Dedicated to Maddi : the founder of the perfect title :)
and.... Jenna: the one and only editor :)
and my amazing little sister, Laura: my photographer :)
If you set your heart free
June 1554
If you set your heart free, where would it go? Maybe that’s why so many keep it locked up; afraid it will never return or come back shattered. What they don’t know is that the small jabs you feel when it returns broken are nothing because anything trapped behind bars eventually withers away.
...
Arabella is a gypsy. Her body sways freely to the fast paced music. Her heart beats to the sound of the bells strapped tightly to her ankles. They represent freedom, a freedom that is envied by onlookers whose paths are ruled out neatly before them, perfect measurements without space for variations.
But her heart remains trapped and despite others attempts at rescue, she still hold it captive.
The joyous tinkling of silver bells call out at every beat, feet swirl to the light-hearted beat of the tambourine. Long skirts sway to the music, hips move enchanted by the exuberant rhythm.
The villagers jostle around our imaginary stage in the middle of the busy market, women and children’s bodies flowing with the beat as they turn to watch and for a few moments their lives freeze and they give in to the music; sometimes tossing a few pennies into the hat that lay in front of us before turning away and continuing on their path. Men also stopped to stare in awe at our carefree movement and almost in an enchanted state slipped some coins into the hat.
The colourful atmosphere of juicy fruits, vegetables and items of all forms being waved in the faces of potential buyers and the buzz of the market added a bouncy rhythm to which our music danced.
It’s the beginning of summer in England and for the first time in months the sun was shining its bright rays down at us and an unspoken sense of hope hung around the cheerful market.
From the corner of her eye she could see the many curious, along with disapproving glances passed in her direction. Her snow white skin standing out amongst the delicate browns of the other dancers leaving her background an open book for passing villagers to browse. This thought had always scared Arabella because despite her attempts at disguising her hair as black and changing her name to Arabella she was always going to have the colour of her skin as a reminder of her past and that she was not a Roma and never would be.
As the fast-paced tempo of the violin changed over she decided to pull up a young girl who stood in awe of our cheerful dances. She looked as though she had spent the night on the street wich was not uncommon for majority could not afford to have roof above their heads.
She soon fell into the mood, swirling around under Arabella’s arms in her tattered dress, her bare feet tapping along with the rhythm.
Suddenly many passers-by found themselves hauled onto the fictional stage, caught up in the joyous music.
She knew the loud music and joyful dancing had drawn in a huge crowd, amongst which some of the gypsies walked, waiting for the right moment before gently slipping a silver necklace or carefully welded broach off an unsuspecting villager. This was the reason many disapproved of gypsies because along with their unconventional nomadic lifestyle they were branded thieves.
But in truth that’s what many of them were, the music was meant only as a trap to lure unsuspecting crowds. However to Arabella the music was her life, her heart yearned for the sound of the crowd clapping and the knowledge that she relieving them of their repetitive lives, even if only for a second. She was in it for the smiles that it drew on the weak, the sick and the hungry that walked the crowded allies of England without hope.
Although Arabella knew they only took from those who would never miss it, the morals of her childhood still repeatedly hounded her and for when the music finally stopped they were the only words she could hear.
The gypsies had been kind and caring towards her in a time when no one else had, allowing her to travel with them and accepting her as their own and for that Arabella felt that she would forever be grateful.
Without warning the street suddenly burst into a commotion, baffled shouts from villagers could be heard yelling, “Soldiers”.
The market became a frenzy of animals and people trying to steer clear of the trouble they knew was about to unfold. Around her, her other friends were grabbing all they could before taking off through the bustling market. It was then that she knew that it was us they were after and the rumour the gypsies had caught drift of was true. The soldiers had been sent to gather all the gypsies to be hung along with convicted thieves and illegal weapon dealers.
She grabbed the hat containing the only money they had and fled with the rest of them. Behind her she could hear the shouts of soldiers rampaging through the market in search of us, fear kept her from looking back. She made a quick decision to take refuge under a stand selling ripe apples instead of following her friends out into the quiet alleys.
For some time she listened to the uproar occurring in the streets trying to make out what was happening.
Abruptly the ragged table cloth hiding her was pulled up revealing a young man about the age of eighteen. Bracing for a struggle, Arabella clenched her fists, not wanting to give up without a fight but without so much as a word he dropped the table cloth back down, so it was once again covering her.
The sound of stand being knocked over suddenly broke out and in the haste of the moment the figure appeared again.
“I’ll give you a signal. When I do, run to the small alley behind the bakery,” His voice was calm and steady despite the chaos befalling the streets.
Minutes seemed like hours spent hunched under the small stand. Screams of resistance from captured gypsies could barely be heard above the racket of frightened bystanders. She had spent the last eight months traveling with these people and she had got to know and love each one’s unique personality, their screams caused her heart to cry out in pain
.
Suddenly there was silence. The British soldiers had control and she know well enough that it is not through peaceful agreements.
“If any of you are guilty of hiding a gypsy, hand them to me now and all charges will be dropped but if I find them hidden by you the penalty will be your hanging.” His voice was harsh and emotionless.
Suddenly she began to fear for the young man who had helped her, hoping it would not be at his own expense.
The harsh voice came again “So you have nothing to hide therefore you wouldn’t mind me searching your supplies?”
The crashing of supplies being knocked across the cobble streets and more tables being overturned before terrified villagers’ cries filled the market once again, She clutched her legs in fright as she heard them approach, preparing for the worst but a sudden scream from nearby caused them to stop.
“No, please take me but spare my child, she has done no harm. She can be brought up as an ordinary villager. Please.” Arabella knew the voice nearly better than that of her birth mother; it was Nataliya the women whose family she had stayed with. “Please,” She cried again through sobs.
A few chuckles emanated from the crude soldier, causing her fists to clench readying herself to protect her adopted family despite all odds. A hard jab from above caused her to jerk back into reality; there was no possibility that her bare hands could beat their weapons. She had to escape before she was found otherwise it would be the young man who would die alongside her.
She slowly etched her way out from under the stand, her heart beating so fast that she was sure they could hear it. The rough cobble stones scrape against her skin as she attempt to crawl cautiously behind the colourful stands.
Suddenly the sound of the man’s foot hitting the cobble streets screamed ‘run’. So she did, without turning back she ran, praying the commotion would keep the soldiers occupied.
The last thing she heard was Nataliya’s anguished cry, “Don’t hurt her, please I beg of you.”
She wanted to look back, needing to know if Nataliya and her tiny baby, Kali were going to be all right but she couldn’t because in the back of her mind she knew what was going to happen and she knew that there was nothing she would be able to do to stop it.
It felt like hours of running with fear clasping her icy limbs and causing her aching feet to endure the painful stabs of the jagged stones until she finally reached the cream sign of the bakery.
Her eyes dart around the vacant ally, it was only a few feet long with a tall row of bricks marking the end. A large pile of dusty brown sacks lay in the far corner probably filled with rubbish. Suddenly the sound of hooves filtered into the vacant ally, it could just be a villager making his or her way back home after an eventful da selling goods at the market, but she was not going to chance it. Arabella quickly shuffled her way in behind the dusty sacks, making certain nothing was visible. The sacks provide a warm blanket, sheltering her from the chilly air that filled the dreary ally.
The sound of hooves beginan to fade and soon even the commotion in the street dies down and for a few seconds it seems as though the world has frozen.
Then as though the world has been jolted back into reality everything starts moving.
The sacks are chucked roughly across the streets leaving her without protection. Her heart jumps with fright and a small shriek escapes her lips. Rough hands viciously grab her arms, yanking her out from behind the remaining sacks. The sudden jerk causes her legs to buckle sending her to the ground. With the only remaining strength she had she forced herself back onto her feet determined to put up a fight. Before her stood a burly figure his clothes blood red but the encrusted royal symbol was the reason her knees nearly buckled again. There was no doubt that he was a British soldier .
“I told you were to find her, now where is the money I was promised?” A familiar voice pierced the air.
Behind the soldier, stood the young man from the market.
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xxxxxx (to all who took the time to read this because you are awsome! :)