for clarification, Elizabeth is in no way similar to Grace and the story line will NOT be the same. there are so many twists coming.

II

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀LIGHT spilled through the white patterned voile that covered the window, signalling the rise of the morning sun. The smog outside managed to subdue the sun drastically, though it was still bright enough to raise Elizabeth from her sleep. Yawning, she lay with her eyes closed for a few moments and as the memories from the day before began coming back to her, her eyes sprung open to observe the room around her.

It was the first time she had seen the room in daylight. It needed a good clean and could benefit from some newer furniture at some point, though this wasn't a priority. For now, a clean and some rearrangement would be sufficient. She lit a fire and put the kettle on to boil, making her bed while she waited for her morning tea.

She rifled through her suitcase and chose the best dress she could find, though it paled in comparison to the expensive garments she had adorned the day before. She wanted to look smart if she was to walk around Small Heath enquiring for jobs.

She wasn't sure where the sweet shop was located so she set off early, allowing herself time to explore as she knew she would inevitably get lost. Navigation was never her strong suit. There was a distinct smell of animals, dirt and factory smoke which somehow went unnoticed when she arrived the night before. Trying to ignore the pungent smell, she instead focused on how populated the little town was and observed the sights before her; women stood outside beating their mats, causing big clouds of dirt to rise and swirl in the middle of the street, children running around playing games together, shift workers either on their commute to work or on their way home. Despite how early in the morning it was, it seemed the whole of Small Heath was wide awake.

After walking around for about twenty minutes she finally spotted the small sweet shop she was looking for. Passing an alleyway that seemed familiar she realised with a sigh that she had gone around in a big circle for the past ten minutes.

The sweet shop looked old from the outside, though it seemed to be an inviting place. The wooden frame of the door and the window panes were painted a warm, chocolate brown and the large bay window held big lettering spelling out TOM'S CONFECTIONER.

She peered through the window and noticed an elderly gentleman behind the counter weighing out some sweets. Smoothing down her dress with her hands, she entered the shop timidly. The little bell above the door rang out, alerting the gentleman of her presence. He turned to face her with a kind smile. "Morning, ma'am, what can I get for you today? Let me guess, you're a pear drop kind of girl?" He asked kindly, his metal scooper still in hand.

She laughed lightly. "As a matter of fact I am a pear drop kind of girl," she agreed with him, impressed by his guess. "But I was actually coming to ask if you had any employment going." Her voice trailed off. As she saw his face twist regretfully she rushed in to a further explanation, hoping she could persuade him to hire her. "I'm an extremely hard worker and I have a full reference to give," she fished out her folded letter of recommendation, holding it out for the man. "I only ask as Ms Winters recommended I try here first." His face seemed to change at the mention of Ms Winters, softening somehow. Elizabeth realised the name was familiar to him.

"I expect that's her way of telling me I'm getting on a bit," he laughed, gently taking the reference from her hand. He skimmed over the piece of paper and then smiled at her, defeated. "This is a brilliant reference, whoever wrote it was clearly fond of you. Do you have any experience of working in a confectionary?" He asked.

"I don't, no. But I'm willing to learn!" She tried to smile as sweetly as she could. She expected the remaining jobs in town weren't nearly as pleasant and was desperate to succeed in getting this one. "I can read, write and I can do mathematics with just a pen and paper." She added, trying to rack her brains of any other skills she had to offer.

"That'll do just fine, love." He chuckled at her. "Shall we say you can start tomorrow? Come for 6 o'clock and I can show you the basics before we open up."

The grin that followed was the cheek-aching type, but she couldn't seem to wipe it off her face no matter how hard she tried. Filled with glee she thanked him (twice!) and almost skipped out of the shop. She couldn't believe how straightforward it had been nor how lucky she was.

The walk back seemed to take half the time, and she managed to navigate herself back without getting lost. She felt so thankful for the kindness that the elderly gentleman had shown her, and thankful for Ms Winters's recommendation. She made a mental note to grab Ms Winters something from the grocery store as a thank you – it was, after all, down to her kind recommendation and clear connection with the man that Elizabeth had managed to land herself a job with such ease.

Elizabeth's chirpy mood made quick work of all of her chores, as she managed to clean the apartment, hang all of her clothes in the heavy oak wardrobe neatly and organise her small trinkets in an aesthetic manner in hardly any time at all. Once the apartment was in fit working order, she set off to buy some food to stock up her cupboards. She would only be able to pick up staples that day as she was headed to the stores located a bit further out of town, but she could grab any extras after work the next day.

The road out of town was long and ill-paved, after a while Elizabeth's feet began to ache. The cold January air nipped at her skin and turned the pigmentation of her face a beet-red, while her hands were painted a pale blue even under the cover of her leather gloves. She passed the small grocery shop in Small Heath, but continued on her way, determinedly heading out of town.

Elizabeth entered the bakery, admiring the different sorts of breads that were behind the counter. Making small conversation with the shopkeeper, she chose the loaf that looked the most appetising, asking for half. Paying the shopkeeper what was due, Elizabeth thanked him and left the store.

This continued as she made rounds of all the relevant shops, picking up lard, cheese, butter and milk. As she was approaching the butchers to get some bacon, she saw the silhouette of a rather stocky gentleman, donning a suit and long overcoat and a top bowler's hat. From the back she could just vaguely make out the puffing of a pipe.

The hairs on the backs of her arms rose slightly, her stomach somersaulting at the sight before her. There were no doubts in her mind over who this was; the profile was so distinctive and out of place, there was only one man it could belong to. She observed him as he moved to the fruit and veg stall located just next to the butchers.

She lit a cigarette and walked towards the gentleman, standing 20 inches away from him and looking straight ahead, observing the apples in front of her. "Good morning, Inspector Campbell." She managed to breath out, hoping to sound nonchalant.

"Good morning to you, Miss Young," his Northern Irish accent rung strong, though his voice was deliberately lowered. "Thank you for volunteering yourself for such a position, I trust you to have the upmost integrity as any other agent of the Crown." His voice was harsh and domineering, Elizabeth could almost hear the authority in his tone. "Our current intelligence is not sufficient enough and we need somebody on the ground, so to speak, to pass on any information they think could be valuable in relation to the contents of this file here." A slight gesture of his wrist indicated the brown paper file that was tucked underneath his arm. Elizabeth hadn't noticed it in her initial assessment of him.

Slyly the pair managed an exchange, Elizabeth placed the file delicately at the bottom of her basket, hiding it by placing her groceries strategically over the top. "Thank you, Inspector Campbell. Can I say what an honour it is to be trusted with such crucial work?" She flattered him purposefully. She fixed the smile to her face, hoping it looked genuine, ignoring how a slight blush crept up his neck. The thought made her feel nauseous.

"Have you found yourself suitable employment?" He asked.

Elizabeth pondered what 'suitable' meant, but decided she would utilise her job to its fullest potential. "Yes, I have."

"Good," he nodded, cutting their exchange short with a turn of his back. "A good day to you, Miss Young."

Elizabeth looked down at the brown paper file that was only slightly peeking out from the basket desperate to read its contents but not foolish enough to risk doing so in public. Entering the butchers, she bought two lots of bacon, an extra portion to give to Ms Winters as a thank you gift. With the added weight of the meat, the basket had become increasingly heavy and Elizabeth decided to turn back home before she was unable to carry the basket any further.

The walk back seemed to take longer than the walk there and Elizabeth wondered if the anticipation of opening the file was the cause for that feeling. When she finally got home she gave Ms Winters the bacon straight away. Ms Winters was extremely thankful and congratulated Elizabeth on her new job, seemingly very pleased for the young girl. Elizabeth then bid her a good afternoon and rushed up to her own apartment, taking a seat at her kitchen table. With almost trembling hands she took the file from the bottom of the basket and got ready to open it up.

Time to see what dirt lay hidden in Small Heath.