Content warning: Substance abuse

It was foolish for a young woman to be this far upstream alone. Alice stood at the river side, holding on to a tree to keep herself up. A cream cotton bag lay some feet away and a glass bottleneck was sticking out. The girl's worn and somewhat oversized clothes distinguished her as one of the working class, the shawl which had fallen down on her shoulders as a fishing girl. Her red-brown hair was tied in a bun, but strings of greasy hair had escaped and she had not cared to smooth them. In fact, she seemed hardly aware of her environment, but looked utterly tormented by some kind of pain. Her face was sickly pale. Suddenly, she bent over and vomited. 

Sometimes, Roderick just wanted to get away. Enjoy nature, pretend to be one of those exciting pedestrian nothings, live a life not crammed to the brink with books, expectations, and so, so many older siblings who had all done it better than he.

Pearl was a bit eccentric, but he was beginning to wonder if she were on to something brilliant...

So, Roderick went for a walk. Sometimes it was to get away from his rowdier brothers. Sometimes it was just to have a nice vomit without anyone wondering. His brow furrowed when he heard an all too familiar sound around the bend.

Someone else had digestive issues, too. Ever intent on being useful for clearly unsolicited advice was just so, Roderick called out in his posh voice:

“Have you tried leeches?”

Alice jumped, lost her balance and fell back, putting her heel into her own sickness, though it barely registered. At least she wore her boots. She looked up at the young man confused. It took a moment for all the impressions to settle in. His way of speaking was unfamiliar to her and his words didn't make sense at first. Was she in trouble now? That was what she was most concerned about. Trouble. She was in trouble. Nobody should find her here.

"Iw'm... sorry." she said. She was anxious and yet the words came out dull and slow. "I don mean to cause no trouble, ser."

“Oh,” he said blithely, used to servants tripping over themselves as the natural order of life. “If you do it in the water, no one will know you were here.”

Practice made perfect, after all.

"Wh- what?" She asked, confounded. She was still sitting where she had fallen, her hands on the mossy ground beside her. Her checked flannel shawl had fallen from her shoulders on to the ground behind her. Alice did not attempt to get up. She felt dizzy and sleepy. The young man's words seemed utterly confusing to her and she found herself wondering if she was dreaming. Her stomach was still hurting a lot, though not as much as before vomiting.

Why was she here again?

"Do what?"

Was he real?

Oh, dear him! Was she going to make him say it? How unbelievably crude the strange, harried working class was!

“You, erm, you know,” he said with a tourist’s delight sympathetic smile and a vague, uncomfortable gesture with his hand.

That didn't make it any clearer to Alice, and she frowned. Suddenly, a sharp pain cut through her abdomen and she grasped and clutched her belly. It felt like she was going to get diarrhea - only it hurt more. At the same time the nausea returned. Alice curled up and squealed a suppressed cry.

Oh no! Was this how they died in the wild? Roderick put a shocked hand to his mouth, but if anything his gaze only intensified.

The pain only intensified, and Alice pressed her abdomen. She let out a wail, but stopped herself and clenched her teeth together. Her drunken state could not numb this pain. She rolled onto her knees, trying to find a position in which she could lessen the pain, but it still hurt. The movement troubled her already upset stomach and Alice leaned forward and vomited again.

Oh no. That smell was starting to drift his way...

Roderick had second thoughts about his Whitby safari, and started to turn on heel.