Chapter 3: Evie and Rebecca. London, England, 1883.
The sun dipped towards the horizon and briefly the damp rooftops of London appeared to be glowing gold. The sky seemed to be on fire, burning brilliant red, pink and orange. All across the city people hurried home from work, crowding the streets in a mass of humanity. As the sun dipped below the horizon and day began to turn to night, Evie Clemence stood at her apartment window, wearing a small pair of round, blue tinted spectacles with a faint smile playing across her lips. Evie had work to do on this night and it was the kind of work she loved. Her hunger briefly rose up inside her, and along with it came the desire to find some little street urchin and suck the life out of him, but she had long ago learned to resist these moments of weakness, for she knew a greater prize awaited her. Evie turned from the window and changed into one of her finest outfits, a black dress with a deep red bodice, along with a pair of elbow length gloves and a Chinese silk shawl. She looked stunning and dangerous as she stepped out into the night, just as the last streaks of red were fading in the sky. Soon it would be dark.
Across London an 18 year old girl called Rebecca twisted and fidgeted as a beautiful dress was fitted onto her shapely frame. The dress was deep velvet blue, a colour which made her long red hair blaze with colour and her pretty face shine. However Rebecca was getting hot and frustrated as her fat old maid, Nana, fussed about her like a clucking hen. She felt like lashing out at something, or screaming at the stupid woman, but she kept her cool. She had fought long and hard for tonight's brief moment of freedom and Nana could take it away from her with just one word to Rebecca's father. The old man wanted to keep his daughter locked away forever, or at least until some nobleman asked for her hand, but Rebecca knew she would go mad if she had to spend another evening reading in her room waiting for some rich, inbred aristocrat to imprison her in his country mansion. She had pleaded with 'Daddy' for just one night of freedom for weeks until he finally gave in and bought her tickets to the opera. It was not much, especially considering she was not allowed to talk to anybody and the only person who could go with her was Nana as a chaperone, but it was a start.
'No friends' her father had said, 'they will only lead you into trouble'. No friends, indeed! Rebecca had no knowledge of what friends were, unless you count those imbecilic, silly little girls from the awful tea parties she was forced to go to, where everyone sat around and talked about kittens and rainbows and handsome men who would sweep them off their feet and marry them. Idiots, Rebecca thought, small minded fools who existed for no reason other than to have babies and drink tea. No friends! How could a girl make friends when she spent her days sitting in a house, with no one but a stupid, fat maid who bothered her every five minutes? But Rebecca said nothing of this out loud, she just stood and allowed herself to be dressed and prettified, soon she would be outside her prison and the brief taste of freedom would be so sweet.
After what seemed like an age Rebecca was ready to go. Nana led her down the stairs, being careful not to get her dress caught anywhere, while her father waited at the bottom, his face like a stone. "I was hoping you would be out before nightfall," her father said as she reached the bottom step, "I am not sure about you going out in the dark."
He spoke in a false upper class accent, which still occasionally showed traces of the gruff Yorkshire dialect that he grew up with. Rebecca remembered him before he cared about stupid things like accents and nobility, when her mother was still alive and there was still some life in his eyes.
"Nonsense father," she replied calmly, keeping the raising panic out of her voice, "there is no danger in this part of town, and I would have had to come back in the dark anyway."
He grunted, clearly still unsure.
"It will be fine sir," piped Nana, to Rebecca's surprise, "it is only a short walk across the park, and it is lit all the way by the gas lamps..."
The old man grunted again at the maid, before looking into his daughters pleading eyes and nodding grumpily. Rebecca squealed and kissed him on the cheek, prompting another dissatisfied grunt.
"Go on, git," he said jerking his thumb to the door, "Before I change my mind."
Rebecca did not need telling twice and quickly followed Nana to the door. She was pleased with the fat maid for the first time in a long time. Maybe she is not so useless after all, she thought.
They stepped out together onto the chilly streets, Rebecca in her expensive dress, and Nana in an ill-fitting garment that she clearly had not worn in a few years. It was embarrassing for Rebecca to be seen like this, but it was freedom.
"Good job it's not foggy like last night," the maid said in her Cockney accent as they set off towards the theatre, "not sure your father would've let you out if it was."
"Yes Nana," said Rebecca, feeling a new found affection for the old girl, "and thank you for speaking up like that as well, I think it helped."
"Well girl, I know you needed to get out of the house tonight," the old maid said wisely, "you ain't been yourself lately. Just sorry it has to be with little old me instead of one of your friends."
