⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀  I

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀BY the time the heavy steam engine rolled in to Birmingham's train station it was eight o'clock in the evening and frightfully cold. Passengers shifted excitably as the screeching of the train's gradual braking alerted them of their arrival. The train journey had been a long one and the stiff chill of the January air had made sitting still for hours upon end almost unbearable.

Elizabeth Young stretched out her legs under the weight of her long dress and heavy winter coat, watching her fellow passengers spring to their feet as the train stilled, desperate to step out of the train and, as Elizabeth assumed, in to the arms of their awaiting family. She was unhurried in picking up her hat and luggage case, almost moving in slow motion compared to the hustle and bustle around her.

One foot in front of the other, she stepped off the train and on to the platform. As she exited the station she observed a solitary Unic taxi cab, hand painted black, though not to a very high standard as even in the dark the flaking paint was visible. She approached the cab hastily, hoping to beat any of the other passengers who may have also needed to hire a taxi. Small Heath was too far a distance to walk, particularly in the dark, and she wasn't about to let the only cab here get snapped up by somebody else.

"Good evening ma'am," the taxi driver politely took off his cap in greeting as she approached, giving her a small smile as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Need a cab?" The gentleman was fairly old with salt and pepper coloured hair, though he was relatively clean shaven and his skin was quite clean for such a working-class town.

"Please," she smiled back, noticing how the chilly wind turned her words in to frosted, swirling air between them. "to Small Heath." The gentleman raised his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting such a fine young lady to be heading towards Small Heath, but agreed nonetheless, offering her a hand to help her up in to the car and picking up her luggage with an effortless sweep of his arm, placing it securely in the back.

The cab jolted slightly as it trundled down unperfected roads, spurred on by the whirring of the engine. "So, what are you doing in Small Heath, then?" He asked her kindly, turning briefly to look at her. "Visiting family?" The smile she held disappeared for a fleeting moment before returning, though this went unnoticed by the cab driver who had turned back round to concentrate on the bumpy road.

Elizabeth cleared her throat before answering. "No, I've decided to move somewhere new, I got tired of London." she answered, gazing out of the window. As they neared Small Heath the view from the window changed from grasslands and small buildings to masses of back-to-back houses with small brick yards, industrial size factories and dirty shift workers on their walk home.

"Tired of London!" The man laughed. "I've never heard of such a thing."

She offered a small smile, shrugging her shoulders. "It all starts to feel the same after a while."

"Are you sure you were living in London?" The man jested, his mind boggled at the thought of anybody being bored in such a lively city. "And are you sure you've come to the right place? I'm not sure what you think Small Heath has to offer but I promise you it's got nothing on the Mighty South."

The thought of what Small Heath had in store for her stirred something inside her stomach, ignited all of her nerve endings and electrified the hair on her arms. The future this small town offered was so close she could almost taste the satisfaction on the tip of her tongue. "I've definitely come to the right place." She answered, with an almost victorious smile.

After a few more minutes of navigating the small lanes the driver turned around with a smile. "We're in Small Heath ma'am, where abouts is it you're headed to?" Drunks stood in the streets jeering at each other, their Brummie accents so thick Elizabeth could barely understand what was being said.

"I'm letting a small house on Waysbrook Lane, I'm meant to be meeting the landlord there." She responded, wondering what her new home would be like.

The man nodded and took a couple of turns down even narrower lanes. They passed a pub that seemed to be full of life, though not quite on the same scale she was used to observing in London. "Right you are then," he said as he cut the engine, parking outside a row of houses all terraced together. "We're here."

He assisted her out of the taxi and collected her bag for her, placing it carefully at her feet in fear of breaking something inside; no doubt in his mind that all of her belongings would be valuable. After receiving the fare money, he bid her a good evening and drove off.

She wandered slowly down the street, looking for number 14. Finding it to be the house right on the end of the street, she stood outside of it hesitantly. She decided to enjoy a final cigarette before knocking on the door, lighting up and inhaling with a happy sigh. Observing the workers and drunks that passed her on the streets she wondered how out of place she looked with her auburn hair peeking out from her hat and her big winter coat, she wondered if she was managing to give false pretences of her monetary status.

Puffing slowly on her cigarette, she savoured each lungful of smoke, willing it to calm the storm that had started raging inside her stomach. She studied the faded red of the brickwork and observed the heavily populated street, imagining her new life in this town. The letter correspondence she had with the landlord told her the house was set up almost as two flats: the landlord would be living downstairs, while she was to live upstairs. The fee was a fair one (if you didn't include the extra fee to use the bathtub, she found that price to be rather extortionate) and it was something cheap enough to get her by during her stay in Birmingham.

Plucking up her courage, Elizabeth rapped on the door firmly, stepping back to avoid overwhelming her hostess. The door swung open easily, revealing a rather stout woman wearing a plain grey dress, her hair tied up neatly behind her head. "Ms Winters?" Elizabeth asked politely, sticking out her hand for a handshake.

Slowly the woman lifted her own hand to meet Elizabeth's. "Yes, I take it you are Miss Young?" she questioned, soaking in the young girl's appearance. She didn't know what she was expecting, but the youthful Elizabeth Young was definitely not it.

"I am," she grinned toothily, hoping to end the inspection she was currently under. "Thank you for allowing me to let the upstairs apartment."

A raise of the woman's hand interrupted her. "Not so fast, come in and we'll go over the ground rules and payment." Keeping a smile, Elizabeth entered the house, mindful to remove her hat as she did so.

The rules consisted of typical mundane items that Elizabeth expected to hear; no men to visit her in her room ("I run a respectable household and I will not have Small Heath thinking otherwise"), no smoking inside the property, etc. After the rules and fares had been agreed upon, Ms Winters offered to make Elizabeth a cup of tea while she got settled. Declining, Elizabeth explained she wanted to rest early to make sure she was up in the morning to go job hunting.

"What sort of employment will you be looking for?" The woman asked, standing to fetch the spare front door key for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stood too, gathering her belongings. "I'm not too sure, I'd quite like to get some work in a book shop of sorts." She answered with a small shrug.

The woman laughed at her, giving her a sympathetic shake of the head. "I'm afraid you'll find no such like in Small Heath, dear. We don't have any book shops and I'm not sure that anybody can read." Elizabeth let out a small 'oh', wondering what other jobs she could gain with her skills. "I tell you what, there is a very small sweet shop a few streets down, the owner is getting on a bit and he could probably use a spare pair of hands. Get down there in the morning and see if you could be of any use to him."

Thanking her for her advice, Elizabeth collected her key and exited the apartment. The set-up of the house was relatively simple Elizabeth noted; as you came in the front door the stairs leading to Elizabeth's apartment were straight ahead of you, or if you turned right there was another door complete with locks, which lead straight through to Ms Winter's apartment. While there was no second door to enter her apartment, Elizabeth still felt at ease as Ms Winters didn't look to be the snooping type.

Elizabeth made a rough job of unpacking, deciding that could be another job for tomorrow, quickly got dressed in to some thick pyjamas and headed straight to bed, Lord knew she needed the rest if tomorrow was going to be as big a day as she had planned.