Chapter Text
Nell prided herself, in her teen years, in never being jealous. Whether envy was a sin, it didn't matter; she saw no reason to act like anyone's life was better, or worth more, than her own.
She would roll her eyes when the other girls in the village brought up Sofia Blancheford, the magistrate's daughter - often a subject of their gossip. Sofia was their age, but she was very pretty, and her family was wealthy, and this made her victim to occasional stares and whispers when the Lord's family passed through Broadwater.
Nell didn't buy into any of it. They had money, yes - but money is meaningless when you're young, before it becomes the most important thing the world, and then, after that, it becomes meaningless once again. Sofia was pretty, yes - but perhaps in a rather somber way. The high-class lifestyle that Nell's peers yearned for didn't seem to make the young Lady happy at all. She didn't smile a lot; in fact, she smiled less and less each day, with each passing minute that she aged closer into what her parents wanted her to be.
When Lord and Lady Blancheford took their children into the Broadwater village (mixing with common folk, Nell thought, sarcastically - what a chore it must have been!), her younger brother Thomas would rush ahead boisterously, as younger brothers do. When the other little boy was there, whom Nell never heard the name of, he would tag along unenthusiastically; when he wasn't, Thomas would barely notice. He would find a couple of his well-to-do mates and they would go off no doubt stealing from streetcarts, scaring horses, and generally causing as much trouble as possible without Lord Blancheford noticing and beating some sense into him.
The village boys didn't like him. They didn't find him funny and they knew he nicked what he didn't need - but they would never pick fights with the magistrate's son, of course, on account of their parents beating some sense into them.
Sofia, on the other hand, was like a little ghost. She trailed behind, often ushered gently by her mother to keep up. She was a watcher, taking everything in, from pigeons in the rooftops to rats in the gutter; people in windows, women in aprons, men with pitchforks, children playing chase, dogs, and cats, and snails, and flies that zipped around the great heads of horses. Sofia floated through it all. She didn't stop to talk to any girls her age, but when they stopped to talk to her, she was polite and kind, never aloof.
Nell knew how much the girls would talk about her, but they were rarely cruel, because Sofia wasn't. The boys around Broadwater, like they rightfully conspired against Thomas, would sometimes speak badly of Sofia as well, however. They laughed at her from a distance, making fun of her appearance, as boys do - which was ridiculous, Nell thought, because she was beautiful, and anyone could see it.
It was on an April afternoon that thirteen-year-old Nell Trotter was curled around the branch of an apple tree, at the edge of some woods not far from the Talbot.
She imagined herself a tiger sleeping in the jungle, or an owl ready to swoop. If Roxy were here, they could both be tigers, or bears; or Roxy could be Queen of the Forest and roost at the top while Nell kept sentry for traitors coming to attack. In front of Roxy, she would sometimes claim to be too old to play pretend, but in her absence, she felt the boredom that sank in without her little sister's imagination. She watched the horizon for anything that might entertain her: a furious army, a dragon, an interesting bird. Nothing happened. The wind barely disturbed the trees. A dog in the village barked.
She looked down, scanned the field surrounding her perch, where she pinpointed a drop of ink in the golden-green. A dark head of hair wandered through the long grass, and she watched intently, framed by leaves and white blossoms; it was a girl in a long, sky-blue dress, clean and tidy. She drew toward the shade of Nell's tree like a magnet. Nell leaned around the other side of her branch to see better, and kicked a twig to the ground. The bark snapped, as did the girl's head, upwards to the source of the noise where Nell was hiding. How silly she felt - since when was she hiding?
"You scared me," the girl stated, rather than accused. They locked eyes, and with a spark of recognition, Sofia Blancheford now stood before her.
"This is my tree," replied Nell, defending nothing in particular.
"Technically it's my father's tree."
Sofia spoke properly, but her voice held no venom or patronizing tone, despite the objectively nitpicky statement; even so, Nell felt a little offended.
"Not 'til he comes up here and takes it himself."
"Can I come up?"
"No," Nell replied, for no reason.
She had never properly spoken to Sofia. They had passed each other in the village or in Tottenham, but never were inclined to interact, for the simple misunderstanding of Nell assuming herself too common to mingle with a Lady, and Sofia assuming herself too boring to catch the interest of a busy village kid. Each girl mistook the other's introversion for plain loftiness. Perhaps there was some stubborn nature, one thing they actually had in common, that stood between them - if you ignore me, I'll ignore you right back.
Anyway, in terms of the tree - Nell felt some rightful claim over it now, and felt no reason to make room for a toff, nor the daughter of one. Their shared defiance: Nell, who stayed put; Sofia, who poked the bear; she wordlessly approached the trunk, where it split into two branches at chest-height, perfect for levering oneself up.
"Go away," Nell bristled.
"What happens if I climb the tree?"
"I'll throw you right back out, miss."
"What if I climb to the top before you can catch me?"
Sofia rested her hand on a possible foothold. She seemed to revel in antagonising her, and did so with a little newfound smile, picking the bark away idly.
"You won't, I'm too fast."
Who does this rich girl think she is?, Nell thought, demanding to share my tree when there are hundreds of perfectly good -
Sofia wasted no more time in heaving herself up into the lowest branches.
"Oi!"
The chase began - shuffling out of her sentry spot with hurried caution, Nell beelined for the intruder, which was difficult because she was half a tree away - it was a wide and gnarled thing.
Despite the advantage of the element of surprise, Sofia's dress seemed to halt her a little as she tried to scoop it out the way of outstretched twigs, and Nell felt very pleased with herself for sneaking away with her comfortable pair of brown breeches that morning.
"You wait there!" she cried, tailing close behind, but it fell on deaf ears as the young lady reached higher and thinner branches.
Nell began to slow down as these thinner branches became apparent, losing the rhythm of pulling and pushing through the sturdy canopy; she was strong, and fast, but evidently not as nimble as Sofia, who perched comfortably at a vantage point above her, peering through the foliage at the view beyond. The breeze went through her long hair before it hit the leaves.
"Careful there, miss."
Sofia cocked her head down towards her.
"If you want me out, falling's the quickest way."
"Yeah, well when you crack your head open, they'll blame me, won't they?"
Sofia, shocked, sputtered a laugh at the graphic suggestion.
"Good heavens, you're prepared for the worst."
Nell shrugged.
"I can only hope, miss," she quipped, and watched the look of amusement settle itself onto the other girl's face.
The silence was short lived, because not ten seconds had passed before fate paid itself forward and Nell wobbled. She lost her grip on a loadbearing branch. It bowed and snapped back up spitefully as gravity yanked her from her spot with a yelp, heart hitting her stomach when the solid tree seemed to dematerialise underneath her.
You've gone and done it now, Nell Trotter, she thought. My big mouth is about to be the death of me. It'll be me who cracks my head open, half a second from now.
In the moments between touching objects connected to Earth, she saw Sofia up there in the tree, like some horrified angel. She had shrieked, a split second prematurely, when Nell lost her balance, probably fearing the worst.
The ground hit her, hard. She was instantly winded. Dull, vicious pain spread through her hip and shoulder; she cringed, and heaved onto her less-injured side while Sofia rushed down from the tree the way she came up, with extra caution and a frightful My God.
Nell squeezed her eyes shut, but felt the gentle thud as another pair of feet landed in the grass beside her. She was thankful it was grass. Nell gasped a breath of air and the movement stung, but brought her back to her senses a little; the late afternoon sun pierced her eyelids and she rolled onto her back, relaxing her muscles with a sigh. Sofia's presence was apparent beside her.
"Good Lord, are you alive?"
A stupid question, Nell thought, as she lay there breathing and massaging her shoulder. She cracked her eyes open to give some sort of tricky retort, but came up with nothing.
Sofia was knelt at her side as if to tend a wounded soldier; she leaned over Nell, who squinted as the sun disappeared. Wavy hair tumbled down between them. It was dark brown, almost black, almost iridescent, like the feathers of a starling. Lavender-scented. How it swarmed as it descended on her, Nell thought, filling out the sky; a murmuration that swallowed everything but a pale, gentle face. In the shade of Sofia, her eyes adjusted.
"Your hair," she articulated, bluntly, dizzily.
Sofia gave a sympathy smile. Nell suddenly and uncharacteristically felt embarrassed, by both her clumsy fall and her objectively weird response.
"Up with you, scatterbrains."
In her own time, Nell pushed her torso off the ground and automatically took the hand Sofia held out for her. She came back onto two feet with a grunt, and hastily, childishly, tugged her hand back away from the offer of help.
"Get off me."
Sofia laughed at her. Her side still ached, but she felt her body right itself, and the pain began to fade. Dust and dirt clung to her sleeves and the back of her breeches, and she swept at it irritably - Sofia reached out to pluck a clump of grass from her frizzy hair, which Nell found annoying.
"You're Eleanor Trotter."
It wasn't a question. Nell was surprised she knew her name, though of course not her most used one. She cringed at its formality, and femininity.
"Nell," she corrected, looking disinterested as possible.
"Nell. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sofia," she recited politely. She reached out again, this time for a handshake, which was obtusely ignored.
"Ain't you got a nasty little brother to babysit?"
Sofia retrieved her hand, but refused to make her thinning patience apparent.
"Thanks for your concern, Nelly, but I won't act a mother before I ever play another part."
Nell scowled, but said nothing.
"Thomas is eleven. He's old enough to look after himself. And I'm fourteen. I can go where I please."
It was clearly an argument Sofia had had before. She turned conclusively, and set off toward the edge of the field where the brook flowed, and Nell's boots began to walk in the same direction.
"Nell," she corrected, "and it's your fault I have a bruise now."
She made sure Sofia heard her, discontent to let the conversation end at the other girl's fancy.
"Why are you following me?" replied Sofia, ignoring the accusation. She didn't even turn around.
What was infuriating about Sofia was her ability to keep control over the conversation - any one of the village kids would have, at this point, started an argument. The Lady a few paces ahead of her managed to avoid any confrontation while simultaneously getting deep under Nell's skin. She shoved her hands into her pockets and pretended to be equally unbothered.
"Bored," she shrugged.
"Haven't you anything better to do?"
"My sister's busy."
"Haven't you any friends?"
The hint of hypocritical teasing in Sofia's voice frustrated her all the more. Nell certainly had friends, but to her knowledge, Sofia didn't - and yet she so confidently poked fun! The tomboy grabbed a stick from the ground and swiped at the grass leisurely.
"Plenty. You're the one who's wandering around alone,"
"You're the one who's trailing like a lonely duckling. Keep up."
Offended, Nell hurried to walk alongside Sofia, who did not slow down to accommodate. Nell was well-liked by most kids, scorned by a few adults, and not a duckling - but, truth be told, she did feel lonely that day. She often got tired of the stuffy village and all the people there; Roxy was playing with her friends, and she didn't always feel like entertaining a group, even if she was very good at tag. Sofia was someone new. She had a personality not like anyone she had met before, and Nell felt the urge to stick around and figure her out.
They crossed the field in relative silence. Nell enjoyed not feeling obligated to talk, and didn't really care if she came off as rude for it. Stripes of sun and shadow slipped over them as they crossed beneath trees; the gentle breeze stirred their canopies, and swayed the grass, sending the subsequent birds and crickets leaping into the air in its wake. They exchanged whistles and chirps, joined by the babbling of water as Nell and Sofia drew closer to the brook, content to eavesdrop on the world around them.
When they reached the water, Sofia knelt to the pebbley bank, careful not to muddy her skirts too much. She scooped aside a ruffled sleeve and dipped her hand into the shallows, watching the water flow undisturbed over her pale knuckles. Nell watched goosebumps form on her forearm.
"Are there fish in here?" Sofia asked, without looking up.
"Yeah, little ones."
She then heard the scuffing of shoes, and turned to see Nell sat on the ground wrestling hers off.
"You're not getting in, are you?"
"I'll catch you one," she half-joked.
"No, you will not."
Nell grinned to herself and rolled her breeches up above her knees. Dropping the boots in a heap in the grass, she approached the shore to dip a toe in.
"It's cold," Sofia warned.
"No, it ain't," she shrugged, with some misguided macho.
She stepped in, and hid the shiver that zapped up her spine. A few rocks wobbled as she balanced on them, finding her footing in a slightly deeper, but sturdier part of the stream, free of slippery clay and silt - her arms were raised for balance, ready to catch herself if she fell.
The current was now lapping at her calves. She added another roll to her trousers and bent down to plunge her hands in. The sun's reflection winked at her as she lifted a handful of stream water to wash her face with; it was a cold, fresh shock, and her heart began to thud. Nell noticed her lungs fill and then deflate, an invigorating buzz; she felt warmer in the dappled afternoon sun, the biting cold at her feet seeming to dissipate.
-
Sofia watched contemplatively from the shore. The trace of a rainbow was cast a short distance into the air when Nell's hands dove in, with questionable technique, after the silvery flitting shapes in the current. Lengths of curls that were once contained in her plait dipped their ends in, dampening Nell's shoulders when she stood up straight. A mischevious freckled smile was sent Sofia's way.
"Water's lovely."
After some weighing of the problems (will her parents kill her? Will she drown? Is Nell Trotter trustworthy at all?), Sofia slowly unlaced her shoes, and left them with her socks in a matching pile by Nell's. The grass was cool and soft under her feet. She came to the shore, hitching her skirt up with one hand, the other prepared to take the one outstretched to her. She stopped to observe the rushing water, then Nell's face again, and hesitated.
"I won't keep my balance in there."
"I'll hold you up."
"No, I can't trust you."
"Why not?"
"You just want payback. You'll let me go, and I'll slip and fall."
"I'm over it, I'm not a child," insisted the thirteen-year-old. She reached out again, offering a steady hand into the water.
Gingerly, Sofia took it, squeezing tight like it were a lifeline. It was rougher than hers, and wetter. She stepped in, up to her ankle, and shivered with shock.
"Liar, it's freezing!"
Nell laughed loudly, but didn't let go.
"Come on, you'll get used to it."
Sofia grumbled in response, but came to balance with two feet in the stream, still grasping Nell's fingers til they were white. She felt even less stable with one hand occupied by keeping her hems out of the water, and realised she should really have secured them before she got in.
"Closer, I need to lean on you."
Nell stepped obediently forward and offered a shoulder, which Sofia put her weight on, reluctantly releasing the iron grip on her hand. Hastily, she tied the excess of her skirt high up in a knot, so that it only came down to her knees.
The water threw up rippling webs of light on the gathered fabric, and the underside of her arms. Below and between them, sunlight sank down to the riverbed, casting similar, glowing nets for catching the little creatures that swam around their ankles. As soon as she finished, Sofia grabbed both of Nell's hands, uprighting herself. She allowed herself a soft giggle, which was returned.
"Not so bad, is it?"
Nell was rather close now, but Sofia didn't mind. She hadn't spent such a voluntarily prolonged amount of time with another girl her age before. She enjoyed Nell's humour, and her quiet kindness, and for some reason, her attitude. It wasn't often that she got to laugh.
"You still haven't caught a fish," she pointed out.
Nell gave a huff and watched them dart around below.
"They're really fast," she complained. "Do you think we'll ever find a crab?"
"No, they only live by the seaside," Sofia told her, shaking her head.
"Oh," said Nell, looking twice as disappointed. "Have you ever seen one? Rich folks go on far-off trips all the time, don't they?"
Sofia shook her head again. "I've never seen the sea. The furthest I've been is Bristol."
Nell lit up. "No way! Imagine all the boats! I've never been away from London."
She looked up through the trees, then downstream, where the sun was lowering.
"I'm leavin' here one day. When Rox's all grown up. I'm gonna travel the world, Sofia."
Sofia recognised Nell's words with a fiery familiarity: the urge to live a bigger life than the one prescribed to her. She smiled, wide and uncontrollable.
"Can I come?"
Smiling even wider, Nell nodded, and they burst into giggles again. She held Sofia tight, to keep them both from toppling over, and to keep her close as they swayed together in fits of joy. The sound of their laughter was the sound of a fragile animal, one that took the soft, pink form of a newborn friendship.
-
A distance voice cut through, calling Sofia's name. She turned in the direction it came from.
"I have to go," she told Nell, and pulled her into a brief, shy hug, before cautiously making her way out of the water.
"I'll be here tomorrow," Nell declared, an open invitation.
Letting her skirt fall loose again, Sofia grabbed her shoes, and cast a warm grin back toward her in response. She set off through the field, leaving Nell alone in the babbling stream - who watched as, just before she disappeared down the track, Sofia tripped and stumbled in the grass. She made a quick recovery, but Nell laughed loudly.
"What goes around, comes around, Miss Blancheford," she called, though Sofia was far out of earshot by then.
-
"Nelly, come an' watch," came Roxy's voice from the bottom of the stairs, that evening.
Nell padded down in sock-feet and hopped over the last step, landing with a thud that woke the dog and disturbed the bruise on her leg.
"Outside. It's outside, Nelly," the girl bubbled, pointing out to the back door where dusky light seeped in. Nell scooped her up under her arms with a roar, and she shrieked delightedly.
"That's not my name!"
Nell carried her little sister out to the courtyard, squealing and laughing, before she caught sight of the sky and her arms gave in.
They stopped, and grinned heavenward, at what must have been thousands of starlings. Swathes of the creatures came diving, twisting, swaying in great tides across the purple sky. They called as they flew by, a symphony of high trills and rattles that whipped past the sisters where they stood, stranded on land. The soft wind stirred together the crackle of their voices and the feathery beat of their wings.
Their feathers glinted, turning from black to indigo, when the sun hit the shiny parts of their speckled wings. Nell remembered the girl with the long, black hair. No doubt the murmuration was spread wide enough to be seen at Broadwater Hall. She couldn't help but let her mind drift to Sofia, looking out of some huge window, or sat in some well-kept garden, watching the show for herself. Nell would ask about it tomorrow, she decided.