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𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁

Two months ago, Anna would have easily believed that she had died and gone to heaven, had she seen the sights of Australia then. But as she strolled, her mind free, for a single moment, of any worry that she could possibly have, she knew this was real. It wasn't a mind trick, a figment of her imagination made to block out the realities, nor was it a dream in a long slumber.

The coastal city that they docked in was beautiful. Everything was golden: the sun, the people, the streets that were gleaming of trailed in yellow sands. Even as they walked for twenty minutes into the heart of the town, they could still hear the rustling of the waves against the shore of a beach they hadn't yet seen. She could get used to the sound, Anna thought, but she knew she couldn't allow herself the chance.

The streets were busy, lines with multicoloured canopies of a jagged market, filled with brightly coloured spices and freshly gutted fish. Tall boards lines the sides of them, pastel in colour and smooth in its shape. For surfing, they said, a new sport from another far off land that she couldn't remember the name of.

"Wait here a minute."

Robert stopped in front as Anna shuffled to a nearby stall. It was small, covered from the high sun by a single striped sheet that draped across two metal poles. An old man stood behind the bench, his face kind and withered by the many years he had seen, laughter lines shaping his face into one great smile.

She picked up one of the objects that had caught her eye along the stall, after he silently urged her to look. The ornament felt cool in her hands, the delicate material connected but barely tall enough to reach past her middle finger. Given the material and usual use of an ornament such as that, it should have been a nimble ballet dancer or an old Victorian lady depicted as a tiny statue. But the small keepsake showed two ordinary people- though probably much happier than the norm. A woman and her daughter, standing on golden stand that slipped into bold red letters. Australia.

"How much for the ornament?" She asked and the shopkeeper names his price.

Anna shuffled around for the minimal coins that were somewhere on her person. There weren't enough of them to hold a significant amount of weight and so she checked many pockets, until she found a small handful in the side pocket of her suitcase. If she bought the ornament, she would have nothing left, but she had made it this far without the need for money, she could surely make it the rest.

She thought about her mother too. How good it would be to have something to give her! A show of how much she had overcome just to find her family, because she would find them, and she would tell them of all of her adventures and of the harsh conditions she had endured. She would tell them how much she missed them and how much she had always loved them. Whoever they all may be.

Anna handed over the money and the shopkeeper smiled as he took the ornament from her hands, wrapping it in a thin brown paper and tying it was a bow of thin rope. She smiled thankfully, turning to leave with the wrapped up parcel, before he placed a cold coin to the top of her hand. She flipped it, letting the cool metal drop to her palm.

"You keep that," he said in a sing-song voice. "Welcome to Australia!"

She thanked him, moving away without another word said, too afraid that he would turn around with an evil glare and accuse her of theft. But she would take what she could get, and a single coin was better than no coin at all.

Robert has taken up the front again, weaving them around until they would eventually spot the address that had been scrawled on the crumpled document that she had found in her case. Number twenty three, King Street. It was a common street name, and they had already walked through one on their small journey, but there had been no houses, only a row of newly-established shops, all without numbers.

They found the street eventually and Anna began walking slower than she ever had before. The minute she stepped into that house, everything would change, yet again. Numerous times, she had done it before. The introduction. The awkwardness. The neglect. Then the want to run away. It would all come eventually and she just wished she could avoid it all.

They stopped in front of number twenty three. It wasn't too fancy nor too poor, and Anna even admired the soft trickle of ivy that ran around the shuttered windows in soft decoration. It looked very much like a woman's home. Through the window she could see pink cotton sheets that lay on the kitchen table, a light green painted on the walls. She had told it was a couple's home- a young man and woman of around thirty. Perhaps the man was kinder than any of the fathers she had encountered in the other adoptive homes she had been pushed in. Maybe they actually loved each other.

"This is goodbye," Robert said, shaking her from her thoughts.

He seemed happy, a smile on his face as there always was. But Anna couldn't stop the frown that was forming on her face, pulling at her cheeks and tugging her brows into a furrow.

"Good look, Anna. I wish you well," he said.

"You too." She forced on a smile, ticking her chin up. "Thank you. For all you've done for me."

"Goodbye.

He gave her one last nod as he turned to walk down the street again, the way they came. He didn't turn back once. Both he and Anna knew there was no use in anything other than brief words. He had helped her and she had thanked him for it- there was nothing else that could be said. Or well, nothing else that wouldn't just cause more sadness on her part. She was grateful of the fact that he recognised that, leaving her without too much of a parting.

Anna turned back toward the house and walked toward the cherry red door, stretching her hand to knock against the large numbers that were painted against the wood. Number twenty three. Her new home. Only for a few weeks, she thought.

With a sharp click, the door opened to reveal a short woman, her face puffy and red around the eyes as if she had been crying. She had been crying, Anna noticed. The woman sniffled still, her nose rubbed raw and lips bitten. Her eyes widened as she took in the girl at her door step, her gaze trailing over the battered suitcase and clean cotton dress. The dress Mrs Lightwood has given her. She felt conflicted just feeling the material against her skin, being reminded of it as the woman took it all in.

"Mrs Bagley?" She asked, realising that the woman wouldn't be speaking first.

"Anna?" She nodded. The woman's lip wobbled and then, within seconds, she was pulling her into a hug, wet tears meeting Anna's shoulder. "We were supposed to collect you from the boat! I was in tears thinking something had happened!"

Anna stumbled back as Mrs Bagley didn't let go. She stuttered out, "I'm sorry."

The woman finally pulled away, using one hand to place it on Anna's shoulder and the other to wipe the tears from her own face. A man appeared beside her, wrapping a hand around her waist. Mr Bagley was tall, his arms and legs lanky and far too long for his short torso. He had a warm and friendly smile too, just as she suspected Mrs Bagley would have, had she stopped crying completely.

He must have heard their messy introduction as he said, "Come in, its getting late. You must be hungry."

She nodded, half dazed by the loud actions Mrs Bagley and the quickness to welcome her in. Already it was so much different to all the other time.

"This is my husband, Matthew Bagley. I'm Polly." She managed to splitter out.

Anna felt herself falter at the name. Polly? She couldn't have heard that right. And as Repeated the woman's name in question, she almost sighed in relief as she shook her head.

"No, Molly, dear," Mrs Bagley said, her tears disappearing her as she hurried to let her into the house.

The inside was just as pretty as the outside. The halls were filled with charming, little picture frames holding blurry images of the couple and presumably their families. She had never seen such a wall, filled with as many pictures. And the garden! Anna could see it from the sitting room window, bursting with the bright colours of wildflowers and vegetables from the edible patches that were planted to the back, mingling with the freshly painted garden gnomes that stood watch.

She felt a tug on her sleeve and turned to see Mrs Bagley urging her to sit at the kitchen table. "Come, sit. There's soup ready for us."

A bowl was placed in front of her, filled with a warm red liquid. Her stomach tingled at the heavenly scent, too hungry to be able to make the usual low growling sound. How long had it been since she had eaten homemade soup? They sat opposite her, closely, with their own bowls, eating happily as they watched her slowly pick up her spoon. Anna could feel their eyes in her, but she was far too hungry to care.

"Thank you," she said, after half the bowl was already gone. "It's very good soup."

Molly Bagley blushes, thanking her for the kind compliment. "Would you like to tell us about yourself? Or is there anything you'd like to know?"

Anna took a breath. This was where it would start. They would get attached the more she said. The more they were attached, the more guilt she would feel when she eventually left.

"Molls, your scaring the poor lass," Matthew said with a light laugh. There was a hint of an accent behind his voice- one that she couldn't name.

"I'm just very tired. Could we talk in the morning?" She said politely, her eyes flitting between the two.

"Oh, yes, I suppose. I'll show you to your room if you're ready. I hope you like it." Mrs Bagley said, shooting up out of the chair and across the kitchen.

Anna rose steadily, but turned to ask a question before she could be lead up the stairs. "Thank you. There is one thing I'd like to ask."

"Anything, my dear." They were eager to please.

"Why did you agree to take me in?"

The timidness to her voice made Molly startle slightly, her pointy chin wobbling as she stared at her. "Well, we struggled to have our own children but we couldn't live without one."

Even Mr Bagley smiled in a agreement. Anna nodded and continued up the stairs, following Mrs Bagley as she lead her to a small room at the corner of the landing. She dumped her bag on the bed, sitting down beside it and letting her hands run across the covers. They were line, woven a dark orange that reminded her of a sunset. It was fitting- she was on the sunny side of the world now.

"Sleep as long as you need," Molly said, remaining at the door. The woman's voice and movements were still unsure.

"Thank you." Anna smiled and waited for the door to be shut as she was left alone.

Her room was cosy, she would admit, but not enough so that she felt a need to stay. She felt the edge of her worn suitcase digging into her thigh. Anna wouldn't unpack- she would live out of the case until she left, because she knew she would leave. Even if she did rather like it.

Anna sighed. The cushion was like a cloud beneath her head as she lay back into the bed. Her back ached, though not from the mattress- a tender bruise had formed across her skin since she had fallen from the ladder on the boat. She waited for the rocking to come, the shimy of the boat as it slid over one wave after the next. But this wasn't a dream, this was really her new room.

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There was never a person with a more agreeable outlook on life than Josephine Kinney. Despite her rattled upbringing (her mother had died when she was two and her father had worked every hour since), she always had a beaming smile on her face, lit up like a thousand candles in a dark room. Perhaps that was why Anna loved her so much.

Having spent the first three and a bit years of her life in a chaotic house in Birmingham, it was no wonder that Anna was attracted to big and wonderful personalities. Josephine and Will fitted that description as well as anyone could.

It was why, for the first time since the tarot reading, Anna found herself dreaming about the older girl out of all the possible things in her life. At fourteen, Anna was still afraid of the thunder- or, at least, that was what she told Josephine. In truth, she loved having sleepovers in her room so much that she felt the need to lie. Though looking back, Anna could see that she was a terrible liar and Josephine probably saw right through it all.

Even through the dream, the warmth of Josephine's bed ran right through her. The soft quilt touched up to her nose, the frayed edges tickling her skin as they poked from the sides- Josephine loved the blanket too much to ever chuck away. She was sentimental like that, another thing that Anna found in common with her new sister. They both felt a close need to keep personal things forever. She understood Anna's want to run home as clear as anyone.

"So what do you think of Will?"

Josephine spoke just as a ripple of thunder boomed through the room. Though delayed, Anna made herself jump, tucking in closer to the blanket in feigned fright. Looking back at it, she would laugh if she could. Josephine said nothing, instead choosing to smile as she nudged her to answer.

"I like him. I think he'd be fun," Anna said and Josephine nodded. "How long have you been friends with him?"

"Just a year." Josephine turned away as her cheeks began to flush a deep red and tucked herself into the pillow. She willed herself to sleep without saying a word more.

How had she missed it? It was laughable actually, the clear naivety toward Josephine's feelings. The girl clearly fancied Will. Though nothing had changed, really, she was still the same too trusting girl in and out. It had always been her weakness.

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