midnight smoke

“Psst.. Abi, are yer awake,” Roswell muttered under his breath.  “Abi?”
“I’m now,” a softer voice replied. Followed by the sound of gas and the sound of a match. A small gaslight lit up and Abigail carefully placed a damper over the flame.
“Not so loud, you’d wake the other wetnurses,” she said. Roswell’s gaze flicked to the other beds in the dormitory then back at Abigail.
“You have to see this,” the young priest told her. He hopped closer to her bed and opened his winter coat. Underneath his coat, he wore his underclothing. A simple shirt and linen pants he’d slept in. Light textile. The winter wind blew through it easily.
The same wind haunted the dormitory. Roswell’s bare feet slowly turned blue and numb. He leaned closer to her. Then plucked a pack of cigarettes from the inner pocket.
“Oh,” Abigail breathed. She planted her feet on the ground as well and set on the edge of the bed. Her hand reached for the pack. Hesitated. Abigail looked Roswell over. He nodded.
She then took over the pack and rolled it around between her fingers. “Real leather,” she said. As she examined the cigarette box up close. “Are there smokes inside?”
“Three,” Roswell whispered back. “I wanted to share one with you…”
“Me?” Abigail said. She chuckled in the way only ladies could. With their fingers pressed against their lips and their eyes shining with joy. “Did you steal it?”
“Of caurse oi did.”
“Stealing is forbidden, remember,” she laughed. “From who?” she wanted to know. Abigail leaned closer and shook one cigarette out of the pack.
“Oh oi dunno, de archbishop had sum visitor yesterday. A Krett.”
“Did he talk funny?”
“De Krett? Obviously,” Roswell replied. As he snickered. “He’s a Krett.”
Abigail returned the laughter with a smile of her own. One that bared her teeth. She then looked over her shoulders, frowned, and tapped the stolen cigarette on her knee. “The warden was here a few minutes ago…” Abigail faced Roswell. “I think she won’t return for the night. If you want we can… Sneak outside.”
“Goin’ outside in de middle of the night is forbidden,” Roswell said.
“So are unmarried men in the women's wing,” Abigail bounced back. “And smoking.”
Roswell shrugged his shoulders defeated. He knew when he was beaten. “Foine. It’s foine as long as nobody knows about it roi?”
“Right,” Abigail full heartedly agreed. She picked up her coat and jammed her feet in old snow boots.
Roswell picked the small gaslight lantern off her nightstand and used his hand to darken the light even more. Abigail got out of her bed. She hooked her arm in his.
It was hard to navigate past the many beds unnoticed. Especially with Abigail at his side. Sure, he’d seem to have a knack for the sneaking stuff. But Abigail? She was a farmer’s girl, always had been. Her movements were sluggish and direct. She tiptoed with the grace of a bull.

Still they managed to sneak out. Roswell removed his hand from the lantern as soon as they stepped inside the abandoned hallway just outside the dorm. Allowing the green gaslight to cast long shadows of them on the monastery’s walls.
“What are you going to do next year?” Abigail wanted to know. She let go of the taller boy’s arm. “When I’m serving the city, helping mums squeeze out their babies,” she laughed.
“Oi’m going to be lonely,” Roswell replied lightly. “A 16 year ol’ sourpuss. Mebbe without yer bad influences, Oi’ll turn into a model student.”
“You?” Abigail asked as she couldn’t help but snicker. “Nah, you’d find another pretty girl to smoke with.”
“Another?” Roswell replied with raised brows. “Are yer suggestion’ dat oi think yer pretty?”
“Well you keep staring at me,” Abigail directly replied back. She fluttered her lashes. “With those two different colored eyes of yours.” She pressed her hands gently underneath her chin and curled her lips in a gentle smile. She looked ridiculous. With that oversized coat of hers. Her white nightgown and ghastly scuffed boots. Her blond hair was tangled and pinned in all directions. Abigail's cheeks were flushed from the cold. And yet she persisted.
“Oi don’t stare,” Roswell bit back. Abigail pursed her lips even more.
“Stop it.”
Abigail shrugged, allowing her blond hair to flutter. “You can stop staring now-” She halted her steps by a small door. It leads to a vegetable garden. They both knew that. As they shared a lot of midnight smokes there. “- And help me open this door.”
Together they lifted the beam that functioned as the door’s lock. They placed it aside. Abigail opened the door and closed it once they’d slipped outside.
It was even colder outside. The monastery was built on a small hill, with no trees. Giving the wind free reign. Roswell shivered. Then plucked a match from his coat’s pocket. Abigail had already pricked her cigarette between her lips and crossed her arms impatiently. Roswell lit the match. Then his cigarette before Abigail’s.
Roswell coughed. Then took a huff of smoke. She leaned against him. Her warmth and tobacco were the only comforts in the cold.
“I wish things could stay like this,” Abigail finally confessed. She tapped some of the ash of her tobacco with her finger and let out her breath.
“It can’t,” Roswell reminded her coldly. “Yer gonna do great as a wetnurse. And oi well…”
“You become one of the most important figures in the city,” Abigail bit back. “You just bepitize some babies, murmle some prayers, well I-. Void. I don’t even like babies.” she huffed. “Those bloody little raisins.”
“But I need dose lil bludy raisins to bepitize yer know,” Roswell joked. “Yer get dem out of dose bellies roi into me hands. And oi dunk them in water.”
Abigail glared. But couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine. Fine, that’s a deal.”