Chapter 5
“The Left-Behind Child”
The convent was quickly cleared away, as if it had never existed.
“Lily, sister?”
The attic door opened cautiously, and little Rose peeked her head through.
“Our little princess, come here,” Lily said, and Rose immediately threw herself into her arms. She didn’t speak for a long while, holding Lily’s waist tighter and tighter in silence.
“Why aren’t you going with us?”
“I like Londinium. East Longfellow doesn’t have a library, an ice cream shop, or even a movie theater,” Lily answered cheerfully, like a singing bird.
Rose puffed out one cheek in surprise.
“You like that more than us?”
Lily smiled, gently pinching Rose’s cheek.
“No, I’m going to get a job here. Everyone my age is already working.”
“What kind of work? You’ve never even been a maid. Come with us.”
“Making envelopes, organizing books, sweeping the yard… my day will be busy enough,” Lily replied playfully.
Rose didn’t insist any further. Instead, tears welled up in her freckled face.
“I’ll write letters, Rose. Once I earn money, I’ll buy pretty clothes and come to the convent. Until then, stay healthy,” Lily said.
The children were paired up and loaded onto the luggage cart. Sister Bolina held Lily’s hand, the only one left.
“I’m sorry for leaving you behind, Lily.”
“It’s not your fault, Sister,” Lily shook her head.
“Brigida wanted to tell me something that day. Did you know, Sister?”
“Other than that she planned to meet Member Phil Gordon, I don’t know….”
“It seemed important.”
Bolina looked at Lily with a pained expression.
“I don’t know what she wanted to say to you. My memory of the days around the accident is hazy… I’m sorry…”
Bolina asked Mr. Rutland, a devout man, to provide Lily with room and board until she could find a home and a job.
Mrs. Rutland gave Lily a shabby storage room used by the household staff.
Every day, Lily scoured job postings on the streets and in newspapers, taking meticulous notes.
But work was hard to find, and her money was dwindling fast.
“Elizabeth, are you looking for work?”
Moreover, Mrs. Rutland’s scolding grew worse. She no longer even met Lily’s eyes, leaving only her own dishes on the table whenever the household was out.
“I’ll find a job this week, so please wait just a little longer. In the meantime, I can help with household chores.”
Mrs. Rutland cut her off.
“Timothy said he’ll be back this vacation. Until then, I want you out of this house.”
Hearing the name Timothy, a smile appeared on Lily’s face, which made Mrs. Rutland scowl.
“Timothy? We haven’t seen each other for over three years.”
She disliked the familiarity of an orphan calling a son’s name. Timothy had been Lily’s friend since their first meeting at the church, but now it didn’t matter.
“Does Timothy even write to you?”
Even Lily’s appearance was a target for criticism. Keeping a striking orphan in the house might invite trouble.
“Oh, we haven’t been in contact recently,” Lily said.
Mrs. Rutland would always think of scandalous gossip involving servants and men whenever she looked at Lily.
“Right. Then you probably didn’t know. This time, I’m trying to find his fiancée,” she said, emphasizing ‘fiancée.’
“And it’s been quite some time since the sisters left. I suspect you plan to settle here. We cannot afford to hire another maid.”
Lily knew Mrs. Rutland didn’t like her—and that she feared Timothy might take a liking to her.
She wanted to insist that they were just friends, but she swallowed the words. Even the word “friend” would annoy Mrs. Rutland.
Orphans were hated by everyone.
Lily was used to that prejudice.
[Restaurant Staff Wanted]
Every day, Lily anxiously scanned the newspapers. One day, an ad caught her eye—a small, almost hidden listing.
[No recommendation needed. Salary negotiable. 100% of tips from regular patrons. Young, healthy women welcome.]
Most jobs required a recommendation, which an orphan like Lily couldn’t provide. Jobs without recommendations were rare.
She decided to knock on that door immediately.
Though the route near Londinium cemetery was familiar, the restaurant itself was hard to find. The streets were muddy. In the daytime, red-light district establishments blocked the way, which Lily, raised in a convent, didn’t even understand.
‘Smith Ray Restaurant & Pub’
She hesitated for a moment and knocked. It was early, so no customers were present. The man who appeared to be the owner greeted her enthusiastically.
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. I’ll be twenty after winter.”
She lied about her origins to avoid being dismissed as an orphan but answered honestly otherwise.
“From East Longfellow? I know it. Good place. Quiet, boring little countryside.”
Lily wasn’t sure if he was insulting or praising, so she smiled awkwardly. The man laughed, showing a flash of silver teeth.
“Our restaurant opens only in the evening. The customers aren’t exactly gentlemen, but you’ll get used to it,” he said, scratching his chin, offering a contract.
“With a face like yours, you’ll make plenty in tips. If you work well, I’ll even write you a recommendation for your next job.”
Lily smoothed the buttons of her dress that came up to her neck.
‘If I want to earn money and find a place to live, I have to endure this,’ she thought.
She took a pen and signed.
“Start today. We were short-handed anyway, so perfect timing,” he said without hesitation.
She was shoved into a shabby storage room in the restaurant’s back. Dirty boxes and a wardrobe made of planks held uniforms that looked suspiciously unwashed.
“Put it on and come out! Customers will be coming soon. It’ll be hectic today.”
The rough voice slammed the door repeatedly. Lily tried to fix her collar, but it was futile.
The outfit was tight and revealing, nearly straining her chest out of the fabric. She pinned the front with a safety pin, but it still wasn’t “modest.”
“This… this outfit is too strange. I can’t work like this,” she stammered.
The owner smiled approvingly.
“What are you saying? You signed here. Orders are piling up. Don’t even think about running.”
He grabbed her shoulders from behind and pushed her outside.
The customers fell silent for a moment when Lily appeared. Overwhelmed by the staring eyes, she froze.
Then she realized: this wasn’t a dining restaurant—it was a pub. Men drank, fought, and leered at the staff.
Thrown into the middle of it all, a young convent girl was an easy target.
“Drink a beer. Drinking before work relaxes you,” someone whistled.
It was tame compared to the others, who shoved a glass into her hand. Lily had never been surrounded by so many men.
“I even paid the owner for you. Drink it all.”
“Yeah, yeah! Think of it as a debut!”
Overwhelmed, Lily took a sip. The men cheered and banged the table.
“Good! Get her drunk completely!”
The bitter beer burned her throat. A man grabbed her arm, sitting her on his lap, whispering:
“How much for a night?”
She tried to get up, but he held her down. His body reeked of sour sweat.
“Don’t act innocent. I know girls like you. First day, I stare; second day, I hold your hand; third day, your chest…”
Though she’d never hit anyone before, her hands moved on instinct. The man’s swearing followed.
“Is this girl crazy?”
He overturned the chair and stood. Friendly eyes now mocked her.
He approached Lily, who backed against the wall.
“You like to see what happens to you, don’t you? Play along a little.”
Lily scrambled backward, but her hand hit the door handle. She pushed it with all her strength, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Pl-please move! I’ll call the police!”
The men laughed. Lily steadied her trembling voice, glaring at him. It was no threat. He grabbed her hair like a hunted rabbit.
“Ouch! Let go!”
He pressed her head against the door, his face inches away.
“Let’s see what happens if you refuse,” he sneered, leaning his weight toward her.
The filthy, massive body pressed against her. Lily twisted the door handle desperately, but the men’s grip was relentless.
