Someone is singing. I slow slightly, swinging the basket on my arm. Whoever it is has a nice voice, but I can't quite make out the words. I quickly scan the crowd, a skill I've perfected.
One man leers at me but I ignore him. Women and children bustle past me, pushing me in all directions. I catch a glimpse of Henry, the shoe boy, through the crowd. On a normal day, I'd call him over and hand him a sovereign or two, but I don't have any extra on me.
The upbeat tune of the song drifts in the air, the voice clear and melodious. Just too far away to make out any of the words.
A few women slide glares at me with my slower pace, but I feel no need to quicken it. Still being shoved by bodies with every step, I fight the urge to shudder at how pressing it feels.
Between people, I catch a glimpse of bright red. Red is an unusual color, most people around here only wear varying shades of brown.
Shoving past someone standing in the middle of the road, I catch another glimpse of the red. It's a coat. The owner of the coat has their back turned to me. Yet another glimpse reveals a brown top hat atop curly, rumpled hair.
He turns and cheerily swings his golden walking stick as he starts forward again.
It takes multiple people slamming roughly into me to realize that I've stopped dead in the street.
I mentally shake myself and start forward again. But my head turns of its own accord, following the man in the red coat. Even when he's out of sight, turned a corner, I can't keep from glancing around for the tell-tale gleam of red.
I turn onto a much less traveled street, breaking into a run when I realize I'm going to be late.
Making a few rapid turns, I pop out in front of an inn. There's a great many inns here in the city. This one just happens to be where I work.
I rub my aching side with one hand, clutching the basket tightly in the other. I've never been one for running since I always get a stabbing pain in my side when I do.
The lonely street is currently deserted, seeing as how we're in the beginnings of winter, I don't blame people for avoiding long walks.
I walk past the main inn entrance, fighting away a shiver at a gust of cold wind. It'll be dark soon.
I open the gate, slipping into the narrow courtyard that makes up the back of the inn. Mr. Roderick takes the basket from me, lifting the blanket to see if everything is there.
Mr. Roderick owns the inn, he's a stocky man who I'd say is in his 40s somewhere.
He gives me a smile and asks about the market in his deep, German accented voice.
"It was a bit crowded, Mr. Roderick," I reply.
"Ah, yes. The rush." He gives me a sharp nod and calls one of the workers over to take the basket of food.
A maid rushes over and takes the basket without a word, scampering off in the direction of the kitchens.
I mutely trail Mr. Roderick as he heads to his office.
Most people are scared of Mr. Roderick, but I'm not. Not really anyway. He seems to like me. His wife however.....
I bite back a groan, catching a glimpse of the woman in question shouting at someone who seems to have dropped something that has now broken. Thankfully, she's too consumed in shouting at the poor young boy to notice me.
When he reaches his office, a room with a large window, Mr. Roderick turns, and gives a small start to see me.
"Ember. Would you be needing something?"
I fidget a bit with my skirt. "It's pay-day, Mr. Roderick."
"Oh, of course, of course." He ushers me into his office, half shoving me into a chair.
I smile tentatively as he opens a drawer in his desk, mumbling something in German under his breath.
A little shiver runs down my skin as a draft breezes through the room. My hands are so cold I can barely feel my fingers. I fist them in my skirts but I know from experience that it's not going to help. I always have the coldest hands.
Mr. Roderick turns, holding a simple, brown drawstring pouch which he hands to me. "That was all you need, Ember?"
The clink of silver sovereigns in the pouch causes me to draw it to my chest slightly. "That is all, thank you, Mr. Roderick."
"Nothing at all, my dear." He smiles at me before lowering his eyes to the papers on his desk.
I slip silently out of his office, sliding the pouch of coins into my pocket. Taking a roundabout route, I head to the kitchen. Mr. Roderick is kind enough to let us eat at the inn, although not with the guests.
Mrs. Abigail the chef whips me up a plate of food before I have a chance to ask. She winks at my look of disbelief. "Make sure you get another shift in the kitchen, I miss my diligent helper."
I make a noncommittal response, taking my plate out to the courtyard. A perfectly timed side glance informs me that Mrs. Roderick is still nearby so I slip out the side gate and into the now dark street.
I eat my steaming food slowly, staring up at the stars visible between roofs. When I've finished, I look around and realize I've wandered into the.... shady part of town.
A black form runs past, one I recognize to be a dog.
I press myself firmly into the shadow of a doorway as one of the people I want to see the least ambles past.
Mr. Bleacher. He's not to be trusted. Ever. He runs this weird sort of inn that's also a laundry house? But, no one ever stays there, that I've seen. No one really works there. Except for Noodle. I see her from time to time, pulling the laundry cart. We've had a chat or two on occasion.
At the deep growly rasp of Mr. Bleacher's voice, I slip out of the doorway, peering around the corner.
He's talking to someone, but I can't see who.
I shake my head. Hopefully whoever he's talking to knows better than to listen to him.
I turn and start back to the inn.
~
My eyes open and I roll over onto my other side. The staff beds aren't all that comfortable, but at least Mr. Roderick gives the staff a place to sleep.
I sigh, recognizing that I have to get up and dressed in a moment. I close my eyes again, unwilling to get up just yet.
They pop open. Wait a second, I don't have to get up! It's my day off!
I throw the blanket aside and stand up, a rush of cold air replacing the warmth.
I shiver as I pull on the least ratty of my dresses. Thankfully it's also one of the thickest ones I own.
I tuck the pouch of sovereigns into my pocket and practically skip to the door. Thankfully, Mrs. Roderick is not much of a morning person, so I don't have to worry about running into her in the courtyard.
I pull the gate open and step out into the street. There's a few people walking to and fro, but otherwise there's no one around.
I slide my hand into my pocket, fingering the pouch. It's not often that I indulge myself, but today.... today I think I'm going to.
I start forward, swinging my hands a little. I think today's a chocolate day. My mouth starts watering at the thought. Maybe I'll head to the Gallery Gourmet. If there's a sale, maybe I'll buy one of the more expensive chocolates.
After an extended, cold walk, I reach the Gallery. I trail around, staring in awe at all the giant storefronts. I can't help feeling small, just like I did last time I was here.
I slowly spin, trying to take in everything, one store at a- hey wait a second.
I've seen that red coat before.
The man pulls out a suitcase and plops it on the ground in front of an empty store.
I stare at him, the only one who's noticed.
Then, he does something to his cane, making it taller and some sort of blue banner pops out of it. He steps up onto the suitcase, suddenly a few inches higher than all the people meandering through the Gallery Gourmet.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Gallery Gourmet!"
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Thank you for reading my "Wonka" fanfic19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ04nWU6jo30
I'd love to hear what you think and if you think I should continue or not.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcv8aDLNPNu
Questions are just as welcome as thoughts <3 Thank you so much for reading, have a lovely day <333
