You're Not Sean

London, East End, Regent's Canal.

London's East End was an industrial district and workers' residential area that had formed after the Industrial Revolution. It was also a crowded slum. The streets were narrow, the buildings densely packed, most of them aging structures from the mid-nineteenth century.

In later times, the riverside apartments here might have been praised as historic buildings full of design and character, but to the people of the East End, this was merely where London's poor gathered.

Even with the millennium approaching, the poor were still poor.

Bill Mace's Sandwich Bar was fairly well known in the area because its beer and sandwiches were cheap enough.

Sixteen-year-old Lillian was a waitress at the sandwich bar. In truth, she was still three months shy of sixteen and did not meet England's legal working-age requirement, but the bar's cook was her aunt, and she needed some extra pounds for daily expenses—there was no chance of getting even a pound from her alcoholic father.

"Lillian, take this to room 301 at Park Villa." A tray carrying a sandwich, cream soup, and two strips of bacon was pushed over. Lillian saw her aunt filling a large glass of beer.

After placing the frothing beer on the tray as well, Aunt Susan waved her off. "Go on."

Chewing gum, Lillian reluctantly blew a bubble. Park Villa sounded rather luxurious, but it was actually a hotel that had only recently been renovated—the cheapest kind.

The owner of Park Villa had not yet had time to build a kitchen, so for the time being, they were working with Bill Mace's Sandwich Bar just across the street.

Getting a tip from the guests there was basically a dream.

Lillian picked up the tray, and her lovely sixteen-year-old body turned with a coquettish sway. A customer