“What does Redgate even mean?” Henry asked as she checked the locks. “You never said.”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Octavia said.
“Then why use it?”
“Because nobody is likely to guess it, is why.”
“I guess…”
Redgate was a word that Octavia knew, even if she did not know why. She had vague memories of her mother telling her the word when she was a little girl, but she could not remember what the context was or why her mother would have said such a thing.
Just one of the many memories of my mother that I wish there were more of. Her face… her smile… her laugh… all fading far too quickly so that soon I will have nothing to remember her…
Octavia was nineteen when her mother died giving birth to Henry. While her father, taken by grief, had died four years later. Before those deaths, life had been hard, but not unmanageable.Her father worked, her mother looked after her, and although they were never rich, they were certainly not destitute.
Sadly, Octavia’s mother’s death had broken her father, and he’d turned to drinking and gambling to cover his pain. By the time he passed away, what little wealth they had was a thing of the past, the debts they owed were insurmountable, and Octavia’s only option was to take her brother and run.
But run where? They did not have the money to travel. They had no options outside of London – and very few inside of London, for that matter. For this reason, the past four years had been an exercise in survival, one day at a time, never knowing what might come with the rising sun.
All I need is one chance… one opportunity to give myself and Henry the life that we deserve. As to where that chance might come from… I wish that I knew.
“You were good while I was away?” Octavia asked Henry as she crossed their tiny room. It had just a single bed, one wardrobe, and a brazier which they used to burn coals for warmth.
“I was,” Henry said proudly. “I didn’t let anyone into the room.”
“Good boy.” She sat on the bed with a deep sigh as the tension in her body slowly seeped from her bones.
“Miss. Starke knocked at one point,” he followed up. “Said someone was looking for you.”
Octavia’s eyes widened. “Who? Who did she say it was?”
He shrugged. “She said a man, but did not get his name. She told him to go away, then came to see me. But I didn’t let her inside,” he was sure to add. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
Octavia suspected that this man was made up because if it had been Marcus and his bullyboys, they would not have been sent away by someone as unthreatening as Miss Starke. Likely, it was Miss Starke’s effort to get into the room, as she had been rather persistent about the money which Octavia owed for rent.
Money that I do not have…
“Why are you back so early?” Henry demanded suddenly, narrowing his eyes at Octavia. “You said you would be late.”
Octavia grimaced with both shame and guilt. On her way home tonight, she had done much thinking about her and Henry’s future, and while a decision had been reached, she still did not know if it was a good one.
Sadly, she knew too that she had no other choice. Such were the difficult decisions one in her position was forced to make.
“Henry, there is something we need to speak of.” She patted the spot beside her on the bed.
Henry must have seen the sadness in her eyes because he dropped the façade of accusation and crossed the room until he sat beside her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Who said something is wrong?”
“You did,” he scoffed. “I can tell.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Octavia could not help but smile with pride at her younger brother. She had done her best to educate him, to teach him the ways of this world as she knew them. And while she could only do so much with what she had been given, she saw in Henry someone who was smart for his age, wickedly perceptive, and just as kind.
If only he had a chance in life… imagine what he might become.
“How old are you again?” she asked as if she had forgotten. “Fifteen? Sixteen?”
“I’m eight!” he giggled. “You’re being silly.”
