London was not what she expected it to be at all. It was beginning to get dark by the time they arrived and a thick mist had descended. “I’ve not seen anything like this since I lived near the marshes back home…” Kathleen muttered.
“Apparently London is notorious for thick fog, it’s a mist mixed with chimney smoke.” He coughed. “It’s going to make it all the harder to find our way.”
Two young men dressed in breeches, jackets and flat caps made their way towards them.
“Carry your trunk to a cab for a shilling, sir!” one of them shouted.
“Tisn’t a bad idea,” Kathleen commented.
Dafydd nodded and dug deep into his pockets and handed the young lad a shilling. The other lad beside him stood there holding his grimy hand out.
Dafydd drew in a breath. “But your friend said only a shilling.”
“A shilling a piece, Guvnor. He carries one end and I carry the other.”
“I’ll end up broke at this rate.” He dug into his trouser pocket again and handed over the shilling to the boy.
The boys made off quickly with the trunk walking at a fast pace with the trunk between them and Dafydd and Kathleen found it hard to keep pace. Then they hit the mist again and had no clue where they were.
“The lads, did you see where they went?” Dafydd asked a man in a bowler hat who just approached them.
“No, I didn’t, sir. Did you just get off the train by any chance?”
“We did, yes indeed,” Kathleen added.
The man shook his head. “It’s the oldest trick in the book. They wait for people’s arrival at the station, offer to carry their bags for a bob or two, then run off with the luggage. You have little chance of catching the urchins in this peasouper of a fog tonight.”
Dafydd stood there open mouthed at the situation.
“My gown, my beautiful green velvet gown…” Kathleen sobbed. “I needed it for my stage audition. Now what will I do?” She looked around in panic but there was no sign of the lads anywhere in the mist…
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