Romani Paradise

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚

A soft blanket of snow fell over London as Martha walked. It was cold, but it was undeniably more beautiful like this. She could see families in the windows of their homes, seated around the fire. The joy of Christmas was still in their eyes, even as they sent their New Year's greetings.
A young couple walked past her, arm in arm. They were smitten. Martha forced herself to swallow a lump in her throat that she hasn't even realized was there. She hadn't seen her family in two months. There hadn't been any update from them since before Tommy left her with Alfie. She hadn't even seen Bonnie since the night at Alfie's.
She tucked her hands into the pockets of the beige woolen coat and as she passed a shop window, she had to smile. Her nose was red from the cold, her hair hung loosely around her shoulders. As she turned the corner to Alfie's house she felt another lump rise. She wanted to go home, now more than ever.

"What is your relationship with Martha exactly?" Charlotte stood idly by the ring. Her hair was curled at the shoulder, her fur coat was hanging over her arm. She had taken a liking to following Bonnie around.
He eyes her suspiciously, her obsession with his girlfriend having gotten too much to bear.
"Listen." He said, stepping out of the ring.
"Whatever you want her for, go seek her out. I'm not opening my mouth."
He leaned on the ropes as he spoke, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand.
"You mean I can now talk to her with your permission." Charlotte smiled. Her teeth were remarkably white and straight. Bonnie wanted to kick himself for staring. She had noticed.
"Martha can talk to whoever she wants." He said.
"Is that so?" Charlotte stepped closer.
"Yes." Bonnie didn't move, his eyes locked onto hers and in no friendly way. He didn't like her. There was something wrong about her. He remembered a story Martha had told him, about the girls she had gone to school with. This one seemed familiar.
She walked closer until her chest was against his.
"What is is fighter boy?" She asked, her voice was sickly-sweet.
Bonnie began to straighten himself, aware that anyone could walk in and see them.
What happened next was a blur, she pushed herself against him, her lips catching his.
"I'm fucking warning you." He shouted as he pushed her away, wiping his lips.
He heard a small voice behind them. He turned to give the person his full attention. It was Hannah, Martha's maid.
He felt his heart drop to floor of his stomach.
"This isn't what is looks like." He stammered.
"That's not any of my concern." She said, her eyes were troubled.
"Tommy sent me to get you."
Bonnie nodded before turning back to Charlotte.
"If I see you around here again, I'll leave you in the cut."

By the time Charlotte got back to her home in Sparkhill it was dark. She sat in her room, looking at her reflection in the vanity. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, her eyes were a dark brown, her hair was short and curled, her lips were red. But for all her beauty, she was the most unhappy girl for miles. The weight of her past weighed heavy on her shoulders.
At one time, she and Martha had been friends. They had attended a prestigious school together in Sparkhill. They would go drinking in the local pub, talk about their private lives, but in the shallow way that young girls do. The conflict between the pair arose when a young man from Scotland moved to Sparkhill. It was common knowledge that Charlotte was smitten with him, he however was oblivious. He developed an interest in Martha. It was unrequited love, as her heart was elsewhere. They stopped talking after that, both girl's heading in opposite directions.
The rift deepened when Charlotte became pregnant. She didn't want to the child and when Martha offered to accompany her to the doctor, she was praised by the other schoolgirls for her good nature. Charlotte hated it, she started to live in Martha's shadow. After her abortion, she decided to pursue the Scottish boy again. She was desperate, he knew that and gave her the cold shoulder. After every rejection, she could hear Martha's name being screamed as the reason why. She hated her.
The accident, or so it was hastily covered up as, happened months later. Martha came to check in on Charlotte. She never found out what the Gypsy wanted to say. As soon as Martha was inside, she fell into a trap made by Charlotte and some of the other girls she had recruited. She jumped on her with a pair of scissors from her vanity set.
Any of Martha's screams were drowned out by the other girls merrymaking. Charlotte had intended to carve Martha to pieces but was forced to stop when the gore got to the other girls who went to get help.
The memory brought a frown to Charlottes porcelain features. She could have finished Martha Shelby there are then. But this time, the Gypsy Princess would have nowhere to run.

Martha settled into a routine while in London. She would have breakfast with Alfie and Ollie before accompanying them to the distillery where she would do their paperwork. She noticed that Alfie seemed to enjoy having her around. They never spoke but the silence wasn't an unpleasant one.
She told Ollie that she wanted to go home for a while. He understood. Alfie was less understanding.
"You fucking what?" He asked, finally lifting his eyes from the paperwork.
"I want to see my family again. It's been months." Martha replied.
"Hmm. Yeah. What I don't understand is why you'd want to see that crowd of wops."
Martha had to smile.
"Because they're my family, Alfie."
He softened at that, he would never admit it but he liked her smile. Her preferred being the cause of that smile.
"Well hurry back then." He said, his voice staying causal.
"Aw, I knew you'd understand." She smiled before pulling squeezing Ollie's hand and leaving the office.
She didn't hear the short exchange afterwords.
"She's magical." Ollie smiled as he watched her leave.
"That's a fucking understatement, mate."

Her heart was in her mouth as she stepped off the train later that day. Polly was waiting for her alongside Bonnie.
She walked with a spring in her step toward them, a smile almost painted on her face.
"Well, if it isn't the Gypsy princess." Polly smiled as she wrapped her arms around Martha.
"I've missed you, Pol." Martha grinned.
She whispered quiet affections to Bonnie as he wrapped his arms around her. His face was buried in the crook of her neck.

The walk back to Watery Lane seemed to take years. Martha's small hand was engulfed in Bonnie's as Polly tried to hide her smile. Young love was beautiful, she didn't want to say anything that might break the two of them out of their trance.
A neighbor shouted her greetings to Martha who waved happily. She participated in light conversation before halting abruptly, her face turning pale.
"Martha-?" Bonnie started, placing his hand on the small of her back.
Polly stopped dead in her tracks.
"Martha, what is is?" She asked.
The girl couldn't move. Her eyes were wide.
Both Polly and Bonnie followed her gaze to the young girl up the street in the white coat. Her outfit mirrored Martha's. Their hair was styled the same, their red dress was identical.
Bonnie felt sick.
"It's her Polly." Martha began. She was disoriented.
"We're going to go inside now."
"No, Polly. It's her. She knows where we are."
"Martha, listen to Polly. We're going inside."
Bonnie had to walk in front of Martha to block the sight of Charlotte.
As Polly went to close the front door, she saw Charlotte across the street. It looked like she was looking for something in her bag before a content look came over her face. And finally, she held what is was she had been looking for up for the while street to see. A shining pair of brass scissors.