Lizzie's Song

Chapter 19- Night

After leaving Thomas' cell, Lizzie asks her father to take her to the hanging room, to see what Thomas saw. He does.

And she runs over what he must have felt over and over in her head as she lays awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark room that night.

It is near midnight; a knock on the door interrupts her thoughts, "Miss? Are you awake?"

Mr Hayes. She wraps herself in her dressing gown and opens the door.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but you said to call if he needed you...and he's woken himself yelling. He's terrified."

She nods and he sees her glance towards her dress, in a heap, on the floor, "Not to be too forward, Miss York, but given what happened today, I'd recommend putting on your jacket and coming without delay."

She does as he asks, grabs Thomas' quilt from the end of her bed, pulls on her boots, and meets him by the door. They are in the prison in minutes and it is eerily quiet. Someone cries in the dark. Someone else snores. When they reach Thomas' cell, Mr Hayes unlocks the door and steps in first, gesturing for Lizzie to follow once he knows it is safe.

Thomas sits on the bed, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, head bent, as though he is sleeping upright. Lizzie sits in front of him and bends to peer up at his face. His eyes are closed. She gestures for Mr Hayes to leave.

"I'm not sure about you staying the night here. What would your father say?"

She gestures for him to leave a little more aggressively.

Mr Hayes sighs, "I hope you know what you're doing." He locks the door behind him.

She tries to lift Thomas' chin, but he turns his head to avoid her. He isn't deeply asleep, even if he was when they entered. She pushes his hair back behind his ear and admires the way the shadows cast by the moonlight play on his face. The darkness under his chin, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the way his black hair falls against pale skin. Her thoughts wander and she envisions the rope just under his jaw, the knot under his ear. It hurts her heart. Without thinking, she brushes her fingers against his neck, the warmth of his skin and the slight flutter of his heartbeat a reassurance that he is still alive, that she did not lose him.

Her fingers linger a little under his ear and he startles awake, scrambling back to the corner, gasping. He reaches for his throat and then looks up to see Lizzie, her hands outstretched, whispering, "It's only me. You're safe."

"Lizzie. I'm...am I awake?"

She nods, then indicates towards the moon and then her notebook. She writes with it at an angle so she can see and then gestures for Thomas to come close.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think and touched your throat. The moonlight on your skin was stunning. You are beautiful."

He hands it back to her, "Yes, but what are you doing here?"

"Mr Hayes said you woke yourself yelling. He said you were terrified. He asked me to come to you. Then he wanted to hover. I have no doubt he is outside the door, listening. He did not want to leave us alone."

"My crimes, no doubt, lead him to be suspicious."

"Likely. But my father has vouched for you, and he holds a bit of power here. It is his word that had the governor send his letter to allow visits. I don't think you are dangerous. Nor do I think on your own you ever have been."

"When I woke, I thought I was dead."

"Given the day, is that any surprise? Also, you changed the subject quite quickly. I am the jailer's daughter; I notice. Talk."