Free A Mother's Sacrifice by Catherine King

forwards without any obvious interest in buying. The gentleman, who wore a smart coat and a tall hat over very straggly hair, and the younger of the two women eventually departed in the direction of the inn and the older woman picked her way across the market debris to where Quinta was sitting. She was dressed in a very fancy gown embellished with pleats and bows and had on a bonnet trimmed with matching ribbons. Quinta thought she was gentry and stopped chewing as the woman approached her.
    ‘On yer own, are yer?’ She didn’t speak like a lady.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Looking fer work, eh?’
    ‘No.’ Not now, she thought, aware of her full purse safely hidden away.
    ‘I know where a lass like you can earn a sovereign a week. Think of that. A whole sovereign. It’s enough fer yer ter buy a new gown and bonnet whenever yer want.’
    Quinta didn’t believe her, but she wondered what she was talking about. ‘Where’s that then?’ she asked.
    The woman stretched out her hand. ‘Come wi’ me and I’ll show yer.’
    Quinta recoiled, staring at her hand. It was gnarled and knobbly but adorned with several glittery rings.‘No, thank you. Go away,’ she said firmly.
    The woman persisted. ‘Look at all these gent’men around yer. All wi’ money in their pockets.Where do they come from?’
    ‘They live here, don’t they?’
    ‘Aye, lass, they do. They work in the mines and manufactories or fer the railway company. Some are proper gentry, spending their pa’s riches. Plenty ter go round, yer see.’
    Quinta didn’t see and went back to eating her pie.
    The woman looked impatient and then curiously intent. She took a step closer and asked, ‘’Ave you never ’ad a sweetheart?’
    She shook her head as she chewed and remembered the sergeant asking her the same question.
    ‘Never? You still a maid, then?’
    ‘Of course I am!’ Quinta replied indignantly.
    The woman’s bony fingers enclosed her wrist. ‘Come wi’ me, ducks.’
    Quinta tugged at her hand but the woman would not release her. She dropped her pie in the struggle and muttered, ‘Let me go, I don’t like you.’
    And then the woman whistled. She put her finger and thumb between her lips and whistled like a man! Quinta’s eyes widened as the younger woman she had noticed earlier loomed close, apparently from nowhere. She was very pretty and had rouge on her cheeks and lips and - and, oh, Quinta realised she had rouged her bosoms where they thrust out of her gown without any muslin to cover them. She wore coloured feathers in her tangled hair and reminded Quinta of the travelling players that visited from time to time.
    The girl took hold of her other wrist with fingers that felt like iron bands and jerked her forward. Quinta half fell off the wall.
    ‘Leave me alone. I’m not coming with you!’
    ‘Get her down the alley quick,’ the older woman said. Her tone had changed from wheedling to anger and she began to haul Quinta after her.When Quinta resisted, the woman seethed at her companion, ‘Put yer back into it, girl.’
    ‘No!’ Quinta pulled against both of them as they dragged her away. She turned her head and yelled, ‘Mother! Wake up, Mother! Help me!’
    ‘What’s going on?’ Mrs Haig roused from her slumber and rolled to her knees.‘You leave my Quinta alone,’ she called.Then she stood up and raised her voice and, between coughs, wheezed, ‘They’re taking my Quinta. Stop them! Somebody help her!’
    A small crowd gathered to stare and the older woman turned a bright smile on them and said, ‘Don’t listen ter ’er. This girl is my daughter and that drunk over there was trying ter steal ’er from me.’
    ‘That’s not true!’ Quinta protested loudly. ‘She isn’t a drunk, she’s my mother!’
    ‘Yes, I am!’ Laura echoed. ‘I was asleep, that’s all, and this - this madam is stealing my Quinta.’ By now Mother was on her feet and lunging at the older woman, prising her fingers from Quinta’s wrist. At the same