Escape

More alone than she had ever been in her life, she sat under cover of darkness in a tall patch of grass by the side of the road; awaiting the fate that would carry her away from the only life she had ever really known. Pulling her large black cloak closer around her shoulders in an effort to seek reprieve from the icy chill closing in all around her, she hugged her legs tight, and dropped her chin to rest on her knees. The world around her was desperately silent, every living creature asleep in its bed, safe and warm, as she should be. But this was no time to think of home. No time to imagine the warm fires blazing, or her soft comfortable pillows. No time to imagine the magnificent colors of the sunrise streaming through her open drapes as the new day arose. No time to imagine the shrieks that would echo when they woke to find she was gone…

Then, at first so quietly that she had to tune her ear, she heard it; a distant rumbling of horses hooves, getting louder and louder by the second. Something in the pit of her stomach gave a lurch; she was suddenly afraid. Desperately fighting the surge of panic which was growing fiercer as the seconds ran on, she managed to pull herself out of the shadows in just enough time to catch a glimpse of the dark gray carriage pulling into view. Magnificent it was certainly not. But there was something ominous and boding about this cloaked horse drawn thing, careering down the dirt track in the dead of night; ever more quickly encroaching upon her.

With an immense effort that took almost all the strength she possessed, she pulled herself up from her hiding place, outwardly declaring herself a night rider. She held out her arm and waved it wildly, signalling for the coach to stop, and with a cloud of dust rising up from the horses hooves, it pulled up in front of her with an impressive force.

“‘Ello Love”, a skinny, toothless man all dressed in black to match the carriage grinned his savvy smile down at her. His eyes boring through her skin in a way that made her feel naked and exposed. She shivered inwardly in disgust.

“where’s a pretty young lass like you off to in the depths of a cold night such as this?” He grinned again, though not appearing particularly perturbed by the situation himself. She prayed that he would not try to stop her… expose her and send her back from whence she came.

As though he could hear her exact flow of thought at that moment, he raised an eyebrow at her, and then shrugging casually, he lazily continued “don’ worry lass, it’s no’ for me to be carin’ wha’ you’re runnin’ from…. But I’ll be needin’ t’ kno’ where you’re goin’ see, so as I can charge you the proper amount.”

It was as though a bold of lightning crashed over her head, as she suddenly realized she was still standing rooted to her position when the coach arrived, motionless and wordless. She checked herself, and then hastily stammered “uh… sorry… um… I’m travelling to London”. She silently hoped her terrified and inexperienced persona was not altogether too apparent… she didn’t want anyone to think she was helpless.

“No worries miss”, the toothless man replied, suddenly business like and apparently nonchalant, “That’ll be five shillings then”.

A little taken aback at how expensive it was to travel alone, she was suddenly aware that she had not the slightest idea what she was going to do for money when she got to London; her plan pretty much extended as far as getting there and figuring it out as she went… which, in hindsight, may not have been the most sensible approach. Nevertheless, it was as good a plan as she had at that moment, and she wasn’t about to let her courage fail her. Not now that she was so close to freedom. She had come this far, and there was just no turning back.

She breathed deeply, and stepped up; refusing to turn and look back, now she was sure she could have seen the house from that top step. Instead, she turned to face what she suddenly realized was an entire coach full of passengers. There must have been five or six of them already piled on top of each other. She thought to herself that it looked a most uncomfortable arrangement. Nervously, she seated herself, or would it be better to say squished herself into the only tiny available place, next to an elderly woman who appeared to be taking up more than her fair share of space… she thought to herself that they ought to be charging her a double fee, for she occupied double the place.

She was a short, rotund, ruddy faced woman, with wispy grey hair, spun messily at the back in what Jessica assumed was an attempt at a bun. Her cheeks were bright red and blotchy below two glassy blue eyes, which held a vacant expression; failing to even acknowledge the new arrival. She was also surrounded by bags, she noticed now. Those few possessions that travelers were permitted to have with them inside the coach that she had assumed on first impression had been dispersed in ownership between the passengers, turned out to be almost entirely belonging to the ruddy faced woman.

Unable to relax due to the circumstances under which she was traveling from home, Jessica’s eyes agitatedly flicked from one person to the next and back again. Unsure of where to look, she tried desperately to not be caught looking at any one person for too long; she didn’t want any unpleasantness of attention which she had realized all too early in life, was often the result of being a little too friendly to strangers; especially those who were so beneath her rank as those sitting around her. She shuddered to think just how disgusted her family would be to learn she would even think to lower herself to such circumstances at these.

As they crossed her mind again, she shook herself out of that coma of thought, and forced herself to once again focus on her surroundings, unfortunately realizing a moment later that she had in fact been staring across from her with a most distasteful expression on her face.

The man sitting directly opposite her could not have been more than forty, she was sure, though she got the distinct impression he had been weathered by war or life at sea, for he looked well beyond his years. It was his eyes which gave away his true age. There was a glint in them that was not yet faded by the burdens and poverty of age. What’s more, he had a child sitting on his lap. A little girl who looked about six years old, who clung to his neck every time the coach hit a bump, and Jessica swore at least once she had heard the girl call him ‘daddy’.

It was this little girl who interested her. For she could distinctly remember herself at this age, and could not help but make comparisons… it was a very long journey after all, and she had not much else to do. The little girl had very dark tangled hair, hanging free down to her shoulders. It was very thick, almost wild, but obviously lacked a woman’s care. She guessed then, that perhaps the man was a widower. He surely had that solemn expression on his face that was possibly indicative of loss, though in those eyes, she did not see a deep sadness. Neither though were they joyous, it was more of a… now, what was the word? ... A deep indifference of sorts. Yes, that’s what it was. She guessed perhaps it was not a recent occurrence. The little girl was not very pretty. Well, that is, she had nothing distinctively beautiful about her face. She looked solemn, drawn and almost sickly. She was very skinny, as was her father, and neither looked very healthy. Perhaps this was the reason for their journey… who could really say. She would dearly love to possess the talent of knowing everybody’s secret reasons for acting and appearing the way that they did, but then, that would take the fun out of guessing, knowing that the truth, in all likelihood, would never be revealed.