Chapter One: The Chain Link Fence

I spoke to one once. "The dirt" as my family calls them. I was only a child. But I remember the moment as if it were just yesturday.

There was always the same man right outside the dry cleaners. He never did anything. Never spoke. Never got up. He just sat there. I, on the other hand, would play by the road waiting for my mother to get her dry cleaning.

I was just playing one day but my shoe managed to come off and fall in the middle of the road. I was just about to pick it up when one of "the dirt" put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

He ran out onto the busy road and picked it up, risking being hit by vehicles that seemed to purposely drive close enough to knock him down. He quickly ran back and placed it in my small hands.

I was about to thank him, when my mother came out shrieking. She shouted at him for touching my shoe. For approaching me. I don't know what happened to him. But I do know he was dragged away by a policeman. I never saw him again.

"MARCIA ANASTASIA LORRINGTON!" My mother called me down, tearing me away from my daydream.

"Coming!" I answered.

I walked down the long wooden stair case. I could almost hear my mother's scornful voice in my ears.

MARCIA ANASTASIA LORRINGTON! What have I told you about slouching. A lady never slouches and you're no exception.

I rolled my shoulders back on instinct and continued my way down.

+++

I opened the door to the living room and was greeted by my parents and three strangers.

I looked at the three of them. Two men, one clearly older than the other, and a woman.

The woman and older man nodded towards me. They didn't look too old. Possibly in the same generation as my own parents. The younger man on the other hand looked around about the same age as me, possibly a few years older.

"Mother. Father." I politely said.

I nodded to the three strangers in acknowledgement.

"Hello Miss Lorrington. A pleasure to meet you." The older man said before kissing my hand.

"I'm Lord Robert Hastings, this is my wife Kathleen and son James." He added.

My mother then invited us all to sit down on our sofas.

We started talking almost as soon as we sat down. I say we. I mean them.

I nodded a few times to show that I was listening and involved in the conversation but after a while my head started to hurt and I don't think anyone had noticed me nodding.

To be quite frank I was bored by their conversation. I would have much preferred to stay in my room and daydream.

My mother would always say daydreaming was bad. It takes you away from reality, she famously says. But I don't see what's so wrong about that. Sometimes people need to escape reality before they can come back.

My mother doesn't often agree with my thoughts and I have learnt to keep my mouth shut. I think she thinks I have gotten out of the habit of my thoughts.

Oh, if only she could hear my thoughts now.

"...yes. Dear Marcia would be perfect."

I found myself dragged back into the conversation after hearing my name.

"What!" I found myself saying.

"Marcia." My mother said in a stern voice. I knew immediately what she would've said if we didn't have company.

MARCIA ANASTASIA LORRINGTON! I have told you many times to always keep up with the conversation. You can't seriously expect for everyone to repeat what they have just said for your own benefit.

"It's quite alright." Lord Hastings said, possibly saving me from my mother's death stare.

"After all it is rather easy to lose yourself in a conversation." He continued, laughing as if it was a joke.

My mother satisfied with Lord Hastings' response carried on with the conversation.

My father gave me a crooked smile. I grinned back at him making sure my mother wasn't looking. We always had jokes about my mother's strictness.

There were two sides to my father. A serious one just about as strict as my mother is on a daily basis and a relaxed one. It really depended on his mood and what it involved.

My father's mood could change with one simple word. Which is why I have learnt to make the most of his good moods.

"Alright then. We better get going." Lord Hastings said.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Lorrington." He said getting up from his seat. I shook his hand politely as well as Lady Hastings' hand and their son's.

I watched them drive out of our cobblestone driveway onto the road.

"I don't suppose you took sometime out of your daydreams and actually listened to the conversation." My mother said from behind me.

I sighed and turned around.

"Sorry mother."

"I should hope so. Lord Hastings may brush it off but I know plenty of upper class people who will take note of your behaviour and judge you for it." She said before walking off to her room.

My father gently patted my back.

"You know she just wants what's best for you."

"I know." I replied.

But sometimes I don't want what's best for me.

"But be honest were you listening to what we were talking about?"

"No." I replied sheepishly.

"Good." He said in a monotone voice.

That made my ears perk up.

"Why? What did they talk about? Was it important?" I questioned.

"No. No. I just thought that it would do you some good if you didn't know about the situation we're in just yet." He said calmly.

"What? What situation?"

"No, it doesn't matter Marcia." He said continuing to speak in a calm manner.

"Well you've asked me now and I'm interested. What else did you expect?" I said raising my voice slightly.

"That's it Marcia! I've told you it doesn't matter and I don't want to hear another word on the subject!" He shouted at me.

And just like that a new side had taken over my father's actions.

There was no point in arguing now, so I decided to go back to my room.

"Sorry father." I said trudging back up the stairs to my room.

+++

I heard the door open and saw one of our maids' heads pop through.

"Excuse me Miss Lorrington, but your dinner is ready."

"Alright. Tell my mother I'm coming." I said getting up from my arm chair.

The maid nodded and closed the door, quietly.

I put the book I was reading back on the shelf.

As an upper class person, I had the privilege of going to school but that didn't mean I was any better off than people who didn't have an education.

Girls weren't allowed to go into greater depth like boys were. We were only told basic facts to help us get through life.

I wasn't even meant to know how to read. But I do know how, courtesy of my father.

He felt that I should be able to know just as much as anyone else did and taught me himself.

It took a while for me to learn but soon I knew how to read and write. I found myself next looking at different books in my father's library.

Every so often I would sneak into his library and steal a book or two to read in my room.

Of course my mother doesn't agree with women reading or writing. Possibly because she never got the chance to when she was young and now envied any woman who could.

She also believed that it was these "silly books" that made me daydream.

Which was true they were part of the reason why I did. Sometimes I was able to escape reality and go to a setting of a book.

But I do believe that if she herself could read she would have a totally different view on books.

+++

We ate our food in silence as we always did.

The only noise coming from our cutlery scraping the plates.

My mother giving me the occasional glare when she saw that I had let my guard down and started to slouch while eating.

Finally my mother spoke, breaking the silence.

"We will have to start planning straight away. I want this to be the biggest wedding our town has ever seen. Kathleen told me that she will contact me and help organise it. Charles, I need you to go sort out suit fittings with Robert - "

My father purposely coughed stopping my mother from talking.

She was doing this on purpose. She was obviously following on from the conversation we had early, and having a stab at me while she was at it. It was her way of showing that she disapproved of me daydreaming.

She's done it many times before and I'm so used to it now that I just ignore it.

"Rosalind, dear, don't you think it would be better if we spoke about the matter at a different time." My father spoke in a hurried voice.

"I don't see what's so bad about talking about it now." My mother retaliated.

My father shifted his head towards me. As if my mother had completely forgot I was sitting there.

"Well the event is about her so she really should be listening anyway." My mother said idly.

"But she doesn't know - "

"And whose fault is that? Her own. If she just listened instead of daydreaming she would know." My mother said sternly before turning to me and giving me another one of her famous glares.

"If your going to speak around me about something I don't know, you can't expect me to sit here and not say anything." I burst out, pushing my chair out to make more noise than necessary and standing up.

"MARCIA ANASTASIA LORRINGTON! What have I told you about this vile behaviour. I expect more from someone of your class especially a lady!" She instinctively replied.

She then got up herself and walked towards the dining room door without properly answering my question.

But just before she had walked out the room she turned to me and said,

"And if you must know we have arranged a marriage between you and James."

I felt my heart break. Marriage? I can't possibly go to such commitment without having spoken to the man.

I also knew that once you were married you were expected to raise a family with the stranger you married.

I would be throwing my entire life away with two words.

I stormed out of the room, through the back door, and out of the house.

Once I was out of sight of the compound, I ran.

+++

I sat down by the seaside my head leaning against a chain link fence. I put my worn heels beside me.

I came here because it was deserted. None of the upper class would be seen dead here. Or at least none of the upper class except me.

I sat there for a few minutes. I couldn't go back. At least not yet.

For one, I was still angry at my parents for not asking me. Two, I had underestimated how far I could run and getting back would take some time.

So I did the one thing I could think of. Scream.

I screamed for a good few minutes until I got everything out of my system.

I then cried quietly to myself, burying my head in my knees.

"Why? Why do I have to marry some stupid bastard who I don't even know?!" I cried softly to God knows who.

I then looked at the sea. Maybe if I just...

I edged closer to it. The blue water calmed me. I went even closer.

"Ya know youse a real bitch."

I immediately turned around. To see one of "the dirt" looking straight at me through the chain link fence.

One of the people I was told to despise. One of the people I was told to never make contact with.

I suddenly went back to my senses and walked cautiously towards him.

"Excuse me."

"I said ya a real bitch. Got a problem with ya ears or somethin'?" He replied.

I was speechless never have I been so deeply disrespected in such a way, especially by these sorts of people.

I stuck my nose up, grabbed my heels and started to walk away.

"Oh that's it! Walk away and don't pretend like you just tried to kill ya self."

I looked back my cheeks starting to turn a bright red.

"It is none of your business and I would thank you not to repeat what you just saw." I said through gritted teeth.

"Ah! But it is ya see. Back home we're starving to death and 'ere ya are trying to kill ya self 'cause you have to marry some rich man. Let's be honest, if I was offered to marry a rich man and get out of the poor I sure would take it. Youse be stupid if ya didn't."

I wasn't sure how to reply to his vile yet straightforward comment.

Defeated I went back to the fence and sat down.

"Listen I don't care what you think of me - " I began to say.

"Oh. So ya one of 'em people who think they're better than people of ma colour. I get it. I get it. Youse hate me for no reason." He said carelessly.

"I don't... I just - "

"Think ya better than me. Ya all the same."

I looked to the ground. What he said was true. I did act like I was better than him.

"Listen. I'm sorry. Okay."

"It's alright. After all you just tried to kill yourself." He said bringing me back to what I just tried to do.

"'ere let me start over. Ma name's Ulysses Benson. And what's that thing youse posh people say? It's a pleasures to meets ya!"

I laughed to myself.

"Yeah. Something like that." I said, still smiling.

"So are youse gonna tell me ya name or not." Ulysses said.

"I'm Marcia Lorrington." I said.

"I like that, Mar. That's a nice name youse got there. Nice and posh." He commented.

"Yeah. I guess... " I was going to correct him and say that my name was Marcia and not "Mar" as he said it. But I stopped myself. Mar. I quite like that. Mar.

That made me think. We never had nicknames in our town. If anything we made our names longer by saying our middle names.

He was so straightforward like his head didn't have a filter. He said what was on his mind. He was an open book.

That was how I wanted to live. No sad emotions hidden behind a fake smile. I wanted to express myself however I wanted to.

Ulysses then started talking about his small village, where he lived.

"It ain't pretty like yours probably is. It ain't as clean as ya own town probably is either. And it ain't pretty rich. But that's what makes our group of people so close. Ya know?" He carried on saying.

I nodded, more engrossed in the conversation than any other. I didn't know though. I didn't know what it was like to have no money. And I didn't know what it was like to have a community so close to each other.

His life style didn't sound like the fanciest but sounded better than my life could ever get.

He told me how they would go around a massive fire once the sun had set. They would all share family stories and roast whatever food they had over the fire. My eyes opened in awe.

I was never allowed to go near fires because they were too dangerous. I was only allowed to watch them from afar.

But even then I would watch their flames dance around in the night. I would watch the embers float about in the dark sky. It was beautiful but dangerous.

Ulysses also told me about his family of two his mother, Juliette, and himself. He apparently also had a father and sister.

I did want want to know what had happened to them but I decided not to push it. When he brought up the subject he started to go awfully uncomfortable.

This was the one time in our conversation where he lost his cocky, confident attitude. But he soon brushed them off as if that part of the conversation was deleted from his mind.

+++

We talked for hours and hours. Until I realised I should get back home.

"Hey Ulysses..." I started, laying my head against the chain link fence.

"Mhm." He replied.

"I should get going now." I sheepishly.

He took his head off the other side of the fence, in surprise.

"What do you mean ya 'ave to go?" He said standing up, still in shock.

"It's getting late and my parents are probably wondering where I am. So..."

"I gets it. Ya have to get back to ya family." Ulysses said. "Will you come back again?"

"Of course." I answered getting up, myself, and brushing myself off. "But when will I know when to come?"

"Youse come whenever. I'm always 'ere. Thinking." He replied.

"See ya... er whenevers I see youse again, Miss Marcia Lorrington." He added, giving me a little bow.

"I bid you adieu." I said, curtsying.

"Right back at you blondie!" He said, cutting the facade and waving.

He then turned around, putting his hands in his pockets. He started walking away and slowly got hidden by the maple trees surrounding the chain link fence.

Oh Ulysses.

a/n: This chapter and the following few are just a draft of a historical fiction book that I was going to publish but couldn't be bothered to finish.

The original version was first started on 12/03/18.