It was a Monday Evening. I had just delivered some eggs to Mrs Norris who needed to bake a cake for her grandsons birthday. I had walked up to my room with the lavender I had picked from large bushes in my hand. The purple plant made everything smell better. I looked out of my window and saw dark grey clouds rolling in the sky coming in our direction. I could make out the faint sound of rain. I closed all my windows quickly afraid of the damage a storm could cause to my small, cupboard like room. I could hear my brothers in the dining room fighting over the last slice of cake which I have to say was mine in the first place.
I lived in a small village in England. The village was completely rural and filled with farms and forests. Our house had been in our family for generations. My great grandfather made the house with his bare hands and an axe. The house is till stable however there is a few leaks in the roof and holes in the wall.
My room was right at the top of the house and used to be my mother's old sowing room before I was born. As the house only had three bedrooms (my parents and my two older brothers) this room was the last option. I had decorated it with my paintings of flowers and bees to brighten up the small space and all my mothers old clothes and jewellery filled my wardrobe. I had organised most of my mothers old clothes I liked in the wardrobe and the ones that did not suite me well were folded in a old suitcase underneath my bed. Most of the things I wanted to keep but would never use are under my bed in boxes or bags. When I feel sad or upset I pull a random box from under my bed and look at all the things from my childhood like baby clothes and old toys.
My mother had passed away when I was young. I was only 3 or 4 so most of my memories of her are fading away or are a bit blurry at times. I was told when I turned 10 what actually occurred that night.
My father and her were having a heated argument about rent or other things grown ups fight about. Practically the whole village could hear their yells and potts breaking as they hit the walls and floors in the kitchen. After many hours of arguing my mother decided to take a relaxing walk around the shops and stalls in the village to clear her mind. Apparently someone tried to rob her while she was talking to a shop keeper about buying some apples. The robbery did not succeedand my mum fought back. Unfortunately it did not end in her favor. I was to little to understand the words mummy's not coming home.I do remember being confused at why my brothers and father were crying after a tall man in a suit left our house.
After that I never really had a mother figure in my life. I learned how to dress properly and how to speak to people lady-like by myself.I did the same work as my brother and the same chores. I was a firm believer men and women should be treated the same and I did not care how odd it sounded to the people in the village. I could do practically everything better than the boys in my village and they knew it. They would never admit it but we all know I would beat them at any activity.
After I had closed my window I had decided to use the last of my paint to paint a picture of the view from outside my window. The grey clouds and light rain made it peaceful and romantic. I learned how to paint as my mother sister (Aunt Beatrice) had spent many rainy days teaching me and to be honest the skill came quite naturally. I loved how the paint brush could move freely and design of whole different world with one stroke.
I was almost finished when a loud bang came from my door. I stood up, fixed my pale pink dress and went to my door to greet whoever had knocked. I nearly tripped over a shoe on my way to the door. My vister happened to be my father. He looked more formal that usual. He was not covered in mud or hay and his hair had been brushed. He was wearing a black suit and tie. It looked really expensive. To expensive for us to afford. What was going on?
"There's a Man downstairs here to see you sweetheart" he said.
I nodded sweetly then followed him downstairs into our living room. On the sofa sat a plump 30 year old man with ginger hair and a long twisting beard. He forehead was covered in stress lines and his eyes were closed trying to calm himself down.
"Mr Jones. I would like you to meet my daughter, Aleena" my father spoke up after I had hopped of the last step on the stairs.
I quickly fixed myself remembering to act polite and welcoming to the unexpected guest.
"She looks exactly how you described her in your letters" the man says after I shake his hand.
Father had talked about me to this stuck up looking stranger? How did I not know about this!
My head had many questions swirly around and many wierd answers that could not possibly be true. I had a creative imagination.
"Well girl go get pack your things. We leave as soon as possible. I have no time for delays " Mr Jones says.
Excuse me!?!
"Can someone please explain what's happening....please" I put on the fakest possible smile and look around waiting for an answer.
"Well sweetheart. Mr Jones here has a son. A son who need a wife..." Did I hear that right? I am pretty sure my heart stopped beating as my whole body felt cold and dead. My father is cruel but he would not do this to me. I'm his only daughter. I do better on the farm than all my brothers combined. I give him an advantage."You will be going to America to meet him and be wed."
This is why I always think the worse. As the rest of the options can only be better but for the first time the worst thing has actually happened. I'm being shipped of to marry some America man whom I have not meet. I don't even know his name but he knows what I look like thanks to unknown letters. I think my father could see the dread in my eyes as he patted me on the shoulder and told me to do what Mr Jones had asked.
I ran upstairs. Holding my skirt so I did not trip over it. I felt hot tears spill from my eyes. This is not fair. I had just started my last year of school. I was going to study and become a writer. I'm sure my new husband won't allow this when I get to America. Oh what has my father done. Not only has he sent my away from my home but he is destroying my life's dreams.
I wiped my tears when I heard light footsteps coming from the stairs. The person ran into my room ,not bothering to knock. It was a tall skinny woman with dark brown hair tied into a bun.
"I'm here to help pack and dress you my lady" she spoke.
She looked around my room examing every detail. He eyes caught an off the shoulders dark green dress.
"This will do. It will bring out your eyes" she went over to the chair where the dress was hanging over it. " Okay put on your Petticoat then this dress"
"I don't have a Petticoat. It's just more useless material and it makes it harder to work on the fields" I replied.
She stared at me in shock.
"No that won't do. You will always have to wear a Petticoat, corset and so on. To please your new husband and impress the people around you."
The lady went over to my wardrobe and pushed my mother old clothes put of the way. I was about to say something but she had grabbed my mothers old Petticoat and was seeing if it would fit me.
"Perfect" she says with a smile on her face.
It took way to long to pack and get dressed. I felt hot and sweaty in this material and I could barely move properly. I felt restricted in it but I do have to say I looked stunning. It was a silky dark green material. It was off the shoulders and had lace details at the top. The Petticoat made if look more elegant than pretty.
"I will grab your bags milady, please go wait out side for the carriage"
I was told that we were taking a carriage to the station. Then a steam train to the Dock. To catch a boat to America. It was a long trip and would probably take just under a week to arrive in America which was referred to "the land of opportunitys." I don't know if I was excited or disappointed. Excited to see the land I have heard so many great things about and disappointed as I was not informed about my father's decision. Do my brothers know I am leaving? Are the going to bid me a goodbye? Will they even miss me?
I would have no one to talk to in America. No one to trust or rely on.
I walked down the stairs fiddling with my hands and making sure I look perfect. I had to be pure perfection. Not a hair out of place or my future husband would hate me. Apparently that was a bad thing but I don't understand why I need a stranger to like me.
I could see a horse and coach outside my window. My bags stacked in the back and an old man with a mustache holding the reins. Mr Jones was still here and was not happy about how long I took to get ready. Sorry this Petticoat takes ages to put on and then you had to move it around to make it look good from all angles. His gaze met mine and nodded in approval.
"Well we are slightly late on schedule but if we leave now we might just make the boat."
I smiled and moved to the door. There sat on the dining room table was my brothers. My oldest brother David was frowning at my father and Leon was crying. I guess my father had just told them the news. Leon jumped up from his seat and wrapped me in a hug. David did the same.
"Goodbye sister. Hopefully we will see each other soon" David spoke.
"I do hope so brother" I replied.
Then we left. My father never said goodbye. That thought played over and over in my mind.
The carriage trip was bumpy trip. I did fall into a light sleep but was woken up by the horses and a man yelling at 2 kids trying to cross the path.
This was going to be an unfortunate ride.
This Petticoat was really uncomfortable.
How do people walk or sit in these?
This was definitely a life I was not made for.
From farming to greeting important people was going to be a big change.
I still don't know if I am ready for it.
_____________________________________
Authors note:
Well first chapter completed. I love this book so far and it's going to be very good in the future. Please don't judge my writing skill I know I am not amazing and I'm not saying this book is perfect. I will go back and edit all chapters once this book is complete but that will definitely be in a very long time. I will start the next chapter tomorrow after school.
Happy Halloween 🎃
- Caroline <3
-2038 words