Chapter 27
Sam crouched in the alley behind the dressmaker’s shop. She covered most of her filthy nightgown with the brown wool jacket she had stolen from the hospital, but her legs were still exposed. She was practically naked. If a policeman walked by, she could be arrested for indecency. At least the shoes kept the broken gravel and horse droppings from her feet. She’d forgotten how much everyone wore in this country. Full-length dark dresses and a white blouse. A shawl or an apron over that and topped with a hat. That didn’t include the corset, for an hourglass figure and the petticoats for modesty.
“Come on, Ayasse, get me inside here. I don’t want to break the door,” she mumbled, rubbing her hands across her stomach and wincing at the small twinges in her rib. The exertion at the hospital hadn’t ripped open the stitches, and the wound seemed to be closing. Whatever was in that pill he had given her had kickstarted her healing as well as getting rid of the drugs in her body. Now all she needed was a better outfit and to wash her face.
She didn’t want to wear all those clothes, but she couldn’t go around in this jacket. The dresses she used to wear when she had her introduction to society at sixteen were heavy, restrictive, and hot. She hadn’t missed those in Relancia. Even the Demon Kingdom had better clothes. Forcing herself into them here every day had been a nightmare. Harrod’s department store would have been a better place to go, but there were too many guards. Something simple to keep the police and the weather off would be perfect. It was still summer, even if the evenings had a chill to them.
Pausing, Sam took a deep breath. Closed her eyes and let everything out. “This is no place for rambling.”
Peering around the corner, she saw that the street was empty. Most of the men were at the pubs and the prostitutes were there with them. After the Ripper, very few people walked the streets alone at night. Three policemen passed under one of the metal streetlamps a few minutes ago. The lamps stood three times the size of a man, and the new Tesla energy in them shoved away the darkness. It made the night safer, but she needed the darkness now.
The door to the dress shop creaked open, and Sam darted her way inside. “Took you long enough,” she whispered, shutting the door as she ducked. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Sorry,” Ayasse placed his hand behind his head, “The shadows here are still new to me and difficult to navigate. I took a few wrong turns.”
Sam clicked her tongue. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t speak like this. “No, I was just angry. This is my home, but that bastard Bob is forcing me to act like a thief. I don’t like that!” She scratched her nose and kept down. There was a large window in this dress shop and she didn’t want her silhouette to show from outside.
“What are you looking for?” Ayasse asked her.
“I need to dress better than this when I meet Timothy. I also need to find him. I remember where he was, but it’s been over ten years. So, I know an old friend who might be able to give me some directions, if I can find her. For that, something simple would be best, a black full-length dress. I’ll probably get the best results if I dress like a maid. They can go everywhere,” she said, looking at the selection of dresses they had. “That’s why we’re here. From what I remember, this area supplied most of the uniforms the maids in the house used.”
Ayasse picked up one of the dresses and felt the fabric. “It’s not very strong, and there’s no way it’ll protect you against the elements.” He wrinkled his nose. “How do you stay warm?”
“We layer on the underwear and wear a shawl or jacket over it.” Sam picked up a selection of undergarments and went behind a screen. “Stay over there on the other side of the screen. I’m going to clean up.”
In the back of the shop was a small basin and a bucket of water to get the wrinkles out of fabric. Sam took off the stained nightgown and used a new cloth to wipe her face. The cold water felt good after the heat from the pill.
“Kale was right. After the pain, the little things make life that much better,” she mumbled to herself, pushing thoughts of the orc out of her mind.
Clean, she stood up and went to the changing area. She laid the jacket and nightgown over the screen. Picking up the new clothes, she raised a lip.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Grunts and curses filled the small shop as she tried to force her way into the tiny fabric. A few of the garments ripped as she squeezed into them. It was difficult to control her strength.
“Are you okay in there?” Ayasse asked from the seat in the corner. He was trying to stay away from the windows and the Tesla lamps.
“Yes. It’s been a long time, and someone usually had to help me into these things,” Sam grunted again. “I hated wearing them. There’s also nothing in my size.”
“I could give you a hand?”
“No! Stay there.” Sam hopped around as she tried to settle the corset. Her upper body was too big and with all the training she did in Relancia, there was no way she would ever present an hourglass figure. “I just need to make it last until we can find Timothy.” She slipped and shoved her arm through a wall. “Dammit!” Ripping the corset off, she tossed it over the screen. “I’m not wearing that frickn thing ever again.”
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After a short time, Sam walked out the front door and joined Ayasse under the streetlight. She had chosen a basic dress, with the apron, maid cap, and shawl.
“It looks a little tight,” Ayasse remarked. “Are you sure you can move in that?”
“I should be fine, as long as I don’t get into a fight,” she said. “Let’s go. I stole some money from the hospital, but a cab is expensive. It’s going to take us some time to get to my old house.”
Ayasse fell in beside Sam and matched her pace. “Why are we going there?” he asked, yawning.
“I was ten when my parents died. Like most of the families in the area, we had servants. I hope I can find one of them still around there to help me locate Timothy, my father’s old partner,” Sam said. “It’s not the best choice, but it’s the only one I have. I remember a bit about him. I think the family name is Fitzgerald.” They walked in silence. It was still several hours until sunrise, but already some of the early morning people were out. She saw a bakery starting up its oven and a few of the knocker-uppers moving to their client’s houses. Steam clocks were still too expensive for most of the people and the knocker uppers worked to keep the prices high. Their entire business relied on waking people up. There were a few other maids on the street, so Sam didn’t feel alone. She was still the tallest woman, though.
Ayasse started hacking. He bent forward, sticking his head into his elbow to keep the noise down.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, putting her hand on his back.
“What’s with that foul air?” he asked, sniffing the wind. “It tastes like poison.” He pulled his mask back over his face and placed a hand on his chest.
Sam sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. “Those are the factories. They burn coal and coke to power the steamers. They’ve closed down for the night, but the smell lingers.” She hated those things. The government passed laws to reduce pollution, limit the number of children who could work in them and force the kids to go to school, but that didn’t help the poorest. Many of the families still had their children come with them to those disgusting places. It was the only way they could make enough money to survive.
Ayasse continued to cough. The next Tesla light they passed under Sam took a look at his face. He had said he was having trouble here, but his eyes looked darker than usual. He’d been here a week. Bob had said that the people he sent to Relancia couldn’t handle the environment. Maybe the same thing was happening to Ayasse.
“Let’s get a bicycle. I think there’s a store around here somewhere. We can borrow one and get to my old house quickly.” Sam said. She glanced around the area, trying to remember where the store was. It had been three years and everything had changed.
“What’s a bicycle?” Ayasse asked.
“It’s a two-wheeled machine. My father taught me how to use it when I was a child. Bob had one at his house for the servants to get around quickly and we used to use it there as well until Nadia got hurt.” Sam dismissed the memory with a wave. “Some of the newer ones are steam-powered and let you go twice a horse’s top speed. Those are dangerous though. The regular ones should be good enough,” she said, rambling again. Something about being back in Londen had relaxed her.
Sam pointed to a store with a wheel in the sign. They went around the back and Ayasse let her in again, this time, much quicker than the dress shop. She chose a tandem bike and brought it out the back door. Outside the shop, she closed her eyes and raised her finger in the air in a check pattern.
“What are you doing?”
“I hate having to steal this. I didn’t care about the hospital. That place needed to be shut down, but these stores are just trying to do business,” she said, wheeling the bike into the street. Checking left and right for policemen, Sam bundled up her dress and got on the front seat. They didn’t have the proper petticoats that fit at the dress store and her legs were exposed. If anybody saw her, she might get arrested for indecency. “When this is over, I plan on coming back and repaying these places for the stuff we took.”
Ayasse nodded his head. “I see. You’ll never make it as a thief at this rate.”
“Don’t expect to.” Sam patted the back seat. “Get on and hold on to the handles. I’ll be doing most of the work here and I don’t need you getting in the way. You can put your feet on the bar, here,” she pointed to the long bar between the two seats.
“Are you sure? Your stomach wound?” Ayasse asked.
“It’s not bothering me too much,” she said, patting her stomach. “The quack at the hospital must have been good for something. And I think your pill helped.”
Pumping her legs, Sam sped off into the darkness. Ayasse grabbed hold of her waist and squeezed. A small twinge spread from where his hands hit the wound, but she ignored it. This was the first hint of nervousness she’d felt from him. “Grab the handles. If you hold on to me, it’ll be more difficult to move. Don’t worry. It won’t hurt too much if we fall off.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. His grip got tighter.
They passed several dozen street lamps and a car sitting on the side of the street. It had the new engine and pump sitting beside it. The driver was checking the gears and tires, testing them. Before she went to Relancia, cars were a rarity. Only the very rich could afford them. Now, three years later, she could see more of them. One even took her to the hospital. She couldn’t believe how fast London was changing.
Tweeet! “Hold it right there, you two!”
The whistle blast came from behind her. Sam spun around. Two policemen were running along the street carrying clubs and shaking their fists.
“How dare you run around like that!” the second policeman shouted. “Where’d you get that bicycle?”
“Hold on! I’m going to lose them,” she yelled back to Ayasse. Sam started pumping the peddles and sped away from the two men. She knew skipping the petticoats would cause trouble. The policemen’s whistle faded into the distance. Ayasse’s grip got tighter. It was getting hard to move.
After a few minutes, Sam turned around. “I think we’ve lost them. This darkness is helping, but we’re going to have to hurry. If another policeman finds us, we might not be as lucky,” she said, slowing down. “We used to live just on the outskirts, on the opposite side of London to Bob. It should take us an hour or two to get there if we don’t run into any more trouble.”
Ayasse was silent. His hand slackened, and he gripped the handles. “I’ll trust you to get us there in one piece.”
“You should. I’m much more trustworthy than a thief.” Sam continued peddling, but she slowed down. It wouldn’t be good to be too sweaty when she arrived.
“That’s not fair,” Ayasse said. “I think I’ve proven myself quite well.”
Sam cringed. Why did she always let her mouth lead before her head? “I didn’t mean it like that.” She stopped. “You’re right. I’m sorry. That wasn’t what I meant. I don’t even think of you as a thief anymore. You’re my friend and you deserve to be treated as such.”
Ayasse was silent. Sam felt his hands slip from her waist and stopped the bike. Turning around, she checked on him. Ayasse’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be sleeping. She touched his shoulder, and he jerked up, blinking his eyes. Before they went much further, she had to find him a place to sleep.