa helped me with the farm work, but I'd shoo her off to school. I went with her when I could, when the sale from the day before was good and we had enough money to pull through the day.

Mother wasn't really ill. She was so heartbroken by what my dad had done it was like she didn't have the strength to do anything anymore. I'd long since stopped asking her what the problem was and had taken matters into my own hands. Winter made it even harder. There were no crops and the only thing we had to sell was milk and cheese from the goats and cows. I had to pay attention to the young foals and kids to make sure they didn't die from the cold.

But on good days, I'd walk along the street and someone would press a dollar bill into my hand, talking about how sorry they were for me and that I would please take this for the family, etc. Many people bought the milk though, either because they were sorry for me or that it tasted really good. I'd like to think it was the latter.

Pippa had gone back to her drawing at the table. I walked over to sit beside my mother. 'Hi mom,' I said. Today she had more strength in her. She sat up slowly and reached up a hand to run her fingers through my hair. 'You're growing more and more handsome everyday,' she said with a proud smile. I cringed and rolled my eyes. 'What use is that? Being handsome doesn't bring food onto the table.' That wasn't really true. Some girls at school would bring me baskets of cookies or sweets. Taylor said it was because of my looks. 'They think you're hot,' he said before swiping a gingerbreadman out of a new basket this blonde girl gave me before kissing me on the cheek and running off to her giggling friends. I thought it was ridiculous. Those girls were pretty, but I didn't have time to waste on these things

Mother patted my cheek and smiled again. It made her look younger and more beautiful. From old pictures, I knew my mom was very beautiful, until there was a case where two men fought against each other to get her hand in marriage. Someone had pulled her out from between them, and that man would later become my father.

I took her arm and held it in mine. Suddenly I wanted to curl up in her arms and stay there, like how I did when I was little. I feared I wouldn't be able to take care of her and Pippa, let alone myself. Mother brushed my hair with her fingers again. It was her thing. I let her do that, my mind drifting away from the house and searching for something other than this cruel reality.

I thought of her.

Never had I thought I would get caught up with the only daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in the city. But the weird thing was she didn't act like a merchant's daughter. She was so down-to-earth and funny. I liked her name, (f/n). It didn't sound common around here. I actually spotted her walking behind her wagon the day she moved here. What puzzled me was why a merchant's daughter would want to walk into her new home when she could've been sitting in her comfy wagon. I thought it a bit attention seeking, but that seemed impossible when I met her again a few hours ago. She really shocked me by climbing down the house and across the gate just to meet me. The whole thing was so funny and amazing I started grinning.

'What are you thinking of, Jack?' I heard my mom ask. I quickly wiped the grin off my face and looked at her. 'Oh, nothing. Someone told a funny joke at the market today.' Only I wasn't at the market. I was having a picnic with (f/n). 'Its late, mother.' I patted her hand and got up out of the chair beside her. She looked at me mournfully, then lay down and turned to her other side, a tiny figure in a sea of blankets. I went over to Pippa. 'Bedtime, girl.' I gently tugged on her ponytail, making her squeal. 'Jack!' she swiped at me and I ducked, grinning. Pippa gathered up her papers and pens, eyeing me with her eyes in slits. Taking the lamp, I watched as she put her beloved materials carefully beneath her mattress before going to wash her face. Then it was my turn. I splashed the warm water onto my face and stared at my reflection in the rippling water. Brown eyes, brown hair. I ran a finger down my nose and onto my lips. Grinning, I looked at my teeth. Thankfully they had grown nice and straight, not like some of my friends' buck teeth. I guess I was quite good looking, and if people said I was handsome, so be it.

I walked back to my bed, listening to the wind whistling outside and blowing through narrow cracks in the boards of the house. Tonight would be very cold. I shivered slightly as I checked on my mother. She had one of my thick blankets around her, and she slept soundly. I smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her on the cheek, whispering good night to her. I creaked towards my bed and sat down on it, placing the lamp onto the table beside me. Pippa was already tucked up in bed. She opened her sleepy eyes. 'Good night, Jack.' She went back to sleep. I blew the lamp out and opened the drawer in the table. Fumbling about, I pulled out a thick cotton jumper. I changed out of my shirt and slipped the jumper on, stuffing the shirt back into the drawer.

I'd lent my duvet to my mom because we had to sell hers for money to buy food. Pippa wanted to give hers to me but I didn't want it. I still had my quilt from Grandma and a few blankets. Tucking myself in, I stared up at the ceiling and suddenly had a burning desire to see (f/n). This was unreasonable, I thought to myself. I'd just seen her this afternoon. I turned over to my side and closed my eyes.

I went to church the next day with Pippa, after making sure mother had her breakfast. I looked around the hall at the people standing at the pews, half-hoping (f/n) came to church. My eyes found a girl some way ahead, with a long (h/c) braid running down her back. It looked like her enough. There was another middle aged woman beside her, about a head shorter. The girl turned around as the priest droned on through Holy Communion, and our eyes met. It really was her. (f/n) stared at me then blushed and gave me a small wave. I grinned back. She turned away and I felt Pippa tug at my sleeve. 'Is that the rich girl?' she whispered, pointing towards (f/n)'s direction. I nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. 'Why's your face red?' she asked. I frowned. 'It's stuffy in here,' I mumbled. Pippa put on a knowing smirk.

When service ended, I stayed in my seat with her, waiting for most of the crowd to file out. I felt a tap on my shoulder. 'Hi.' (f/n) was grinning at me, her other hand in a fur muff. I smiled. 'So you come to church?' I ask. She nodded. That's when I noticed her maid staring at me. The people queued up behind her scowled and moved around, impatient to get out. Only a few other stragglers were left in the church hall. I stood up and looked at the woman. 'Hello, my name's Jack.' I held out a hand. She stared for a while more, then took my hand and shook it. 'You must be the wonder boy,' she said, smiling. I liked her immediately, with her kind face and pepper-and-salt hair. 'Oh, Peggotty,' (f/n) looked exasperatedly at the woman. I laughed. 'I'm no wonder boy, miss.' Peggotty smiled again. 'We thank you, dear, for bringing (f/n) back safely. She was so careless,' she chided, looking at (f/n) disapprovingly. The girl smiled cheekily back.

'Can I touch your braid?' Pippa's head popped out behind me. She was staring at (f/n), her eyes serious. 'My name's Pippa.' She extended her arm, glancing sideways at me. I knew she was annoyed I didn't introduce her. I was amazed at her cheek, though. (f/n) smiled and shook her hand. 'Here,' she let her braid dangle down her shoulder and Pippa's hands examined it. I mentally slapped myself. Glaring at my sister, I watched as she felt (f/n)'s hair and let go of it. 'Your hair is very nice,' she said with a cute smile. (f/n) laughed, a happy sound that made me want to laugh along with her. She patted Pippa's head. 'You're so adorable, you know that?' she said to my sister.

Peggotty cleared her throat. 'I'm sorry, Jack, but we must get going. Hurry up, (f/n).'

(f/n) took my hand and squeezed it. 'My dad's coming this evening,' she whispered. I groaned in my mind. 'Relax, you'll be fine.' She smiled at me before hurrying to catch up with her maid.

I wanted to tell her I was far from fine. I also forgot to ask her if she was coming along

'Why'd you do that?' I hissed at Pippa as we walked home, crunching through the snow. 'I like her.' She grinned at me. I rolled my eyes at her. 'Just promise me you won't embarrass me like that ever again,' I said exasperatedly. She scowled. 'I didn't embarrass anyone.'

We reached home. I went in and found Mother sitting up in bed, stitching a kerchief. 'You're up, Mama.' Pippa crossed over to her in an instant and wrapped her arms around Mother. I sighed. 'The clothesman's coming at evening,' I announced. That was the nickname for (f/n)'s dad. I wasn't being rude, everyone used it. My mom's face whitened. 'Its okay mom, everything will go fine.' I smirked at myself, using the exact same words as (f/n).

When the sun was setting, I let Pippa go out to run about in front of the house while I went to check on the livestock. The goats and cows were huddled together in their pens, a wide roof sheltering them. I counted the little ones. Eighty. Guess no one died yet.

I'd washed my hands and was walking back towards the house when I saw Pippa talking to two men at the front door. One was thin and had a sharp goatee. I recognized him as Sir Moteley, head of the local boarding house. The other one was tall and large, with a magnificent bristling moustache. He was dressed in a formal suit. My throat tightened. It was him.

Pippa pointed to me. I hurried up, my worn boots complaining as I half-ran towards them. Before I could say anything, (f/n)'s dad spoke. 'My dear boy, how can I ever repay you!' His two enormous hands took mine and shook them firmly, and I caught a glimpse of pure gold beneath his cuff. 'Uh, you must be (f/n)'s father,' I said, untying my tongue. 'Yes, yes, yes. I am. And you are…' he turned to Sir Moteley. He whispered something into the large man's ear. 'Jack Frost!' Mr (l/n) boomed. I saw Pippa slowly shifting towards the door. 'I'd like to meet your mother, eh?' he said. I thought quickly. 'I'm sorry sir, but my mother, she's been quite ill lately—' 'Oh what a pity! In that case I shall entrust you with this.' He took a large hamper about the size of a from the ground. I hadn't noticed it before. It was wrapped in silk cloth and weighed more than Pippa. 'Thank you, sir,' I said, amazed. There must be enough food in there to suffice for a whole week.

'Well I'd best be off now. Once again thank you for saving my beloved daughter, young man. She's at home with a fever, would've come along if she could. If you need anything, don't hesitate to find me.' With that he turned and walked towards his carriage which was parked a short distance away, Sir Moteley following him, looking around at the grounds with distaste. I watched them ride off before bringing the hamper into the house, staggering a little under its weight. I was confused. (f/n) looked just fine at church this morning, how could she have fallen sick all of a sudden? I set the hamper onto our small dining table. My mother and sister were both looking at it with eager eyes. Mom even sat up a little straighter than usual in bed. Untying the golden silk cloth, I jumped as Pippa squealed. The huge basket was filled with all kinds of preserved meats, toffee, candy, fruits, biscuits, etc. I took them all out, putting the foods onto the table as I dug deeper into the basket. Finally I came to a package at the very bottom. Pulling it out, I ripped it open and watched open-mouthed as clothes tumbled out into the basket. Pippa held up a new dress, and there were a few rolls of cloth for Mother to sew. There was a thick long sleeved shirt I was sure was mine.

I suddenly felt furious. I hated being pitied. The food was okay, but the clothes seemed like a humiliation to me. We didn't buy clothes from that man unless we were forced to.

His factory was chugging out grey smoke all day, making the air around it hard to breathe. His business was good here only because Burgess was a large trading town. I wasn't going to go around wearing his shirt and rejoicing about his goodness to our family.

Pippa helped me pack away the food into the pantry while my mom admired the clothes and material. I didn't really care about them, she could do whatever she wanted with the cloth, and Pippa would look beautiful in her dress. I cleaned up early, warding off my sister's questions by saying I was exhausted. I climbed into bed and drew the covers over my head. As I listened to the scrape of Pippa's chair on the floor as she drew it to sit close to Mother, I thought about (f/n). It all seemed fishy, the way her dad said she was sick. I didn't think it was true. I hoped he would let her go to school, though. I wanted to ask her about it.

Me

I awakened to a ridiculous downpour of rain. My heart sank. Daddy surely wouldn't let me go to school in such weather. He'd met the principal yesterday and had everything settled already. I wondered if Jack would go.

Sitting up in bed, I looked out my window at the silvery sheet of rain falling onto the city. I couldn't make anything out at all. The wind blew against the window panes, making them ratter slightly. I got out and changed into a presentable dress. Perhaps the rain would stop soon. I washed my face in the basin on the other side of the room. And I almost forgot to leave the nightgown on my bed for the servant to collect. Peggotty had insisted, saying she didn't want my father complaining to her about their laziness. I also took a little satchel with me with papers and pens.

Downstairs, Daddy was having eggs and ham. I sat across from him. 'I start school today, right?' I asked. Surprisingly, he nodded. 'We have a carriage now,' he beamed. I looked out the door and sure enough, parked outside in the rain was a magnificent carriage. The horses must be in the stables on the side of the house. I grinned all the way through breakfast.

Finally we were ready to go. The coachman held an umbrella over me as he walked me to the carriage, then handing me into the comfy, large interior which had red velvet cushioning. The exterior was gilded with brass and made of strong mahogany. I watched as stable workers led two beautiful chestnut horses away from their stalls and fasten them to the carriage. Daddy must've brought the carriage and horses in when I was asleep at night since I don't remember seeing them at all. Business was blasting and we could afford much more now. The beasts stomped and pawed at the ground, nervous and wet. Daddy got in quickly. The workers fastened eye pads over the horses' eyes. Then they pulled open the large gate. The coachman flicked his whip and we were off.

As we trundled along, I looked around me. This was much more comfortable than sitting in a wagon. 'Are you sure you want to go to the public school, (f/n)? The private one offers better classes.' That was the third time my father asked me that. I nodded my head. 'But it will seem strange for a merchant's daughter to go there,' he pressed on. 'I've seen the private school, father. The students don't seem too friendly, actually.' It was true. I'd passed by with Peggotty one day to pick up new dresses from the tailor's.

It must have been the time when lessons ended. All sorts of carriages were parked in front of the school, parents and coachmen talking at the gate. Students were coming out of the gate, all dressed in silk and fur and leather. The girls had styled hair and make-up and walked so daintily it seemed they would break into a million pieces if they went any faster. The boys had on prim ties and handsome but haughty faces. We had to manoeuvre our way slowly through the crowd. I couldn't stay in their midst for three minutes without wanting to scream.

There was a girl who knocked into me as she chatted with the boy beside her. She turned to look at me, her carefully lined brows frowning. I stood my ground as we stared each other down. She lifted a dainty gloved hand and brushed exaggeratedly at the spot where we made contact. I remained emotionless. 'Well, I'm waiting for your apology,' she said, a sickeningly polite smile on her pretty face. 'Then you can keep waiting. I wasn't the one who knocked into you.' I caught a glimpse of her nametag. Lorrel Greengard. Must be the daughter of dad's assistant.

Lorrel's eyes widened. Clearly she wasn't used to being treated this way. I smirked. 'You dirtied my coat. My father—' 'Works under my father, for your petty information.' It was my turn to examine my shoulder and brush off invisible dust. She looked at me in curiosity, the fact that my dad was the boss of Hems and Weaves dawning on her. She blushed furiously and rose to her full height which was about the same as mine. 'Come along, Lorrie, your father's waiting for you.' The boy beside her was blond, about a head taller than both of us. He had a hand on her waist. The girl looked up at him and nodded her curly head, giving him a simpering smile. I was about to gag. They were odious. Lorrel glared at me once again before walking off. I swear I could see smoke seeping out her ears. I was about to turn away when the boy looked back and gave me a quick smile. I frowned back, blushing despite myself. I shook my head and went to find Peggotty, wanting to get out of this crowd full of perfume and disgusting elegance.

'But you are from the upper class, (f/n). Imagine how it would reflect on me, sending my only child to a public school!' he exclaimed, his moustache bristling. I swallowed my argument. It was time to pull out the old trick. I pouted and clasped Daddy's large arm, looking up at him pitifully. 'Daddy please understand. It's what I want. Don't you want to see me happy?' I brought myself close to tears, hoping it seemed convincing. This daddy's-little-girl technique was the only thing that had to work. And it did. The man sighed and patted my head. 'Alright pumpkin. I won't bother you with that anymore.' I put on a large grin and kissed his cheek. As I settled myself back on my seat, I grimaced inwardly. I was too old for that anymore.

We rolled along the streets. Already the rain was lessening. I caught glimpses of paper boys dashing about to make the first deliveries of the morning, shop holders opening up for the day, businessmen hailing cabs. A good many villagers stared at our carriage as we passed, the fine vehicle perhaps looking slightly out of place as we turned off from the richer part of the city. I tried to smile at them. Finally the carriage started to slow. The rain was merely a dull patter now. I peered out the front window of the carriage and saw an old, friendly-looking building growing larger and larger as we approached. The coachman turned the corner and another taller, newer building came in sight. There was a board nailed on the low wall surrounding them: Burgess Public School. Suddenly I felt my hands start to sweat. 'I'm nervous, papa.' I thought of Jack. I wasn't clear if I was nervous at the thought of meeting new people or of him. 'They'll love you, sweetheart,' my father said. He got out and came over to the other side. The coachman had opened the door on my side. I sucked in a deep breath, secured my satchel and let him help me out.