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This time, when they tried to resume their journey, the men let them pass. However, they remained where they were and watched the women walk down the road.
“We don’t look suspicious, do we?” Hetty whispered. “Why did they stop us?”
“We don’t look suspicious,” Mabel assured her. “They are just stopping everyone.”
“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this,” Hetty chanted quietly as they hurried away.
“Shut up,” Mabel growled. “Just keep walking. Stay calm. Keep quiet. Everything will be alright.”
When they turned out of the end of the road, Hetty took the opportunity to glance behind her. To her consternation the jailers were following them.
“Oh no, they are coming after us. What do we do now?” She glanced worriedly at Mabel, who looked equally as panicked, but neither of them stopped walking.
“We should have gotten out of town yesterday while there were lots of people around to hide in,” Hetty whispered harshly. “Why are they following us? Why us?”
She watched Mabel glance suspiciously at her hair, and sneezed.
“Please don’t do that again,’ Mabel moaned. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Your hair colour is coming through the soot. When you move, a dust cloud settles over you.”
Hetty’s stomach flipped. She had never felt so helpless in all of her life. Not even yesterday, when she had done what she had to protect her husband and brother.
“Keep walking. Just keep walking.”
“Oi!”
“Keep walking,” Hetty whispered and locked arms with Mabel, whose step faltered as the sound of the order behind them.
“Oi! Wait up.”
The women looked at each other, but continued to walk.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” Mabel growled.
They came to a main road that was becoming increasingly busier as the day began in earnest. A large brewers cart rumbled toward them, mere feet away. The sound of footsteps running up behind them made Hetty panic. She grabbed Mabel’s elbow in a firm hold as she studied the road in front of her in search of a way out of danger.
“Come on, run,” she cried suddenly. She didn’t stop to see if Mabel was going to comply. She dragged her friend behind the brewer’s cart, dangerously close to another cart right behind it.
“’Ere, watch out,” the driver cried as Mabel and Hetty dodged in front of his horses, and wove their way around the miller’s cart heading in the opposite direction as they raced down the opposite side of the road.
She glanced at Mabel, who struggled to keep the pace that Hetty had set. It was evident that the spe
ed they were going was far too much for the older woman and, in spite of the fact that everything within her screamed at her to run and keep running as fast as her legs could carry her; she slowed her pace to a fast walk.
“We have to get out of here,” Hetty gasped.
They needed to find somewhere - anywhere - they could hide out for a while until the jailers left the area. She glanced behind them but, to her horror, saw three jailers heading toward them, and three more on the other side of the road.
“This way,” Mabel gasped and hurried down a side alley. “I can remember going this way once before. I was a child mind but, if I am right, this back alley takes us out to the right side of town. We should be able to cut through it, and won’t have to double back and risk passing them again. If we can get to the river, we can find a way down the towpath to the fields. We are at least heading in the right direction.”
Hetty couldn’t argue. She had no idea where they were. If it wasn’t for Mabel, she would be hopelessly lost by now, or sitting in Derby jail awaiting a visit from Meldrew.
Relieved that the older woman was with her, Hetty kept quiet and followed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
