'Attached'

By Sylvia Crook

16 and orphaned; Gwen finds herself unexpectedly employed at the local manor. She falls into the life of married Marc Crockton; master of the house. As their erotic love affair unfolds Gwen begins the battle of her life, with a force she cannot control, to stay with the only man she could ever love...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvia Crook
• Release date: Sep 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301598137

Sylvia Crook

My name is Sylvia Crook and I'm incredibly happily married to Martin. We have enjoyed a 28 year love affair and I'm the mother of four children, I've spent much of my life bringing up our two girls and two boys as a full time mother. Once they all became reasonably self sufficient (I know, they never are!) I wrote a children's story which I was in the process of trying to get published when I developed thyroid cancer in 2001. After my recovery I decided a fresh start was needed so I embarked upon a City & Guilds floristry course at the age of 47. I went on to open a florist shop specialising in weddings, with a business partner, which was enjoyable and rewarding but I always wanted to return to my first love; writing. After losing my mother I decided it was time to take time out and fell back into writing as a form of solace. 'Attached' was inspired after spending a night in The Bailhouse; a boutique hotel in the historic city of Lincoln. I hope you enjoy my story.

Book preview

ATTACHED

Published by Sylvia J Crook

Copyright 2012 Sylvia J Crook

Smashwords Edition

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A big thank you to my wonderful husband Martin (who inspired me to write this story) for all his time, help, love and faith in me; and for all his unwavering support in everything I do. I love you

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Also a big thank you and lots of love to my amazing sister Marilyn for giving her time to read and critique this story for me

1856 – Gwendolyn is 16.

A thick yellow fog hung like a dense wet blanket on every building making Gwendolyn stretch out her arm to help guide her around these usually familiar surroundings. The sounds from the streets were muffled and distorted and an eerie silence had descended. Gwendolyn, feeling dizzy and strange, shook her head trying to regain a sense of normality; she didn’t want to pass out here on these godforsaken streets. Her ears strained against the deafening silence creating a painful ache deep within the canal - ‘why couldn’t she shake this feeling of wooziness?’

A familiar sense of foreboding started to consume her and she stopped in her tracks trying hard to get her bearings and regain some composure. Placing her back flat against the cold brick wall she jumped as a rat scurried past her feet, its tiny footsteps amplified by the silence, making it sound larger and more formidable. Her long dark hair lay wet, heavy and stringy, like rats tails around her skinny shoulders freezing her to the bone. An urgency to find a safe place to sleep for the night consumed her as it was getting late and her body ached, longing for much needed rest. With the flat of her hands she inched slowly along the wall, touching each rough brick tentatively until she found an opening and carefully patted around the inside to ensure no other creature had taken refuge there. It was very cramped but thankfully empty and the small confined space offered her shelter for the night; as safe as any she may find. The thick yellow fog served as an invisible door that would make this a good place to rest. Squeezing herself inside the tiny space, Gwendolyn tucked her legs tightly to her chest and carefully unfolded the tatty parcel that she carried everywhere and removed her Mother’s shawl. It was all she had left of her now and she wrapped it around herself welcoming the extra layer.

The cold slabs were unforgiving making a shiver run through her already frozen bones and the dizziness of earlier returned, accompanied by a far away voice she just couldn’t distinguish. A whirlpool sensation began to take control and she started lose focus - 'but what was this?' - A silver thread of light appeared before her eyes but this was the last thing she saw before everything went blank.

Gwendolyn awoke with a start to the sounds of an alley cat’s screams, so shrill it made her blood run cold. Each new day started the same; as she opened her eyes blinking in the daylight she wondered for a moment if this hell hole was just a bad dream but reality was a cruel beast and the hunger and cold made it all too apparent that her life had become a waking nightmare. Being orphaned so suddenly was a bolt from the blue for Gwendolyn; her loving parents dying from cholera within weeks of each other was an enormous shock. She’d never imagined that she would be left all alone to fend for herself in a cruel harsh world where it was dog eat dog, quite literally sometimes. Having no living relatives made her choices limited and the daily struggle to survive was difficult and testing, even for the most hardened of souls.

Gwendolyn's developing womanhood was drawing quite a lot of attention from the male population of late; and all of it was unwelcome. As a little girl she had had always wanted to be tall and slim but instead, she’d inherited her diminutive height from her mother and her body had become quite curvaceous for someone so young. She struggled to hide her now ample bosom and her long dark hair was like a horse’s mane; wild and unruly. Gwendolyn's creamy white skin, that had been flawless, now lacked the healthy colour that had once given way to a rose -like blush brightening her once apple- like cheeks. The sparkle from her brown almond shaped eyes was missing too, leaving behind a dead, lifeless look in its place and the pain of her loss was etched on her face like a map of sadness for all to see. It had been so long since a smile had graced Gwendolyn's lips and she desperately missed the feelings of love and caring she’d known that only a mother’s tenderness and a father's strength could evoke. Oh, how she ached inside for the protection her parents had given to her.

It had become commonplace of late for Gwendolyn to faint from hunger and cold, each time feeling lucky when she came around that she’d escaped the ravages of the low life that called themselves men. Every day brought fresh challenges; scavenging like a dog in the streets, living off scraps of food to stay alive and being reduced to eating rancid meat that even the dogs wouldn’t eat - ' more and more these days she wondered why she even bothered to stay alive at all'? Selling your body to men was an easy option but it wasn’t a road she intended to go down and so far, she had escaped the grabbing, filthy hands of the so called gentry and the dirty gutter snipes that knew no shame. It had been a long six months, each month felt like a year and with each day her youth had been fast forwarded into an adult world she’d never contemplated. A shrill voice from the streets cut through her thoughts and she stopped in her tracks for a moment.

Gwen. Oh lovely Gwen, it’s only a matter of time before you realise that a fuck equals a square meal on these streets hissed Maddy, the local Madame. How many times had she heard that disgusting jibe!

Go fuck yourself! Gwen shouted in an out of character