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Midday
I stood up quietly, saying, "I'll show them" to no one in particular. brushing myself off, I set off Well, I guess I just have to...catch jack the ripper myself. Thinking critically, I realize how much of a tall order that is. I'll just start small... for now. More importantly, I need a job.
I leave my sad alleyway and head back towards the shopping district.
"There's got to be a position available," I say out loud, in a hushed tone.
Walking through and seeing the many different storefronts, I can't help but feel underqualified for everything. Jeez, there has to be something I can do! And then, I found it. A small high society boutique near the heart of the district. Sewing! How could I forget? I've sewn all of my cosplays and clothes since I was 11. This must be destiny. The storefront is elegantly decorated with white paint and silver vines. The glass gives a view of the many court gowns and high society ballgown for someone of status to purchase.
I walk in, unsure of myself, and slowly ring the bronze bell suspended over an elegant wood desk.
"Just a minute, ma' am!" I hear a woman shout from the backroom. A minute later, a woman wearing a finely made dress comes out. She eyes me up and down, knowing full well that I can't afford anything made here.
"yes?" she asks. I contemplate asking if she has any positions available, I take a deep breath, It's now or never.
"Are you hiring?"
She stares at me for a second then reaches under the desk for a leatherbound journal. She flips through for a minute.
" yes, we are hiring. Would you like to apply?" She scribbles down something in an illegible font down in the book.
I stammer, "erm...Yes?"
"However, before I hire you, do you have any previous experience sewing?
I nod my head
"Great! You can start right now." she closes the journal and puts it back under the desk. She beckons me over to a small room in the back with heaps of bolts of fabric, loose trim, and drawers full of loose finely made buttons.
She turns to me. "I need this room organized by shade, texture, and quality. our last girl left it in disarray after she was fired."
I wonder why she was fired? I thought to myself. Before the woman could leave, I had to ask a few questions.
"miss?...Um."
"Miss Hall."
"right...How much does this job pay?"
"Since you will be provided a uniform, bed, board, and the opportunity to work for us. your daily wage will be 4 pence."
FOUR PENNIES? For the entire day?! I quickly put away my shocked expression, I quickly get to work; remembering what jasmine told me.
2018, Jasmine's room
"you know you shouldn't hog all the popcorn Jas," I say in a sarcastic tone. She eats another handful of caramel popcorn.
"Hey, when we're in my room, it's my rules," she says, we laugh and turn to the small mounted tv in her room. It was playing a historical documentary about victorian life. Jasmine loves historical documentaries, movies, books, etc. And tonight was our monthly sleepover, and she had full reign over the remote. As I watch the documentary, I hear the narrator say, "many Britons earn less than 40 pounds per year." I turn to Jasmine to dispute the fact. Jas looks to see me and pauses the tv. While turning to me after my staring
"what?
"is it true?"
"oh... the money thing. Yes, it's true. Life was pretty rough for most people back then." She grabs some more popcorn, in the process of getting some stuck in her ginger hair. "As much as I love this era, it would suck to actually live there."
1880, fabric storeroom
It took hours, but I finally organized the hundreds of multicolored fabrics. Heading towards the door, I'm met with a collision between another girl and me. She had chocolate brown hair pulled up into intricate braids, was wearing glasses, and wore an even shabbier dress than mine which looked strikingly similar to the one miss Hall was wearing. She also held a large basket filled with dirty and misshapen scraps of, presumably, dresses and other items.
"Watch it will ya?" she said in an annoyed and aggressive tone. She got up and picked up her basket, which had fallen spilling the contents all over the wood floor. I just got a new idea.
"Hey, what's that?"I say, pointing to the basket. She looks down at the roughly laundry basket sized basket.
"it's just some scraps. along with this." she pulls out a bolt of heavy chocolate-colored wool fabric with a clear wheel mark running across the length. "The carriage ran it over, and them fancy ladies won't take it, so it has to be thrown out."
"wait!" the girl turns around, "is there any way I could take that bolt off your hands?"
"hmm..." she puts her finger on her chin, pretending to think deeply.
"I'll tell you what. For 2 pennies, I could part with this entire basket of scraps plus the bolt of wool. what do you say?"
"deal." we shake hands "also, what is your name?" at this question, the girl seemed delighted.
"Margret. and yours?"
"Emily. So... how long have you worked here?
"Since I was 11, I'm turning 18 this year and should be nearing the end of my apprenticeship. I'm going to be working on my most high profile client tomorrow. I'm soooo excited," she checks the clock hanging in the storeroom. "shit. Uh. I'll put the bolt and scraps in our room. You can pay me when you get up there" She quickly heads off towards the staircase at the far end of the room.
"our room?"
I turn towards the front of the store where Miss hall is locking the door. She sees me and beckons me over.
"you...girl," Miss hall says, snapping her fingers at me.
"My name is Emily."
"Don't disrespect me, girl... Have you finished cleaning the storeroom yet?"
I say yes, and we both walk towards the storeroom showing the neatly folded and put away bolts, buttons, and other odds and ends. Looking satisfied, she hands me my 4 pence and points me in the direction of the stairs towards my new room.
Walking up the creaky wood floors towards my new room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. What if it's as bad as the other house I stayed in? Or what if- I open the Oak door. The room thankfully is furnished with a small workbench and a primitive sewing machine along with some sewing supplies. The bed appears to be filled with straw and quite lumpy. I mean, at least I have a bed. Right? On the less "lived in" bed, there is the bolt of run over wool along with scraps, trims, and buttons. On the left of these items is a matching dress to market along with, shockingly, Margaret herself.
She outstretches her hand, waiting for the agreed-upon payment. I hand it to her.
"pleasure doing business with ya." she puts the pennies into a small locked box inside a locked cabinet.
"Margret? have you heard any rumors about the viscount of Druitt throwing a party soon?
"Yes, I've heard during the fittings that it will be next week. Why do you ask?" she said, undoing her braids and changing into a nightdress.
I look over towards the sewing machine and basket of scraps or rather fancy dressmaking materials.
"I'm going to go to that party."
Author's note: sorry this took an extra day to upload I accidentally deleted the story while editing. To make it up I made the chapter extra long. I might upload again today ;)
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