[Content warning: Reference to child marriage]

It was early in the evening, and Alice was running through the streets and yards and barely watching where she was going. She was crying once again. After father had brought her home from the station, a fight had ensued - that was, father had shouted at her, and had tried to talk sense into her, and Alice had withdrawn into herself more and more, until she had suddenly started crying and had run out once more. She didn't know where she was going. She had nowhere to go after all. 

Alice turned a corner and bumped into someone.

Someone's crate, to be precise. There was the chatter of glass hitting glass from within, though it didn't sound as though anything broke.

"Sorry, ma'am."

A tall man in a tophat and glasses looked down at her and frowned.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Alice fell back and grasped in pain and shock. Her chest and shoulder hurt, and she knew they were going to be bruised from the collision. She looked up and grasped once more. Then she quickly stumbled to her feet, giving the gentleman a fearful look. He looked like he was from far off lands - hardly the first she had seen, since ships from all over the world might stop at Whitby - and a gentleman too, judging by his clothes. "I am, ser. I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't break owt. I'm so very sorry." And please don't shout at me or make me pay for anything or become aggressive. she thought. At least she had forgotten her other troubles for a moment, going into the familiar crawling mode she had been taught to adopt before her betters.

Ropati's brow furrowed in concern, staring down past his crate for his arms were too full to offer a hand.

"They survived the seven seas," he said, smiling in hopes that it showed he meant no harm. "I think they can take a collision or two."

He continued to peer down with concern. There were plenty of things that could put a woman in fear, and she seemed unusually flustered ...

"You're sure you're alright, ma'am?"

Surprisingly she wasn't shouted at. Alice was used to the wealthier inhabitants and visitors to the town seeing her as some lower creature who was in their way. She hadn't expected this man to be so easy about it. Even less to show concern. "Aye ser..." she said, though now that her senses came back, her chest and shoulder started hurting more. She was trembling. Her face was still wet, but the tears had stopped for a moment. She stepped aside so that he could pass and lowered her head. "I am truly sorry." She leaned back against the wall because she felt dizzy and faint all of a sudden.

There was not much help that could be offered to the unwilling. He had learned that much through his life.

Hysterical drunkards aside.

He paused, crouched stiffly but surely to set his crate down, and reached into his pocket. He approached slowly, arm slightly extended in intention with the handkerchief, and then held it out to her at arm's length.

"Here."

Whether or not she took it, Ropati would offer as friendly a smile he could muster in the face of her distress.

"Pat Fa'afili-" he started, then tried to remember the latest misspelling of his name by an innkeep. "Faffly. Pat Faffly."

When Alice had been a child and had felt sick or sad, she had usually been able to restrain herself, until mother would gently place a hand on her back or forehead and ask her if something was wrong, and then, suddenly, the floodgates would open. This act of kindness had quite the same effect. Alice took the handkerchief, but instantly began to cry again, trying to wipe her tears with the piece of cloth in vain. Part of her wanted to shout out at this stranger, this Mr. Faffly, to help her, to rescue her from the trap that had ensnared her. But she knew he couldn't help her. No one could help her now, for there was only one sensible path open to her. She had committed terrible sins, and now she was to pay for them. The girl sniffed as she tried to stop herself from sobbing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Faffly... Alice Ward..." She managed to look up at his face for a moment. "Thank you," she said - weakly, but she meant it.

Alice Ward. The name sounded familiar, but then the names all started to bandy together after enough cities and even more bars.

She looked well-along, and stressed. Miss Ward might not be any of his business, but a child was something to be celebrated!

He raised a finger in gesture for her to wait. Ropati then sunk to the side to set the crate down, opening it up and checking over a wine bottle before holding it out to her.

"It is a time to celebrate, Missus Ward!" he said, hoping to cheer her. "To you and yours."

Alice stared at the bottle with big eyes, then up at the man, then back at the bottle. Apart from that one time, when she had tried to get rid of the child, she had never drank in her life and alcohol had always been presented to her as the source of all vice. But what she was more shocked about was that this stranger would offer her a gift at all. So shocked she was, and yet so desperate for the kindness offered, that she took it, and wrapped her arms around it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She looked up at the stranger and wanted to thank him, but she was unable to speak, her head light and everything around her surreal.

"Alice!" Her father stood at the far end of the alley, looking from his daughter to the stranger. Suddenly Alice fell to the ground.

Ropati looked distinctly uncomfortable at the shouting man. Husband? Father? The line was thin in some towns.

"Do you ..." Ropati started, regretting as soon as he spoke for the words tread out of his mouth before he could fully consider them, "need ... help, Missus Ward?"

And what if she did? The people would always need to drown their sorrows in something, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Missus Ward's concerns were fantastic swimmers indeed.