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The next day began early for Adeline, as it often did. She rose before Michael and made her way back to the well, shivering in the cold temperatures of the early morning. With a wary glance at the fencing surrounding her, she stripped off her ragged jacket, then her dirty jumper, and finally her threadbare tee shirt. Her upper body erupted in gooseflesh, and she rubbed her hands against her bared arms furiously, hoping the friction would keep her warm – it never did. She dipped the clothes into the well-bucket, cringing at the temperature of the water on her hands. Trembling violently, Adeline reached into the pocket of her loose jeans and retrieved the small piece of lavender soap she kept there. She broke off the sliver in half, dropping one piece in the water before placing the other back in her pocket. She rubbed her fingers over the soap in the bucket, getting the residue – and the scent – into the water. When they were as clean as they would get, she pulled the clothes out and wrung them in her hands to remove excess water before laying them over the stone edge of the well.

She tensed, but didn’t jump, when she felt something being rested over her shoulders. Glancing down, she saw that it was the old, ragged cloth from the altar. Adeline turned to face Michael and smiled.

“You’ll freeze in just that,” he said pointedly, gesturing at the straps of her bra. It should have made her uncomfortable; if their lives were normal, it might have. As it was, this life didn’t allow for modesty.

“I don’t have a choice. Everything is filthy.”

Michael shrugged; the state of his clothing made little difference to him. That he had anything to wear at all was what was important.

“I’ll start a fire up to dry them. If you put them on wet, you’ll turn yourself into an ice lolly.”

An hour later, Michael and Adeline huddled next to the fire inside the ramshackle church, holding their hands out for warmth. It wasn’t a large fire – there wasn’t enough wood – but it was enough for them. Adeline’s shirt, jumper, and jacket had all dried for the most part, and she had put them back on. She was waiting now for her jeans to dry on the stone over the makeshift fire pit. The altar cloth was wrapped snuggly around her bare legs. Her socks had finished quickly, and she had pulled them back on and stuffed her feet back into her too-big hand-me-down boots.

“When I’m done,” she said softly into the silence, “we’ll go back into town. We have to thank the gentleman at the sandwich shop, and then we can get something for today.”

“Do you think we can – ” She gazed up at him curiously. “Never mind.”

“No, what is it, Michael?”

“I was just… Maybe we could split a slice of pizza?”

Adeline bit her lip for a moment as she thought. “We’ll stop by and talk to Nick. If he still thinks you’ll get to work Friday, then we’ll get pizza. If we get plain cheese, we can probably have a slice a piece.”

His brown eyes went wide. “Do you really think so?”

It had been a long time since either of them had eaten pizza. Adeline nodded, and Michael grinned before turning back to the fire. She watched him as he warmed his hands.

Whether Nick can give him work or not, I’m getting him that pizza. He deserves that. He should have it. Adeline averted her gaze. One way or another, he’ll eat well tonight.



Friday morning, Michael trudged into the church with a tear-streaked face. Adeline looked up in shock from her worn paperback; he had just left less than two hours ago, and she wasn’t expecting him for hours yet. When she took in his expression, she rose swiftly and crossed the room.

“What happened?” she asked lowly, reaching up to wipe away his tears.

Michael sniffed heavily and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I got there, and it looked like everything was fine, but then Nick’s boss showed up. He had to send me away or he’d get in trouble.”

Adeline kept her face empty, but her heart was pounding in her chest. They had been counting on today’s work for the day’s meals, and those to come.

“It’s okay, Michael,” she said softly, taking the boy into her arms. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. Just have a seat, okay? I’ll go out and see if I can find anything.”

He had been calm, but at her words he grabbed her arm. “Don’t go there, Lin. Don’t.”

She lifted her gaze to him and locked it with his. “I won’t Michael.”

I hate lying to him, thought Adeline later as she trudged through the cold winter streets. It was approximately one hour later, and she had spent that hour walking – other than a three-minute stint for which she had snuck onto a bus – and she found herself now in Hackney. It was sunny today, and under any other circumstance it would have brightened her mood. Instead, the day seemed darker and grimmer than those the one before as she cut across a main road and slipped down a side street to the faded brown door of a townhome. With a shaking fist she knocked on the door, just two quick raps. There was the sound of someone against the door – looking through the peephole? – before it opened. In the doorway, a man looked down on her in every sense of the word.

“Well if it isn’t little miss Adeline. Back to see us so soon?” His dull brown eyes assessed her, but she kept her focus on his shoes – genuine leather, she was sure.

“I need money.” She meant for her voice to be strong, defiant, but it came out as a choked whisper.

“Of course you do, sweetheart,” he said condescendingly, trailing his large hand down the side of her face. It took everything she had not to cringe. “But I can’t help you today.”

Adeline’s eyes snapped up to the man’s face in alarm. “Cal, I –”

“I know, I know. You need the money. You can’t wait. Well, you’ll have to.” He watched her face fall. “Tomorrow night. I’ll give you an address, and we’ll see if you can make me any money in the city.”

Her stomach clenched, but she nodded. “Tomorrow.”

She felt filthy again.