Nine Shillings

Three's a Crowd

London - 1842

I was back in my empty room at the tenements, surrounded by the cacophony of coughs and voices. My younger self was stuffing the collection of books Bran had given her into a sack.

'It's that man, isn't it?' Tessa said, arms crossed over her chest. 'I heard the rumours, I didn't think they were true.'

'I'm moving on with my life, Tessa. Move on with yours,' young Lot said. 'We're not children anymore.'

'You'll come back for me?'

'Why won't you let me live my life?' I asked.

'We promised each other we'd escape from this together.'

'No, you told me we would,' young Lot snapped. 'You never asked my opinion on anything, you told me what it was.' She crouched down by the hidey-hole next to the fire and removed the loose board. 'I want my own life.'

'You sold yourself to a man, it's not your life.'

Young Lot rose, board clamped in her hands, and stepped right into Tessa's personal space. 'I chose him. My choice. My life.'

Tessa backed up a step. Young Lot tossed the board aside then grabbed the collection of coins tucked away under the floor.

'It isn't,' Tessa said. 'He owns you.'

Young Lot grabbed her sack and shoved passed Tessa. 'Given you tried to sell me that's a bloody liberty.'

'I don't get a second chance but you'll defend a man you barely know?'

'You've had a second chance. A third. A fourth.' Young Lot stopped at the door, hand on the knob. 'You've been letting me down since the day I met you and I'm letting go.'

'There are no second chances, Lot, you'll see.'

✽✽✽

I jerked awake and rubbed my eyes. I was sitting in the rocking chair in Edward's room with him snuggled in my arms sucking Rawr's nose in his sleep. The storybook I'd been reading from had dropped on the floor at my feet.

I got up and tucked Edward into bed, careful not to wake him, then picked up the book and smoothed the page the impact had bent. I ran my fingers over Bran's precise calligraphy. At the beginning of each story he'd drawn an illuminated letter that showed what the story was about. The story the book was open at had a little dragon twisted into an O and breathing fire, angled so it wouldn't burn its own tail. I closed the book and set it on the bedside table.

There are no second chances, Lot.

How many was I up to? More than two, I suspected.

I'd made a mistake again; it wasn't only about survival, whatever I did Tessa was going to punish me. I'd left her behind and thrived while things got worse for her, as far as she was concerned it was all my fault.

I sighed and put the book back on the bedside table ready for the next story. Actions had consequences, no matter how much I tried to calculate them it was impossible to foresee every one. But I wouldn't have done anything different. Tessa's actions were her own, not mine.

I bumped into Bran outside the door.

He blushed. 'I sensed you dreaming and wondered if I should knock.'

'Sensed me dreaming?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know what. You weren't happy about it though.'

I leaned into him. 'I don't dream.'

'Sorry.'

'Observation, not critique.' I pressed against his chest and wrapped my arms around him. 'We fought hard for this, I'm not giving it up.'