The Perfect Necklace (An origional story)

Tom, is a 15 year old boy, who lives in the busy town of London England. He has fallen in love with the girl of his dreams.
The olny probelm is, she is of a far more higher status, and she is Lady Emily, daughter of Lord William, and Lady Catherine. And, her compared to poor Tom is by far more. But Tom is in love, and he would do anything for the Lady Emily's delicate hand.

For Quibblo's Story Contest Eight! :D
Please comment and rate! And of course, my favorite, fave this story! :D

Chapter 1

A Bulstery Day

by: 68687
Tom wrapped his shabby forest green scarf around his face tighter. The cold wind from the north pushed back his light brown hair. Tom ran when he saw his destination, his broken soles of his boots clacking against the cobblestones.

The jewelry store's polished sing moved with the wind, and the golden lettering painted on it twinkled in the midst of the now light snow which fell from the stormy grey skies.

Tom entered the shop, and he looked very out of place, with his dirty nose, and old clothing. The stores jewels glimmered, and the store itself had a warm look about it. Even though not many people could afford its products, it looked lived in.

"And what can I help you with today my boy?" The old shop keeper asked. Behind his small glass spectacles, he had wrinkled grey eyes, and his shockingly white hair stood out in midst of the gold’s and silvers and beautiful reds.

"Um, sir, I have the money for the necklace I was looking at," Tom replied, pulling out of his pockets the notes which Tom had collected and saved for the past three months. He finally had enough. The old shop keeper smiled, and went to the back.
This certain shop keeper was named Mr. Hastings, and he had a kind heart. Mr. Hastings kept the necklace which Tom wanted for his lover in the back of the shop, in a fine red velvet case. Mr. Hastings came out with the necklace, and Tom exchanged the money for it.

"Take good care of it." Mr. Hastings said, enclosing the little velvet box in Tom's palm. Tom nodded, and a small grin appeared in his pale cheeks.

"Thank you sir," Tom said, and exited the store.

Tom tucked his now most valuable possession into his coat inside pocket, and placed his hand into the pocket to ensure it does not fall out. He raced home, and by the time he got to the shabbier part of London, he was sweating despite the cold outside.

"I see you've arrived," His mother said. Tom's mother was named Angela, and everyone said that Tom looked like a much younger and boy version of her. The same light brown hair with a slight curl, bright sky blue eyes, pale skin, and slightly pointed nose. They had the same round chin, and also the same wrinkles which appeared whenever they smiled or laugh. Tom and his mother had the same smile, and straight teeth, and also the same slightly big ears, and the visible cheekbones. But one thing Tom had from his father was the same eye shape, and laugh, which sounded like a Ehehehehe.

"Yes, how's Charlie?" Tom asked. Tom's eight year old brother Charlie was quite sick with a hacking cough.

"He's gotten a bit better," Angela responded, jerking her thumb to the upstairs part of the little house. Tom walked up the creaky stairs, and avoided the one step which had no plank of wood to stand on, so you would have to jump to get to the next stair.

A loud cough could be heard from the boy’s room. Tom had three other brothers, Charlie, the youngest, and there was Peter who was twelve and then there was Philip, who was just fifteen, but out and about in the country trying to help farmers so he could send money home. When the boy’s mother asked about who would go to the country to send money home, Tom volunteered being the oldest, but Angela said no, seeing as he would have to help her at home and get a job in London.
So far all Tom had gotten was a job at the big factory which made metal products. The hours were long, and the money was not the best, but Tom had a job and he got money, which was the reason he was there.

"How are you feeling Charlie?" Tom asked, sitting beside the bed.
Tom had to share his bed with Charlie and Peter, and he used to also have to share the bed with Philip, but Philip was in the country so there were just three boys having to share one bed. Their mother slept downstairs, underneath the stairs which had enough space for a little rope to hang clothes on, and a bed.

"A bit better Tommy," Charlie said, and then coughed into his arm. "But I've been better."

"That’s good, d'you want any tea?" Tom asked taking of his coat and putting it on top of his brother’s thing sheets.

"Tea sounds fine, Tommy." Charlie said, letting out another hacking cough.

Tom walked down the stairs, and avoided the broken step, and smoothed back his messy hair. He didn't like it in his face too much, and he didn't like how the back stuck out a bit. Tom put on the kettle, and looked outside the window, waiting for the tea to be ready.

As Tom looked out the window, he saw his beloved. The Lady Emily was riding in a fine white carriage, right past his house. Tom scrambled outside, not caring that he was not wearing a coat and ignoring the fact that it felt like minus twenty-four (Although in reality it was only minus 7).

The Lady Emily looked out her window, and stared out at Tom, their eyes having their first ever contact.


Tom had been watching the Lady for quite some while, and he had a crush from afar. And this one satisfactory moment of making eye contact made his heart fill with joy.

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