Chapter Text
There’s a thrill in a young heart, to roam the strange and the unknown, to step in lands never seen by human eyes. Under Anna’s Sunday boots, the clean and off white stones of Chelsea Road sounded like foreign lands, some south american path leading to unknown treasure. She looks off with her worn dress. The way that, even with polish and care, her shoes never actually looked black. Some people even eyed her weirdly, reminding her how out of place she is. How she’s in their world, not meant to be seen by her poor eyes.
But her steps quickened, heart beating so fast, drumming a hellish rhythm against her ribs, war drums ready for exploration and wonders, ready to fight any living, or dead, mad enough to stop her.
A sun, free of any clouds, had been scorching the ground since sunrise, enticing a whiff of the Thames’s dreadful smell nearby, burning the soft skin of her nape, blinding her light amber eyes. The white of the buildings surrounding her felt like endless mirrors she couldn’t look at, chasing away her unworthy stare from their wealth. The stares, the sun and her boot’s noises, everything was screaming at her that she shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t walk so carelessly. Even the Shilling pressed against the palm of her hand was a reminder of her condition, unforgiving and unforgettable.
May she lose it, she would lose days worth of food, an excruciating amount of her life time, crushed and vilified for a plat circle of silver the people around her wouldn’t even bother to pick up from the ground.
It still weighed so heavily for her. Against her calloused skin she could feel every single hour of work she had to do to get it.
Three shillings per week. Six days per week. Ten hours per day.
Anna didn’t want to count how many hours she felt in her palm, to guess how much food she could get for that, especially didn’t want to think about that pretty handkerchief she saw earlier in a part of the city where she was still able to look through store windows, where prices where still shown to push away the poorer Londoners. Here, those commoners didn’t exist. Men and women so wealthy they wouldn’t even look at the price before buying bread, wouldn’t even think about it before throwing away said bread because it went stale during the night.
From Chelsea road she turned to Eccleston street, and could already see from afar, Wilton Place covered by an horizon made of the tallest trees of Hyde park. Her steps felt lighter, she wanted to run, to jump and to giggle, to grab her petticoat and feel free, for at least a day in her life.
But the crushing weight in her small hand kept her on the ground.
Still, she pressed on, eyes growing rounder and rounder as the blur of green became the perfect shape of trees, as foliage became leaves and branches. She heard from everyone else how beautiful the crystal palace was, had heard the stories about it being made of real crystal and the crazy stories of people getting rich by stealing some pieces of it while it was being built. Anna also heard the stories about the bobbies at night, even more dangerous than usual if you were stupid enough to get too close.
But she had a shilling in her hand, and she’s allowed, like all the others, in broad daylight with her sunday dress.
The building appeared at her left, too tall to be hidden behind the trees, and it’s everything she had dreamed of and even more. Castles in tales were not this pretty, gemstones in stores didn’t shine this bright, even Queen Victoria’s manor wouldn’t be as tall and wide.
The Crystal Palace was a stunning monstrosity, bigger than Anna’s whole neighborhood, higher than the White Tower itself, entirely covered with panes of glass circled with cast iron. From where she stood, the building was more blinding than anything and the desire to see more of it pushed her to finally run. Crossing the street then the first lawn to finally reach the King’s private road, from where she could finally see the main entrance and the building in all its glory.
The walls were made of large panels, each one covered by an iron cast arch and containing dozens and dozens of smaller glass panels, letting her watch the blurry figures of people and structures inside the building. The main entrance was made of the same iron cast arches but free of the glass, not disrupting the building's appearance in any way. Over it was a split dome topped by a gigantic flag. The rays coming from the center and getting in any way gave her the impression of a beautiful sun, the feeling was accentuated by the beautiful sun reflecting in the glass panels between every metallic ray.
One of the men near the entry, checking every visitor’s ticket or cashing their money for one, noticed her and his stare hardened. Anna knew what she looked like, with her worn off sunday clothes, her off black boots, the way her fist was clinched and her knuckles reddened by the constant effort. She knew that her life would probably be worth less than one of the people surrounding her’s purse.
She knew and she didn’t care. She wanted to not care.
So she took a deep breath, pressed her free hand against her petticoat like she could actually get rid of the folds and approached him. She handed over her shilling, the man taking it and letting her enter.
That was it, she couldn’t step back, couldn’t choose to make a smarter decision. Paying for food or for the handkerchief, her light amber eyes started to sting, already missing the weight of all those hard worked hours.
She raised her head to face a beautiful equestrian statue, so tall and new, welcoming her in this new world of wonders. Behind the motionless rider and his steed was a fountain and then a tree. A real one, with the leaves and the bark, standing high and strong at the back of the building.
If she never saw a structure this incredible, seeing a living tree in it was definitely a picture even more magical. With all the glass panels, she could see inside as clearly as outside and the tree itself didn’t seem to suffer from it.
Anna spent her whole day here, looking at everything, listening to inventors and sellers explaining incomprehensible topics to other visitors. She was even allowed, from time to time, to ask and to touch.
This single day was enough to fill her soul for the rest of her life. She would dream for ever of those egyptian creatures, made of lion bodies and human heads, of those diamonds bigger than most of her meals, the machinery she didn’t understand the function or purpose of. Statues, tissues, ceramics, all crafted so incredibly by magicians hands, just for her to see, to touch, to wonder.
All of the empire was also here, allowing her to discover India, New Zealand or even America from the comfort of London and the sacrifice of a small shilling.
The sun was just starting to decline when she decided to leave, avoiding crossing half of London in the pitch black night. The walk home felt like nothing, her eyes unfocusing as they were still drawing the imaginary silhouette of an elephant, seeing the ghost of incredible colors. The emptiness in her belly made her feel lighter, the one against her palm could have led her to imagine she could fly, and with everything she saw that day, was sure she could one day. See the first human fly high in the sky. Maybe she even could too, opening the window of her moulded flat to jump in the sky, opening wings made of copper and leather and just laughing in the clouds to the small factory she was working in.
The way some of the men there talked about people like her, was a dream. Seeing their eyes shine about the hard work of the lower classes, throwing their lives in the big and beautiful progress. She was doing her part, sewing again and again, all day long, almost all week, for the Empire, for the beautiful things she saw.
She wanted to work hard, to see the new constructions, to see the world change. The daydreams led her to wild romances, of falling in love with a smart inventor, to help him build tomorrow’s world, to be hard working and raising his beautiful children. They would be so happy in the future, all of them, stomach full and heads heavy with knowledge.
She would contribute too, she would work and dream hard, about New Zealand, elephants and peacocks made of ceramics.
She wanted to run and giggle, to jump high in her off black shoes.
“ Anna !!”
It was his voice, why was it his voice ? What was he doing there ? She looked around and noticed she had gotten further than anticipated rather quickly, lost in her excitement. Her surroundings were rundown buildings, black of mould and coal dust, filling her lungs with the stench of the alleys.
Her pace went from joyful to pressing, ignoring his voice as he called her again. Stains are often hard to get rid of and he was the worst of them all. Uncaring and persistent.
“ Anna, wait !” She didn’t hear him get close and near startled out of her skin when he grabbed her wrist. “ I have something to show you !”
“ I don’t care.”
She tried to keep walking, attempting to free herself, but his grip became stronger, bruising her poor wrist. “ You’ll like it, I swear.”
“ I said-” She turned on her heels, amber eyes shining from the fire of anger. “ I don’t care. Let. Go. Of. me.”
His face twisted with a huge smile, he slightly tilted his head on the side playfully. “ Or what ?”
Anna filled her lungs with air and screamed, as loud as she could. Startled and with everyone in the street turning to them, he dropped her wrist and without waiting, she turned around and ran. Off black boots beating against the stone, carrying her back home where she felt safe.
“ YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO RUN AWAY ALL YOUR LIFE.”
The sound of heels against the pavement, covered by his laugh.
Her flat was on the top floor of a ruin. The wooden door letting the outside cold come in without any protection. When she locked it, she thought about the exhibition, about that man showing how most of the locks were so easy to open. Out of breath, she still felt safer here, his laugh still vibrating deep in her skull.
She would eat, sleep, dream of a kind husband that would chase the stain away, and tomorrow… Tomorrow she would work hard for the Empire and a brighter future.