expected people to be staring at the oddity of her clothes but surprisingly hardly anyone had noticed her. Folk appeared to be here for a purpose, not just idling and passing the time. Hardly anyone was interested in Sophie. It was an environment of ritual. This part of the Victorian seaside was more than a refuge from the stresses of everyday life. It appeared to have a life of its own.
As she passed by the open door of one of the eating houses, a waft of cooking smells filled her nostrils She was hungry and needed to eat, she wondered what would happen to her next. With an air of confidence she mustered up the courage to enter the cafe.
‘I must eat before I pass out.’ Rooting deep into her pocket she pulled out a shilling which bore Queen Victoria’s head, squeezing it in her hand, she entered the eating house.
A smell of stale grease immediately hit her as soon as she walked in. The walls and the ceiling were heavily stained from the gas lamps. She was soon approached by a flustered young waitress who looked about fourteen. Her greasy rat’s tails were held back by a starched white cap. Sophie was relieved to see that her apron was clean and began to relax.
‘Come and sit here Miss at the end by the window, you can see what’s goin’ on there.’ Said the waitress with a snigger. The waitress couldn’t help but notice her mode of dress and wondered how she managed not to get ravished in the street. As she sat down she was offered a menu, it was beautifully written in copperplate, almost as good as her father’s hand.
‘Ham and eggs, buttered bread and a nice pot of tea, please Miss.’ Her friendliness made the girl blush, making her lost for words. She then scuttled away, disappearing into the kitchen.
‘Must be like a dungeon in there.’ Thought Sophie. ‘Stinks out here too and I can smell drains.’
The waitress was clearly not used to exchanging banter with her customers. Sophie decided not to tease her and sat quiet for the rest of her meal which was surprisingly good. Her enjoyment was only distrupted once by the shrilly tones of the owner shouting.
‘Maisie, come and clear this table.’
‘They have no idea. Coarse.’ Thought Sophie with a wry smile. She glanced with dismay at the grubby looking dishcloth being wielded around by the café’s owner.
Unbeknown to Sophie, she was being watched intensely. The watching woman was sitting just out of her peripheral vision. Her aged face was heavily powdered, her lipstick was bright, her clothes were tidy, except for her hat which was tired and gaudy. She was fascinated with the young diner in the unusual clothes, she couldn’t take her eyes off her billowing red curls.
‘Mmm, wonder what your game is?’ With the law as it is now, you are worth a hundred pounds of any man’s money.’ She planned to wait a moment after Sophie had left, she would then follow her to see where she went. Betsy Hale was a devious woman and she was sure that she had seen this girl before.
Amazed that her meal had only cost sixpence, Sophie took her change and left the eating house, feeling much better. She felt ready to face the world. As she left the cafe, the sights painfully reminded her that she was trapped in 1900. Sophie was scared but she tried not to show it.
Unsure of what to do next she thought that she would step down on to the beach. Unbeknown to her, Betsy Hale had followed her out of the cafe with every intention of accosting her.
‘The young ‘uns are mine here.’ She said to herself fingering the knife in her belt ‘if there’s any tupping going on with youngsters, I want me cut – this little ‘un will do me? With her brassy looking hair and walking around half naked, she’s up to no good for sure.’
Unaware that Betsy was right behind her, Sophie was shocked to be confronted by a young man. The good looking, if slightly scruffy lad took Sophie by the hand.
‘I am Jim. Do not turn around, look straight ahead and I’ll lead you out
As she passed by the open door of one of the eating houses, a waft of cooking smells filled her nostrils She was hungry and needed to eat, she wondered what would happen to her next. With an air of confidence she mustered up the courage to enter the cafe.
‘I must eat before I pass out.’ Rooting deep into her pocket she pulled out a shilling which bore Queen Victoria’s head, squeezing it in her hand, she entered the eating house.
A smell of stale grease immediately hit her as soon as she walked in. The walls and the ceiling were heavily stained from the gas lamps. She was soon approached by a flustered young waitress who looked about fourteen. Her greasy rat’s tails were held back by a starched white cap. Sophie was relieved to see that her apron was clean and began to relax.
‘Come and sit here Miss at the end by the window, you can see what’s goin’ on there.’ Said the waitress with a snigger. The waitress couldn’t help but notice her mode of dress and wondered how she managed not to get ravished in the street. As she sat down she was offered a menu, it was beautifully written in copperplate, almost as good as her father’s hand.
‘Ham and eggs, buttered bread and a nice pot of tea, please Miss.’ Her friendliness made the girl blush, making her lost for words. She then scuttled away, disappearing into the kitchen.
‘Must be like a dungeon in there.’ Thought Sophie. ‘Stinks out here too and I can smell drains.’
The waitress was clearly not used to exchanging banter with her customers. Sophie decided not to tease her and sat quiet for the rest of her meal which was surprisingly good. Her enjoyment was only distrupted once by the shrilly tones of the owner shouting.
‘Maisie, come and clear this table.’
‘They have no idea. Coarse.’ Thought Sophie with a wry smile. She glanced with dismay at the grubby looking dishcloth being wielded around by the café’s owner.
Unbeknown to Sophie, she was being watched intensely. The watching woman was sitting just out of her peripheral vision. Her aged face was heavily powdered, her lipstick was bright, her clothes were tidy, except for her hat which was tired and gaudy. She was fascinated with the young diner in the unusual clothes, she couldn’t take her eyes off her billowing red curls.
‘Mmm, wonder what your game is?’ With the law as it is now, you are worth a hundred pounds of any man’s money.’ She planned to wait a moment after Sophie had left, she would then follow her to see where she went. Betsy Hale was a devious woman and she was sure that she had seen this girl before.
Amazed that her meal had only cost sixpence, Sophie took her change and left the eating house, feeling much better. She felt ready to face the world. As she left the cafe, the sights painfully reminded her that she was trapped in 1900. Sophie was scared but she tried not to show it.
Unsure of what to do next she thought that she would step down on to the beach. Unbeknown to her, Betsy Hale had followed her out of the cafe with every intention of accosting her.
‘The young ‘uns are mine here.’ She said to herself fingering the knife in her belt ‘if there’s any tupping going on with youngsters, I want me cut – this little ‘un will do me? With her brassy looking hair and walking around half naked, she’s up to no good for sure.’
Unaware that Betsy was right behind her, Sophie was shocked to be confronted by a young man. The good looking, if slightly scruffy lad took Sophie by the hand.
‘I am Jim. Do not turn around, look straight ahead and I’ll lead you out
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