Hey guys! I'm so sorry that I haven't published in a while, I've had some writer's block, some issues logging in, and just busy. This chapter is a little long, so once again I do apologize. I will definitely try to keep things going again!
I wearily sit up in bed, realising with agony that it is morning. It is still dark outside, and I can't see much of anything. I light the oil lamp next to my bed, and look over to see Ruby is still asleep. I sigh, knowing that I have to get up and do chores around the house. Having school, and my job at the sweatshop, I don't have much time to spare for anything else.
I quietly put on my school dress and pinafore, tie my hair back, and put on my boots before going downstairs to do my chores.
I start by going to our small backyard that consists of clotheslines and an outhouse to take down clothes that I left out to dry overnight. I bring them inside, mend them and fold them nicely, and go upstairs to empty my chamber pot. Of all of my chores, this one is by far the least pleasant.
After I finish, I make sure that I wash up really well, and I make breakfast. I make a little bit of eggs for everyone, and I toast a slice of bread and cut it into three different pieces to share. By now, the sun is almost risen, so I don't feel nearly as tired.Dinah comes downstairs, looking tired. Ruby came down soon after.
"Good morning," I greet.
"Well I hope that you slept better than I did," Dinah states, "I only got home from the factory a little after midnight, and I barely had time to sleep."
"It's too bad that your Welsh class was shut down," I sigh, "not only did you make more money, but you didn't have to work as long either."
"I agree," Dinah answers yawning, "the Welsh language is dying. It's unfortunate."
We all sit down at the table, and eat our small breakfast.
"I will say I do miss sausage," Ruby mumbles, "it really doesn't make me want to scrub the floors for the Archibalds once again. Doing chores in their big house makes me feel like a poor orphan."
"Be grateful that you have that job, Ruby," I reply, "it was the best and safest one we could find for you. They treat you nicely."
"Max doesn't though," she sighs, "or should I say Mr Maximilian Pierre Archibald the third. Knowing that he makes me call him 'sir' even though we are the same age is quite disturbing to me."
"Nobody ever said that Max was an angel," Dinah adds, "his parents are indeed kind, even though I do find it saddening that 'obey Maximilian' is on your chores list there."
"He's ugly, too," Ruby remarks.
I suddenly burst out laughing as I hear the way Ruby say that, "he is the short one with the big nose I've seen in the park, is he not?"
"Don't be rude, Ruby," Dinah scolds.
"Well, she's not wrong, Dinah. You should see that kid try to get on a swing!" I continue laughing. I stop as soon as I see Dinah shoot a glare towards me. "Well," I pause, "we best be getting to school then. I packed a small lunch for you in your basket, Ruby."
"Thank you," Ruby says as she gets up from the table. She leaves the room to retrieve her books from her bedroom.
"I feel awful that you can't go to school anymore, Dinah," I exclaim, "you shouldn't have to go back to that horrid factory."
"It's alright," Dinah consoles, "It was my last year of school anyway, and I have more than enough credit to go to university."
"I know," I say, "but I still feel upset for you. Actually, I guess I'm more upset at the fact that we've been looking for mother and father for a month and we haven't gotten anywhere."
Dinah puts her hand over mine, and smiles, "answers come with time. It won't be like this forever."
I grin in return. As soon as Ruby comes downstairs with her books, we gather our things for school.
"We'll see you tonight, Dinah," I say. We finish gathering our belongings, and leave.
***
"...and as soon as you multiply the exponent, we're going to carry the one..." the monotone voice fades back in as my vision becomes more clear. Have I been at school this whole time? I could have sworn that I was home and tucked in bed again, unless that was just a dream.
"Jane!" I hear a whisper behind me, "don't fall asleep!"
I look behind me to see my friend, Helen. I look up at the board and I can see that I have been out of it for a while. I feel something kick my desk with a clang! Our desks are made of metal frames, with wooden seats and tops of the desks. The sound feels loud, but I look around and see that nobody notices.
"Jane!" She whispers again, I see her holding up a small scrap of paper folded in half. I look up to see if the teacher will notice, stealthily take the paper, and unfold it on my desk to read:
You've been sleeping a lot lately. Are you alright?
I find space at the bottom of the paper, and write:
I'm fine. I worked late last night.
I pass it back, for it to be handed back seconds later.
I want to talk to you when we go to lunch.
***
"What did you want to tell me?" I ask. It has been a couple of hours since algebra class, and I am currently in the cafeteria with my friends, Helen and Morgan. It feels good to have a break from the boring and bland classrooms at this school. Even if it is being replaced by a noisy environment with long tables and too many kids crammed into one room, it is better than nothing.
"What is wrong with you lately?" Morgan demands.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what we mean, Jane," Helen answers, "you haven't been acting like yourself for weeks. It must be that job of yours."
"Why do you have that job?" Morgan adds.
I sigh, knowing that I have been keeping my own friends in the dark this whole time. "I need that job," I explain, "my family has not been doing very well financially, and we need all the money we can get." I dare not tell them about the ordeal with my parents, the last thing we need are people talking and possibly hauling us off to an orphanage.
"What about that factory job that your sister has?" Helen inquires, "it sounds amazing, working in such a place where things we need are being made so quickly by machines. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
The comment comes as a shock to me. Dinah has told me about horrendous things that have happened in the clothing factory she works in. People are treated like animals. Children younger than Ruby get hurt every day in those harrowing places. Helen didn't mean any offence, however I cannot blame her for her ignorance.
"Jane?"
"It's not wonderful, " I reply, "it's dreadful. You don't know what they go through."
"What is wrong with you?" Morgan snaps.
That's it. With that, I pick up my lunch and leave.
***
"Do you ever feel like people treat us differently now?" Ruby asks.
"A bit. In a twisted sense." I answer. We're sitting in the parlour, just after getting home from school. Dinah is still at work, and Ruby and I are due at our jobs in a little while. Ruby sits on the couch finishing her homework, and I sit in my simple black dress by the mirror, putting my hair back into a braid. This way, my hair will stay out of my way when I work.
"I think people know that something is going on, even though we haven't said anything about mama and papa," she continues, "it is interesting how things work like that sometimes."
"It is," I agree, "now go get into your work dress so I can do your hair."
Ruby slouches on the sofa, with a sour look on her face, "I can do my own hair."
"Ruby," I say, "you know very well that you must look presentable for your job. It is part of working for a wealthy family. You can't even brush through all of your own hair."
"Fine," she snarls. She stands up from the couch, and stomps out of the parlour, upstairs.
After a few minutes, she comes back down in a simple dress similar to mine, only hers has a white apron over the skirt. Her bouncy curls lie down naturally, as she holds a hairbrush in her hand. She sits in front of me, on the floor, with her back turned towards me.
"Don't pull too hard," she mumbles.
After finishing Ruby's hair, I admire my work with the low bun consisting of intertwined braids. Her hair looks flawless. Unfortunately, knowing Ruby's behaviour, it isn't likely that it will stay that way.
"You have pretty hair," I say.
"Not like yours, though," she answers, "mine is too light. You can barely see any red in your hair, and it makes it pretty."
"Beauty comes in all colours, Ruby. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
She laughs, "are you trying to teach me something, now? You sound like Papa."
"What is there to teach?" I playfully smile, "I'm just stating the truth. Now go on, and get to work. I'll see you tonight."
Ruby jumps to her feet, and runs out of the door with her hat and shawl. I hear the door close behind her, leaving me alone in the house. I am very reluctant to let Ruby walk by herself to her job. She has to take public transportation to get there, because the wealthy families such as the Archibalds live farther north in Cardiff.
I let out a deep sigh as I approach the front door, and put on my shawl and hat. The last thing I want to be doing is going to work another eight hour shift at the sweatshop, but I have to.
With a big sigh, I close the door behind me and start the journey.
After walking quite a few blocks, I reach the area where I work. I gaze up at the street lined with brick buildings. There are several clothes lines that outstretch over the street, and occasionally I walk by some random person asleep in the street.
As I round a corner, I see a young woman, who looks about Dinah's age, walking with a little boy. Both of them are dressed in stained, worn out clothes. I look at the little boy, holding the lady's hand, as he looks up and says, "Mama, I'm hungry."
I stop for a moment, finding it rather awkward to be walking behind them.
"I know," she answers to him, "I am too, but we have to wait to eat." I see her turn her head around back at me. I'm not sure what expression I have on my face, but she narrows her eyes, turns a corner, and they both disappear.
For the rest of the way, I mostly watch the ground, kicking pebbles. There are usually quite a few curious things you might see like that while downtown. I keep walking down the cobblestone roads, until I'm in front of a rather nice looking shop. There is a small store in the front, with simple dresses and suits in the windows. The shop only sells some of them, but most of the clothes that we make are shipped off to other places.
I scoff as I look at the sunny and pleasant shop, where women shop at their leisure, not knowing the blood, sweat, and tears that young girls like myself put into making those.
I go around the building, and enter the shop through a back door, because we're not allowed to go into the store. Apparently we would 'scare the customers away.'
I walk up some narrow stairs where the actual sweatshop is. I open a door, and walk past rows and rows of sewing machines and cutting tables. I sit at an empty machine between two girls. I put down my hat and shawl under my chair and get to work.
My job in the shop is making sleeves. I am rather above average when it comes to sewing, which is how I landed a job at a sewing machine. I have three baskets around my machine. The first one is cut out pieces of sleeves that one girl cuts at the cutting table. One has near-finished bodices that I attach the sleeves to. Then there is a basket on the other side where I put it when I am done, and when that basket is full, I pass it to the girl that does the next job. The assembly keeps going, until the girls that finish the product dumps them down a chute, where two girls downstairs fold and box them. I'm not sure if this is how an ordinary sweatshop works, but it does feel like a miniature factory from what Dinah has told me.
But the worst part is not the work itself, it's the supervisor. His name is Mr. Saunders, and he would sell his soul to the devil if it means he could have more money. I feel ever so fortunate not to have had an incident with Mr Saunders yet. He has a long pipe that he likes to bash on tables with to make himself look more intimidating. He is in charge of discipline, and he even has his own office up here. The big boss's office is in the nicer part of the building downstairs, and I never really see him. Nobody ever dares to go to Saunders' office, and nobody really knows what it looks like. But sometimes, when Saunders feels the need to heavily discipline a girl, he brings her to his office. It has only happened a couple of times, but when it does happen, we just hear a bunch of crashing, thudding, and screaming. The girl usually comes out of the office saying how she was brutally beaten. There is nothing we can do except hope that we won't be next.
"Hi, Jane!" I hear a cheerful whisper next to me.
I smile at hearing the small voice. I look over to my young friend, Maeve, who is about Ruby's age. I also see Maria- that is my age- sitting next to her.
"Did you have a good day off, Maeve?" I ask, "I know it was your mother's birthday, so that must have been nice."
"It was alright," She answers, "my mother was awfully lonely without my father. It's been a year since he died, but I think she just gets lonelier and more sad by the day."
"I'm sorry, Maeve," I say. I feel spoiled when I hear what has happened to Maeve's family. Her parents immigrated to Wales from Cambodia right before she was born. Her parents have assimilated to Wales as much as they could, causing conflict for Maeve and her five younger siblings. A year ago, Maeve's father drowned in a harbour, leaving Maeve with her mother and her many siblings. Her mother was so traumatised from the accident that it has driven her nearly insane, and she does nothing but sit around mumbling incoherently. Maeve has been left to take care of her family ever since.
I find it interesting that there are so many immigrant girls that work in the sweatshop. Maria is from Italy, and I'm one of the only girls that was born in Wales, counting Maeve too. Why is it that I only meet so many immigrants in places like a sweatshop?
We all silently get to work as Saunders comes out of his office with his pipe. I silently brace myself for the long day.
He paces around, making sure that we do what we're supposed to.
"WORK FASTER!" he would start screaming, "DO YOU WANT YOUR WEEK'S PAY TAKEN TOO!?"
I look up and see a girl trying to concentrate as she is cutting, as Saunders leans over her screaming in her ear. Suddenly, he sees Maria pause at her machine,and he comes over.
"KEEP WORKING LITTLE ITALY!!" I hear a loud bang as he hits her chair with his pipe, and I see her flinch out of the corner of my eye.
I keep working tirelessly, wondering if I will ever come out of this corner of sheer hell.