Historical
An Untamed Heart
By Lori
Aug 11, 2007, 21:07

            “Just a few more minutes, Mum.” He tugged his blanket to his chin and his mind shifted back toward the darkness of slumber.

        “Leo, you must wake now, hurry. There is no time to lose.”

        His mother grasped his shoulders and jerked him upright. Instantly the fog of sleep cleared. Outside the tent, a fire burned brightly creating an eerie orange glow inside his temporary dwelling. He yawned and the sweet, suffocating scent of earth and humidity choked the air from his lungs. Sucking in deep breaths, he turned on his little cot to see his mother, her golden locks hanging in disarray down her back as she frantically shuffled through his trunk.

        Fear skittered along his spine like the centipede currently making its way across a tent wall. His mother never tossed clothing, but made him fold his pants and shirts neatly. “Mum, what’s hap-”

        “Enough,” his father’s voice growled from outside the tent. Leo stiffened and his attention jumped to the shadows that loomed large against the tent wall.

        A raucous burst of laughter resounded through the night air, interrupting the chirp of insects and soft cry of monkeys. His mother stilled; her eyes wide.

        “Mum,” he whispered. Tossing aside the blanket, he set his feet on the damp canvas floor.

        He started to stand when his father spoke again. “I do not know what this is about, or who has sent you, but you have overstepped your bounds.” 

        “Darling,” his mother whispered, drawing his attention and tossing his trousers to him. “Dress, hurry, we have no time to spare.”

        Leo tugged his pants into place. Biting his lower lip to keep from questioning her, he pulled his shirt over his head.

        “But Mum,” he whispered, shaking his boots to make sure nothing had slipped inside for a quick nap. “What is it? What’s happening?”

        He tugged his shoes into place and stood. In a soft swoosh of skirts, his mother rushed to him. She cupped the sides of his face, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You must be brave, my love. The men have turned and we need help.”

        “Bloody buffoon,” a voice growled from outside. The speaker’s shadow was short and bulky against the tent. Leo’s eyes narrowed and his hands fisted at his sides. He knew that man only too well, a guide they’d hired who deemed it great sport to pick on him. “Do you honestly think you are in control?” He reached forward and pushed Leo’s father. His father stumbled back and his mother gasped, her fingers digging into Leo’s upper arms.

        “Now see here, what the hell is going on?” A familiar voice called out. Archie had arrived, his shadow tall and thin next to his father’s. Leo felt a moment of relief. His father’s best friend would help.

        “Nothing, as long as you tell us where it is,” another man replied, his shadow short and thin. Extending from the man’s hand was the unmistakable shape of a dagger. Leo slid his mother a glance to see if she noticed.

        “Leo, go,” she said, her voice hard and low.

        “But Mum.”

        She looked directly into his eyes. “Listen, you slip out the back and go to the village. It’s not far, you remember the path, don’t you, love?”

        “What ever are you speaking of?” his father asked, drawing his attention once more. “We have nothing, I swear it.”

        “You might not have it here, but I’m betting you know where it’s located. I want that map.”

        “Leo,” his mother insisted and gave him a quick shake.

        He tore his gaze from the shadows. “I…I need to help Father.” 

        She shook her head. “No. My son, there are too many. Please, you must get help.”

        Before he could respond, she took his hand and slipped something round and cool into his palm. “You show them this. Tell them who your father is and they will come help. Promise them anything, Leo. Anything.”

        Leo swallowed hard and nodded. When he opened his fist, he saw his father’s silver ring with the flower shaped emerald on top. On either side were open-mouthed lions, but it was that emerald that caught his attention…that seemed to glow, and Leo found himself staring intently into the vivid green….falling…falling.

        “How could you?” his father asked in a hushed tone.

        Leo jerked his gaze from the ring to see a shadowed form he hadn’t noticed before. “Wealth and power, Cody,” a familiar voice replied. Where had he heard that voice?

        “Father,” another person said in a younger, whinier tone. “You said it wouldn’t take long.”

        “Shut your mouth, boy. We leave when we get the map.” 

        “It belongs to the tribe. Do you have any idea what that power could do in the wrong hands? Will, I’ll give you money, you don’t have to do this,” his father insisted.

        Leo’s mother gasped. “Will?” she whispered. “No.”

        “Mum, who is-”

“Oh isn’t that lovely,” Will replied. “You have so much money you can just toss it aside. You can take your money and go to hell, Cody. You know why I want that map.”

        The group fell silent and Leo waited, his breath held.

        Finally, his father released a harsh laugh, that didn’t quite ring true. “Dear Lord, the rumors. You’ve heard the rumors and traveled all the way here because of them.”

        “Not rumors, and you know it,” Will snapped, stepping closer to his father.

“You’re insane,” his father replied.

“You don’t deserve your power; you don’t deserve to be the keeper of the map. I should say I’m sorry, but truth is, I’m not.” The man swung his arm forward.

        Archie cried out and jumped in front of Leo’s father.

        “Archie,” his father yelled as the men came together in a blob of dark shadows. Their shouts rang through the forest and mixed with the high-pitched screams of monkeys. 

        “Go, Leo, now, hurry,” his mother cried out, pushing him toward the back flap of the tent.

        He clutched her hand. “Come with me, Mum. Father would want you to.”

        She tugged away from him. “No.” She went to the trunk and pulled out a pistol. “I must stay here to help. You’ll be all right, Leo.” She set the pistol on the cot and cupped the side of his face. 

        “Mum,” he whispered. In her shimmering crystal-blue eyes he saw her goodbye. His heart ripped open and he resisted the urge to beg her to come with, knowing she’d never leave his father.

        “Go now, my dear boy, go.” She pressed her lips to his forehead and pushed him from the tent. The flap swung back into place and obscured his mother from view. 

“Eleanor,” his father called out. “Go now!”

A sudden blast ripped through the night and Leo’s heart jumped. “A gunshot? Mum?” he whispered. There are too many. Please, you must get help. His mother’s voice rang though his mind.

Taking in a deep breath he turned and bolted into the pitch black jungle. Monster-sized vegetation slapped against his shoulders as he rushed down the path. A high-pitched scream rent the air and he stilled, his breath ragged and his heart slamming against his chest. A monkey? When no other sound came, he started forward again. The jungle sounds faded as he centered on his own harsh breathing. Finally, the foliage thinned. Leo slowed and sucked in great gulps of air. The acidic scent of burnt wood reached his nostrils and his steps faltered.

        In the moonlight, he could see a thin trail of black smoke curl up into the night sky. He stumbled into the clearing and gasped.

        Every hut…every building they’d visited only yesterday were a charred, skeletal remains. There was no movement, no living person that he could see. He clutched at a tree, growing lightheaded with despair. 

        “Hullo there?” he called out, his voice trembling. “Please, is anyone here?” He pushed away and raced to the middle of the village. Slowly, he turned, his attention jumping from shadow to shadow.

        “No,” he whispered, shaking his head.

A sudden trickle of fear made the fine hairs on his body stand on end. He spun around to see a small shadow coming at him. With all his strength he threw himself at the boy. They tumbled to the ground, a ball of thrashing arms and legs. 

“Stop,” Leo cried out. “Stop, I’m here to help. Where is your family? Where are your people?”

The boy stilled, his eyes wide and white in the murky light. “Dead,” he breathed. “All.”

Leo stumbled to his feet, his heart racing in his chest. “No. How?”

“Men, come, kill,” the boy whispered.

Leo turned back toward the trail and sucked in a breath. Dark forms on the ground slowly shifted into bodies, haphazardly tossed about the clearing. Bile rose in his throat.

All…Dead.

Oh God, his family!

        “Mother.” He raced toward the trail, retracing his footsteps. “Father,” he cried out, diving into the thick vegetation. His feet thundered against the damp earth as tears streamed down his face. No other sound was heard in the jungle, as if every animal, every insect watched…waited for him. His body trembled, his muscles ached but he pushed on. Finally, the vegetation gave way and he broke into the clearing, his tent only feet ahead. He stilled and leaned over to catch his breath. No noise…no voices. Had the men left?

        “Father?” He pushed forward and rushed around the tent. His mother’s body lay across the ground, dark liquid pooled around her. Not two feet from her form, his father’s body lay, his arm stretched out as if trying to reach his wife. Leo’s legs gave out and he fell to his knees. 

        “No!” he cried. “No, no, no.”

Hot tears slipped down his face and his body wracked with sobs. He couldn’t seem to breathe, couldn’t think, he only wanted to die with his parents. He crawled to his mother, her face pale, her eyes wide and unblinking. Trees spun around him, his body wavering and he laid his head on his mother’s chest. A campfire still burned, the tents were still up, everything seemed so normal.

He closed his eyes, wishing to sink into the ground.

“They still live, they still live,” he repeated over and over. He felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked upright.

        “Archie,” he whispered.

        The boy from the village stood there. Leo barely paid the lad heed as he searched the area. Where was his father’s friend? He’d know what to do, he’d bring his parents back. He scrambled to his feet, his wide gaze searching the area, but the place was empty.

“Archie,” he cried out.

        Where had Archie gone? Alone…he was completely alone. He slipped to his knees once more as sobs ripped from his throat. “I promise father, I promise I will find the men who did this to you.”

        “Now, you the keeper,” the boy stated.

        Leo looked at the lad and shook his head. The keeper. The map. The cause of all his problems. “No,” he snapped. “I am no keeper. I do not know of any map.”

        The boy’s eyes widened and he nodded rapidly, as if panicked. “Yes, you must know. It can not be lost.”

        Confused, Leo shook his head.

A sudden roar tore through the jungle. Leo’s heart stilled. The village boy clamped onto his arm and pulled him to his feet.

        He jerked away from the lad, his anger rushing through him like a river of lava. “Where are you?” he demanded of the animal, eager to take on something he could fight. “Show yourself.”

        A movement caught his attention. Slowly, he turned his head to stare into the emerald eyes of a black panther.

                             *****

England, 1862

“Miss Ella, is this hell?”

Ella coughed to cover her gasp of surprise. “Excuse me?” She glanced down at the red-haired moppet who trudged along beside her.

Tabitha frowned and kicked at the tattered hem of her oversized blue gown. “Well, Mother Sarah said hell is so hot you can barely breathe.”

Abby elbowed her way to the front, ignoring the frowns of the other girls. “This isn’t hell. In Hell you’re made to shovel coal all day, and there are demons to poke you in the…”

“Abby,” Ella reprimanded, biting back her grin.

“Sorry, Miss Ella,” the girl mumbled and slowed her steps to walk with the back of the group. 

Ella sighed. Was this hell? Some days she couldn’t blame the children for thinking so. “Come along girls.” She clapped her hands to hurry her wards.

They grumbled a litany of indecipherable words. “Now, exercise is good for the body and soul,” Ella said.  

“Not if it kills you first,” Sally muttered.

Ella ignored the girl’s comment and spun around, walking backward to count heads. Ten. Perfect, she’d lost no one this time while focused on that hare. She turned and continued forward. Above, hardwood trees provided shelter from the relentless sun, but did little to ease the intense heat.

The trees broke away and a low rock wall came into view. The sweet, heady scent of lavender wafted over the partition, almost overwhelming on the sweltering breeze. Even the birds refused to sing. She slipped a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at the moisture that trailed down her neck. They marched up the path to the stone house. Wildflowers wilted in the afternoon sun, much like the girls after a day of Mother Sarah’s sermons.

        “Children.” Ella hurried after her charges. They glanced back at her with damp tendrils clinging to the sides of their flushed faces. “It might be best if we do not tell Mother Sarah we went wading in the creek.”

        The children nodded, their wide eyes solemn.

        “Can we tell her about saving the bunny?” Jessica asked.

        “Uh, well, let’s just omit everything, unless she asks.” 

        “But.” Jane’s brows drew together. “Isn’t lying a sin?”

        “It’s not lying if you just don’t tell what happened,” Sally sighed.

        Ella cringed over that statement. Really, what had she taught the children? Surely God was frowning down on her in frustration.

The back door squeaked open and a round head surrounded by frizzy brown hair peeked outside. “Ella, ‘urry. Mother Sarah is asking after you. Oh, love, what ‘ave you done to your dress?” Cammie stepped out onto the back stoop, her hands on her hips, her thin lips pressed together as she shook her head.

        “Come children,” Ella called out, standing aside to allow the line of young girls to file through the open door.

        Christine, the youngest and last in line, stilled next to Cammie. “Don’t be angry with Miss Ella. We had to stop and help the poor bunny.”

        Cammie rolled her eyes. “Not again. Another ‘elpless creature to save. When, Ella, are you going to worry about saving yourself? Oh Ella, look at your ‘air!” Cammie reached up and raked Ella’s curly brown locks back with a frayed green ribbon. “You know how Mother Sarah is about appearances.”

        “Cleanliness is next to godliness,” the line of girls repeated. Cammie glared at the giggling procession. Ella couldn’t help but laugh.

        “Go along to dinner now ladies. I’ll be upstairs to tuck you in,” Ella said, shooing them from the kitchen.

        Christine tugged at Ella’s skirt. “And tell us a story, Miss Ella?”

        Ella tweaked the child’s rosy cheek. “Of course. We can’t go to bed without a story. Now run along.”  The children marched up the steps and out of sight.

        “Putting stories of far off places in their wee ‘eads,” Cammie muttered, peeling a potato. “Nothing good will come of it. You know as well as I most will never leave the area.” 

        Ella ignored the woman’s remark. She went to the sink and pumped the water, washing the dirt from her hands. “Cammie, where’s Fran?”

        Cammie shook her head as she went to the stove and stirred a steaming pot of stew. “Upstairs. ‘ad a spell again, she did.”

        Ella dried her hands on a towel, swallowing over the lump that lodged in her throat. “I thought…I thought maybe she was getting better.”

        Cammie merely shook her head.

        “She would improve if she didn’t have to work so hard.”

        Cammie pointed her spoon at Ella. “Now, Fran’s a servant, just like her mother before her. It’s her lot in life. Tisn’t any use in wishing for something else.”

        “I just…” Ella’s gaze slid to the door. Dare she admit the words? “I just wish they would be easier on her.”

        “’ush now, before someone ‘ears you. The sister’s ‘ave done more for her than is expected, as they’ve done more for you. Now, ‘urry up there, before they ‘ave your ‘ide.”

        Ella nodded and slipped into the hall. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she made her way up the stairs to Mother Superior’s room and study. She stopped in front of the door to smooth her skirt. Muffled voices caught her attention.

        Before she lost her nerve, she knocked. The women fell silent.

        “Enter,” Mother Sarah demanded.

        Ella pushed the door wide. She kept her head bowed and gave a quick curtsy to the two women.

        “Ella,” Mother Sarah snapped. A thin woman, she was dwarfed by her black habit, the color making her appear pale and sickly. “Where have you been? Your appearance is shameful.”

        “I do apologize Mother, but there was this hare-”

        “Ella, Ella,” the Mother said, shaking her head. “No more of your stories. You must remember that you represent the orphanage.” She waved a wrinkled hand through the air. “Never mind, it’s all but insignificant now.”

         Ella frowned. What did the Mother mean by that remark? Her questioning gaze jumped to Sister Barbara. The nun blushed and focused her attention on the floor. Oh my, this can’t be good. Ella’s eyes widened. The church.

        “I can explain Mother,” she stumbled over the words. “You see, I dropped my shilling for the collection box and I wanted to put in a special prayer for Fran and I thought…well…perhaps the prayer might reach God better if I offered my only coin.” The mother’s frown deepened. “And I did try and talk Jane into slipping under the pew but she refused. Silly child thought demons resided under the benches waiting for lost souls. You really should speak to her about that….” She furrowed her brows. “Where was I? Ah, yes, so my coin rolled under the pew and since Jane wouldn’t go after it and everyone was praying with their eyes nicely shut, I figured I could easily slip under and snatch the coin before anyone was the wiser. I didn’t realize there was a nail sticking out or that it would pull up my skirts and leave my undergarments showing for all…” she trailed off as her gaze landed on Sister Barbara who was frantically shaking her head.

        “Well, that’s all there and done now,” she said in a weak voice. Was Mother’s eye twitching?

        “Sit,” Mother growled.

        Ella swallowed and collapsed hard onto a wooden chair.

        “I have been more disappointed with you Ella, than any of our other wards.” Ella tried not to cringe at the words, but she feared she failed. “I have tried, Lord knows I have tried, but you refuse to obey-”

        “Really, Mother,” Sister Barbara interrupted. “She only tries to help. Her intention is never evil.”

        “Silence,” Mother shouted and Sister Barbara and Ella jumped. “You Ella, are not worth your upkeep.”

        “But Mother Sarah, I teach, I help in the kitchens-”

        “And what kind of children will you produce? Ladies who forgo convention and wallow in the mud?”

        Ella flushed and focused on her lap. Really, she made it seem as if she were a burden.   

         “Ella,” Mother paused and Ella waited, her breath held. “You are leaving the orphanage.”

        Her body weaved as the blood rushed from her head. “Is it…is it because of what I can do?”

        “Hush,” Mother hissed, her gaze jumping to the closed door and she crossed herself. “I told you never to speak of it.”

        Sister Barbara continued to stare at her lap, too ashamed of her, or too frightened of Mother Superior, Ella wasn’t sure.

Ella’s stomach churned as she focused on Mother. “But, where will I go?”

        “You won’t be left penniless,” the Mother replied, her gaze on her desk. “There is someone in need of a governess.”

        Ella blinked, sure she had misheard. “A…a governess?” Her heart raced. She would leave the orphanage?

        “Yes. Apparently you met the man one day in town.”

        Ella frowned, shaking her head.

        “The day you showed the congregation your undergarments,” Mother snapped.

        Ella’s brows furrowed. She had rushed from the church horrified and humiliated. Outside she ran into a fine, older gentleman who had stopped to have his carriage wheel fixed. What was his name? A kindly gent who reminded her of her grandfather…

        “You will leave today.”

        Ella jumped to her feet. “What? Today, but…but…”

        “You will go upstairs and pack your things. Say good-bye to the children. The carriage will soon arrive.

        “But…take me where? Where does he live? How many children does he have?” She shook her head, as if that would clear her mind. Everything was moving much too fast.

        “He has one grandson and lives in the south of England, near the sea.”

        Ella’s eyes widened. “The sea?” The ocean, no, it was too good to be true.

        Look at this shell Ella. Her uncle’s face flashed to mind, tan and handsome. You should see the shells in Africa and Asia, some as big as your head.

        Will you take me there some day, Uncle? Her uncle turned to her and grinned, showing off deep dimples.

        Of course I will, Ella. When you are near the ocean, you can go anywhere, see anything.

        “Sister Barbara will help you pack. That is all.”

        “But…but I can’t leave the children…I can’t leave Fran.”

        Mother Sarah leaned forward. “I do not believe you understand. You have no say in the matter. You will leave today.”

        Trembling, Ella stood. That was all? Was there to be no farewell? No words of encouragement or admonition?

        “Come, Ella,” Sister Barbara whispered, heading toward the door. Slowly, Ella turned, waiting for the woman to call her back.

        “Ella,” Mother Sarah called out.  

        She spun around. “Yes Mother?”

        “Close the door, please.”

        “Of course.” Before the woman could see the tears that slipped down her cheeks, she pulled the door shut.

        “Ella?” Sister Barbara whispered. Ella turned and stepped into the woman’s arms. “I’m so sorry dear, I did try to try to change her mind.”

        “It’s all right, really, Sister Barbara. I’ll be fine.”

        The Sister slipped her arm through Ella’s and led her up the stairs. “Of course you will. You’re a strong woman, Ella and you can do whatever it is you put your mind to.”

        Ella took comfort in the familiar words and gave the Sister a genuine smile.

        “Oh Ella, you don’t belong here. You know that, don’t you?”

        Ella took her lower lip between her teeth. But if she didn’t belong here, where did she belong?

“Now, I suppose you’d like some time alone to digest this newest event. Go start packing. I’ll let the younger girls know.”

        Ella nodded and watched Sister Barbara leave. She brushed her wet cheeks dry and pushed open her bedchamber door. 

        “Is it true?” Sally jumped from her bed. “Are you leaving?”

        Ella stopped in surprise. “Dear Lord, how do you know? I only just found out.”

        “That new scullery maid, Kimmy, admitted as much,” Missy explained, her eyes wide and shimmering.

“Lucky you!” Sally cried.

        “Don’t pout Sally, it isn’t at all attractive,” Missy declared. “Oh Ella, I’m so happy for you but I will miss you terribly.”

        She hugged the girl. “I’ll miss you too.”

        “What ever is he like?” Missy asked, stepping back.

        “Don’t know, really. Kind enough, I suppose.”

        “Oh Ella!” Sally rushed to her side. “What if he’s a handsome gent who swoops you off your feet?”

        Ella laughed. “Darling, I’ve already met the man and he’s three times my age.”

        “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Perhaps he has a son then?”

        “Well, I am teaching his grandson, so perhaps.” Ella gave the girl that much. After all, she didn’t want to leave the hopelessly romantic child completely bereft.     

        “If he does have a son,” Missy interjected. “He’d probably be twice Ella’s age.”

        “Gads,” Sally cringed. “Well, my mother, God rest her soul, always said age doesn’t matter as long as he has money.”

        “Sally, really, you are quite tedious,” Missy snapped and Ella laughed once more. She’d truly miss these two. Who would keep her up all night chatting about silly, insignificant things?

        “Do you need help, Ella?” Missy asked, breaking into her thoughts.

        Ella shook her head. “No. You know I haven’t much.” She knelt by her small trunk and lifted the lid. Inside was everything she owned. Three dresses, an extra pair of boots, a bible and the journal. She pulled the worn journal out from beneath her clothing and smoothed her hand over the leather cover. Swallowing hard, she flipped open the pages.

        “What’s that?” Sally asked, flopping down on Ella’s bed. “I’ve never seen writing like that before.”

        “Indian, I believe.”

        “All the way from India? Where’d you get it?”

        “My uncle.”

        “What does it say?” Missy asked sitting next to Sally.

        Ella slid her finger over the faded writing. “I don’t know. But someday I’ll find out.”

        “Ella,” Sister Barbara called from the doorway. “Best come say good bye to Fran. The carriage will be here soon.” 

Say good bye to Fran. Fresh tears sprung to her eyes. How could she say goodbye to Fran? Sally and Missy wrapped their arms around her for a tight embrace.

“Take care, Ella,” Missy whispered.

Ella nodded and went into the hall.

“All will be well.” Sister Barbara gave her a hug. “Oh Ella,” the Sister stepped back and cupped the sides of her face. “You’ll do amazing things, I know you will. Go…go out into the world and show them who you are.”

Ella nodded, too overcome to speak. She gave the woman another fierce hug and then turned to leave. Reaching the third floor, she leaned against the wall and took in deep breaths meant to calm her racing pulse. It was too much all at once. The sudden sound of coughing broke the silence. She swiped her cheeks with her sleeves and slipped into the garret.

        Fran lay huddled on a small bed in the corner of the room, her thin blanket pulled up to her chin.

        “Franny,” Ella whispered, kneeling by the bed.

        The girl’s lashes fluttered open and warm, brown eyes gazed at Ella. No one would ever guess that Fran was only two years her junior. By the frail state of her body, she looked to be more of four and ten years old.

        Fran smiled. “Hullo, wha’ are you doin’ up here, then?”

        Ella’s lower lip trembled and she dropped her gaze to the ground.

        “Wha’ happened? Did that old bat reprimand you again?”

        Ella shook her head. “Fran,” she said, taking the girl’s thin hand. “I’m leaving.”

        Fran’s eyes grew wide. “She’s kickin you out?”

        “No, Fran, no. I got a position as a governess. I…I have to leave soon.”

        “But…but that’s your dream come true, Ella.”

        “I know…but…Oh Fran,” she cried, wrapping her arms around her friend. “I don’t want to leave you.”

        “Now, don’t be a silly goose. You ‘ave to leave if we are ever going to get out of this prison.”

        Ella laughed.

        “Remember, you promised we’d live in a cottage by the sea.”

        “Fran, they are in the south of England, by the ocean.”

        “You don’t say. It’s a sign, it is,” she whispered and for the first time in days, Ella saw her friends eyes light up.

        “You think so?”

        “I know. Signs are everywhere, me grandmum used to say, you just have to look for them. It’s a sign I tell you…you’ll be at the ocean. Our dream will be half accomplished.”

        Ella reached underneath the collar of her dress and pulled out a disc on a silver chain. “I want you to keep this for me.”

Fran reached out and rubbed the thick, silver disc with the relief of a foreign God on the surface, but shook her head. “No, absolutely not. You know ‘ow I am. I’d lose the necklace and I know ‘ow important it is to you.”

“But Fran-”

“Ella, your uncle sent that to you. I won’t take it.”

Ella slipped the necklace back under her dress, the heathen piece hidden from Mother’s prying eyes. “I’ll save my money Fran, won’t spend a cent. Someday…we’ll open the millinery shop your mum always wanted you to have.”

        Fran smiled and closed her eyes. “I can see it now, Ella. I can smell the sea. Will we be able to see the ocean from our shop windows?”

        “Of course,” Ella replied, her lower lip quivering.

        “Go then, Ella. Go now, while I can still see it all.”

        “All right, Fran.” She stood and went to the door. “I’ll see you soon Fran. I will come back for you, I promise.” Before it’s too late.

        “Sisters,” Fran said.

        “Forever and ever,” Ella whispered and closed the door.