Chapter Eight
The village of Weymouth was nowhere near a village as far as Sarah was concerned. A steady stream of traffic ambled its way along the road, lines of carriages struggling to move ahead as riders and walkers wove between them. The noise was deafening, and Sarah wondered where that pleasant port was about which Mildred had spoken. Instead of the beautiful village she had expected, what she found was a dark, dingy city with mud-filled streets and loud and boisterous citizens shouting at one another with angry words and foul language. A door swung open and two men flew out, fists flailing and pummeling as people gathered around to cheer them on.
Sarah urged Molly on, who seemed to be as terrified as she. To her right lay lines of docks, large ships held by boats bobbing in the murky water, and Sarah wondered if her hero was on one of them, waiting to disembark and come searching for her and sweep her off her feet.
Horror stories raged in her head, however, of men searching for women to kidnap and force into slavery or to take as their wives.
Much like the situation from which I escaped, she thought. It was a good thing she was of a strong continence or she would have easily fainted on the spot just thinking about it.
She had not slept well the previous night, the ground not as comfortable of a bed as she had romantically thought it would be. She stifled a yawn, which she hid behind her hand. Despite the exhaustion that plagued her, the fear mixed with a bit of excitement kept her alert.
Too afraid to stop and ask the burly and cold-eyed men where to find the Horse and Plough, Sarah instead wandered along the stretch of street that spanned the area of the docks, remembering that Mildred had mentioned the pub was located where the woman could look out upon the ships and watch the crews disembark. It was just before noon when she finally saw the sign, an image of a horse pulling a plow hanging above a dilapidated door. At least no men were stumbling out with fists flailing as they had been at the pub when she first arrived. That had to be a good sign, did it not?
A young boy sat on the stoop just outside the door, his bright red hair unkempt and dirty, as was his freckled face.
Sarah sighed as she dismounted. She had finally made it, and she felt a great sense of accomplishment. “Good day, young sir,” she said as she took the boy’s hand in a firm handshake. The boy grinned, showing a gap large enough to ride through where his two front teeth should have been. Sarah imagined no one had ever addressed him as a sir before. When she released his hand, she subconsciously wiped it on the skirt of her dress.
“Hello,” he said without standing, the only movement coming from the hand he used to shade his eyes as he looked up at her.
“Would you mind taking care of my horse while I conduct some business inside this fine establishment?”
The boy turned back to the pub and then looked back at her, a confused look on his face. “Um, yes, I can keep an eye on her,” he replied, appearing at first confused about what she was asking of him. “You can pay me when you leave.” No, he understood quite well what she was asking. He walked down a short alleyway that led to the back of the pub, Molly in tow, probably where the stables were located, or so Sarah figured.
Sarah looked skeptically at the front door. Although it was not what was anticipated, she was there, so there was no other choice than to get on with her plans. She straightened her back, raised her chin, and pushed on the door only to walk into it. She stared at the wooden obstruction and then realized that she needed to pull the door to get it to open.
With a shake of her head and a nervous chuckle, she glanced around to see if anyone noticed her mistake, and when she realized no one was laughing at her, she pulled the door open and went inside.
It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior, and when she could see, several pairs of wide eyes stared back at her, all men with friendly smiles.
“All right, Sarah,” she said to herself, “you are a common woman now. Act as such.” She made her way down the middle of the room, passing several tables of men, some stopping their conversations to watch her while others ignored her as they laughed uproariously and lifted their pint glasses and clanked them together. It was nothing like she had ever seen before, and she caught herself slowing and staring in amazement at their brash behavior.
She reached a long counter behind which stood a man of about thirty, a dirty cloth washing out an equally dirty glass and a single eyebrow raised as he eyed her.
“What can I do for you?” the man asked, his eyes roaming over her as if she were a horse being considered for purchase. Sarah wanted to tell him to behave like a gentleman, but she remembered she was a common woman and decided to simply ignore him.
“I would like to speak to Peter, if I may,” she said with a confidence she did not feel. She glanced to her side, and an older man sat on one of the stools grinning at her like a fool. Perhaps it was the effects of the alcohol causing them to do it, but it seemed that every man had his eyes locked on her every time she looked at any of them.
“Peter is it?” the bartender asked, placing his hands on the bar and leaning forward. “And who do I tell him is asking after him?”
“Tell him that Sarah is here on behalf of Mildred,” Sarah said, wishing she knew the woman’s surname. “And if I catch your eyes wandering again, I will poke them out!”
Several of the men within hearing distance roared in approval, some of them going so far as to slap a hand on the table.
“Of course, My Lady,” he said with a chuckle before walking toward a swinging door behind the bar.
As she waited, she took another moment to look around the pub. It was quite large with many tables, most of which were filled. Most shouted rather than spoke to each other, the words oftentimes curses Sarah had heard before, as well as a few she had not but made her face heat up nonetheless. Once white walls now were covered in coal dust, probably having never been washed since the place was opened. Several sconces hung from the walls and posts throughout the large open room making halos of light that did little to brighten up the place. Even the large windows on either side of the front door were covered by soot, blocking out what light could have make the room seem less dingy. It certainly needed a good cleaning, much like the men who patronized the place.
Several men were playing cards at one of the tables in a back corner.
Men and their gambling, she sniffed, the sight angering her more than it would have before the horrible incident that sent her running away.
“Yeah?”
Sarah turned to find a man with dark silver hair on his head, and eyebrows so massive, she wondered if they were one single piece. It reminded her of a caterpillar she once saw as a child, all fuzzy and furry. “Are you Peter?” she asked dubiously.
“Do I know you?” he asked with narrowed eyes as he tilted his head at her.
“Well, no, you do not know me. However, I am sure you remembered Mildred, do you not?”
The single eyebrow went up and he laughed. “I do, though it’s been some years since she’s been around here. How is the old burd?”
“She is well. As happy as ever.”
The man nodded but said nothing. After several awkward moments of silence, Peter asked, “Is there something else you wanted? If not, I have quite a bit of work to do before the pub gets busy.”
Sarah glanced around the pub. If this was not busy, she was not sure she wanted to know what it was like when it was. “May I have a word?” she asked and then took another look around. “In private if possible?”
He gave her a conflicted look and then sighed heavily. “Very well. Follow me.” He led her through the swinging door and down a short hallway to a small room that contained a simple wooden desk, two chairs, and a tiny window with smudges in the middle of the glass pieces as if someone had attempted to clean them at some point in recent history.
He offered her one of the chairs, which she took with some skepticism as to whether or not it would hold her. She was pleased when it did not collapse under her.
“Now, how may I help you?” he asked as he took the remaining chair that sat behind the desk.
“I am seeking employment,” Sarah said, giving him her best smile. The place needed brightening up and she knew her smile was exactly what it needed.
“I see,” he said with an almost bored tone to his voice to which Sarah did not take kindly. “Have you had experience working in a place like this before?”
She shook her head, her heart dropping.
“Do you have any work experience at all?”
“Well, I have helped tend my…” she started to say, then caught herself almost giving away about working her family garden. She certainly did not want the man to know she came from money. Plus, she doubted highly that he would believe that talking to Mildred as she worked was truly a form of work.
“I have a full staff,” Peter said as he stood. “I really don’t need another.”
“Oh.” Sarah’s mind churned as she attempted to think of a way to convince this man that, indeed, he needed her. It took her only a matter of seconds before an idea formed, and she said, “You see, sir, Mildred is my mother. She is the one who sent me to you.”
The caterpillar above the man’s eyes rose once again. “Is that so?”
Sarah nodded, hoping she did not look too guilty. “The truth is, my parents were killed by pirates on one of their journeys to Africa delivering food to the poor as a part of their charitable works.”
Peter sat back in his chair, more than likely in wonder at the bravery and giving hearts of her made-up parents. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she replied, attaching her best sad face, which was difficult given the excitement she felt in sharing her story. “I was quite young at the time, only eight years of age. Of course, I was devastated, as you can well imagine, left alone to wander the streets in search of food and shelter. Then one day, as I lay under a bridge, hungry and freezing with only an old cloak to keep me warm, Mildred and David came upon me and took me into their home. They clothed me and fed me and raised me as their own.”
“Pirates you say?”
Sarah shook her head in wonderment. “Pirates. The beasts were never found, but there are rumors they are still pillaging these very shores.”
Peter leaned forward. “Never seen any myself. But why do you talk like a silkstocking? Mildred sure didn’t talk all posh like you do.”
Sarah bit at her lip. She thought she had hidden her true upbringing quite well. However, the story unfolded before her without much difficulty. “The people for whom she worked took it upon themselves, knowing my plight, to educate me,” she replied.
Peter placed his head in his hands and groaned. “Why do they always end up here?” he mumbled, then a moment later looked up. “Your pay will be a shilling per week, which includes a room out back. You’ll have to share, of course. Any complaints from the like of you and you will be on your way. I suppose you have your horse in my stable?”
Sarah nodded.
“I’ll have to take that out of your pay to house it,” he said as he stood. “Come with me.”
A shilling per week? How on Earth did people manage on such small wages? At least she did not have to rent a room. Despite her reservations, Sarah was happy. Her plan was all but complete. All she had to do was wait for the ship on which her husband-to-be arrived, which she predicted would be sooner rather than later. She had done her part to make it happen, now it was his turn.
They passed a kitchen in the back of the pub where a heavyset woman yelled at two young girls. When she saw Peter and Sarah, she lowered the rolling pin that she had brought over her head and gave them an innocent smile.
“‘Ow ya doin’ there, Pete? Ya got ya a live one, I see.” She laughed, though Sarah could not see the humor in the woman’s words. Well, it did not matter. Sarah would have little to do with the woman, or so she hoped.
Peter grunted something unintelligible and the woman did not seem to mind. Perhaps she was accustomed to men and the despicable habits they demonstrated here.
The stables were to her left, and Sarah was pleased to see Molly busily drinking from a water trough and looking quite content. Across the courtyard stood two small buildings, both of which looked tidier than the entire pub. She followed Peter through the door of one of the buildings into a single room which contained four beds, a bureau with a chipped bowl and pitcher with faded flowers, and a single candle in a simple holder.
“This will be your room,” Peter explained. “You will share it with Ingrid and Margaret. You will start at three in the afternoon every day and work until we close. Understood?”
She nodded. “When do you close?” she asked.
He stopped at the door and turned back toward her. “Whenever the last drunk stumbles out at night is when we close. It’s almost two. I’ll see you in one hour’s time. I assume you can start right away.”
Although she had hoped to rest after her long excursion, it was imperative she maintain this position. This being so, she nodded her agreement.
A moment later the door closed and Sarah looked back over the room. It was not what she had envisioned, but it was better than sleeping on the ground outside as she had done the last two nights. She walked over to one of the beds and placed her bag upon it. Thoughts of her parents suddenly came to her and for the first time in her life she felt homesick. An image of James came to her mind, and try as she might, she could not dispel it. However, he was a monster, much as she had told Alice yesterday morning, even if her description was a tad bit exaggerated. It certainly reflected the ugliness of the man inside
“Hello there,” a female voice said.
Sarah jumped to her feet and quickly turned around, her heart in her throat. A woman, perhaps thirty years of age with black hair peeking out from under a white mob cap, entered the room and closed the door behind her. “I’m Ingrid. You must be Sarah.”
“I am,” Sarah said with a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Peter tells me you are a bit…eh…new to this line of work?”
Sarah nodded. “I am but I am a quick learner.”
“Good, because you will need to be,” Ingrid said, as she went over to a bed and sat upon it. “Now, let me tell you what you will be expected to do…”
Sarah went over to the bed across from her and sat down, excited to learn what her life would be like for the coming time.