Sally continued to watch me.

For the rest of the day, as we started our upstairs chores, she stared at me from across the hallway and follow my every move. She did not mention the confrontation outside, but I knew she wanted to just by how her eyes followed me wherever I moved. Charity stared back. Unlike me, she was not afraid of confrontation and had been in more fights than anyone else. I knew she had been itching to slap Sally and it looked like the opportunity had just fallen into her lap.

I did not understand why something as simple as a potential adoption had to cause so much trouble. Sally would be welcome to the Atkinson's had she spoken to them once since they first arrived. If she had not been so funny about answering the door with a wet apron, I expect they would have been more inclined to adopt her rather than me. I would not try and stop her if she made an attempt to get them to change their minds, in fact, I would have welcomed it.

Still, I doubt the Atkinson's would have changed their minds. They already seemed rather set on adopting me, even if they had given me the choice, I just wished they did not have another child. At the orphanage, we were all equal on the way we were treated and only people like Sally thought they were above everyone else. Adoption and foster placements were different. It would not be uncommon for the children of the parents to assume they were superior because they were related through blood. Most of the time nothing came of it, I had always been unlucky in that case.

When we finished our chores, we retreated downstairs for a stew supper, although I only picked at it rather than ate. Even if I was starving, I would not go anywhere near the stew we were served, no one ever told us what was really in it. Most of us would have gone hungry rather than eat it and many of the bowls ended up remaining half-full when we were excused.

"Why is the meat always so stringy? I'd take cold porridge over this any day," Ethel said. She scoped up a chunk of meat and dropped it into the stew with a slight splash.

"Rat meat," Charity said.

"That's vile." I pulled a face at her.

"Do you ever see any rats around here? No? Think about it." Charity raised an eyebrow at us. I shuddered, poking at the meat and hoping she was wrong.

"I saw a rat in the privy the other morning," Ethel countered.

"It's not there anymore."

"You're disgusting."

"Hayworth! With me."

I pulled my eyes away from Charity who had picked up a chunk of meat on her fork and had started to push it towards Ethel, squeaking slightly. Matron stood behind me, staring straight at me and ignoring the behaviour coming from just beside me. She did not look too happy with me; her mouth had been drawn into a thin line and she had crossed her arms over her chest. I did not know whether to feel alarmed by her or not, her mood was always difficult to determine.

Charity stopped taunting Ethel for a few seconds, just long enough to shove me in the back and force me to my feet. The other girls stopped what they were doing and watched when Matron and I walked past them, Matron refusing to acknowledge them and me knotting my hands together out of fear for what was about to happen. Matron summoning anyone to her office was a bad sign, but at night it was even worse.

The halls were drenched in darkness. It seemed to seep out of every corner and made the entire orphanage that much darker than usual. Through the grime-covered glass, I could see the slight flicker of the lamps outside, most of them already lit to light the way for those who liked to move around in the shadows. I almost felt like one of those people as Matron led me up the stairs to her office. Some of the candelabras on the walls had been lit to offer us a little bit of light, even that struggled to break through the gloom.

Matron swung open the door to her office and stepped inside. The light from the roaring fireplace illuminated the entire room and I was enveloped in hot air the moment she had opened the door. Much to my surprise, her office was not empty. Sat behind her desk, were Mr and Mrs Atkinson, both of them appearing to have shed the extra layers of clothing they no doubt arrived with to battle the cold outside.

They both turned to face me, offering a small smile. Matron closed the door behind me and walked back around her desk, taking a seat on the opposite side and forcing me to stand in the corner and make the room look untidy. I pressed my hands together behind my back to try and stop the shaking, whatever reason Matron had called me to her office, it would not be a good thing. It never was.

"The Atkinson's would like a word with you, Lizzie," Matron said.

Mrs Atkinson turned to face me, and I fought the urge to furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I thought I would be in trouble for something, this did not feel like a standard telling off.

"We have come to ask you a question, Lizzie and Matron Webster has given us the go-ahead if this is something you would like to do. I know this is extremely short notice and we understand if you say no, but we were wondering if-"

"-If you would like to spend the night at our house," Mr Atkinson finished.

"T-tonight?" I asked, unsure about what to do.

"Yes, tonight. I know we planned on introducing you to William first, but this would be eliminating two potential meetings at once. You can meet William and discover what a night with us would really be like. Matron thinks it is the best option," Mrs Atkinson said.

"I suppose it might work."

"Excellent. Go and change out of that, it's covered in soot. Gather your nightdress and anything else you might need then meet us in the entranceway. You have five minutes."

"Yes, Matron."

I turned and walked out the door, closing it tightly behind me and standing in the darkened hallway. All this time, I had thought my meeting with their son would be a simple introduction where I could gauge his motives and would not have to spend more than a few hours with him. This was not what I had in mind and I did not doubt Matron knew that. Whether she had a plan or not, I did not know but I hated the idea that I had just been ambushed hours after my conversation with Charity about making my own mind up.

With my time running out, I walked the short distance down the hall to the dormitory, pushing open the door and ignoring the stares from the other girls. Grabbing my Sunday best from my trunk, I quickly pull it on and pull my bonnet off, throwing it onto the bed. Charity watches me grab my shawl and wrap it around my arms before digging my fraying nightdress out from under my pillow.

Charity looked at me and threw her nightdress onto her bed, a small button hitting the needle and thread she had been using to mend a hole under her arm.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The Atkinson's want me to spend the night at theirs. I can meet their son at the same time," I said.

"And you agreed?"

"I could hardly say no, Matron was watching me the entire time."

"Just ... Be careful."

"I will. Promise."

I balled my nightdress up and looked at her, trying to quell the shaking in my hands before she noticed and before Mr and Mrs Atkinson could see how scared I really was. Charity offered me a reassuring smile and a slight nod of her head which offered a little help, but the idea still terrified me.

Everyone watched me walk back across the room and open the door, I could feel Sally's eyes on me and knew she wanted to make some sort of comment, but she refrained. She most likely wanted to make a comparison between the Atkinson's and my foster family or a comment on how unfair the whole thing seems when I had been so adamant that adoption would never be for me. Whatever it may have been, she did not say it and instead just watched me walk through the door and back into the darkened hall.

Despite the short distance between the dormitory and the top of the stairs, I took my time. The longer I drew it out, the less time I would have to spend with them and the quicker I could be away from their son before anything happened. Perhaps I was being over-dramatic, scaring myself before I even knew what to expect out of their son, or them for that matter, but past experiences had made me wary of anyone.

The low hum of voices came from the entranceway below and I could hear the occasional creak of a floorboard when someone moved. I knew my five minutes were running out, but still I crept down the hall and stopped at the top of the stairs, my hand resting on the railing. I did not like to eavesdrop if I could help it, it seemed to make people paranoid, but it was better than going down there before I had to.

"Miss Hayworth doesn't mix very well with other children, her foster placement has made it incredibly hard for her to be around others or befriend them," Matron said.

"Does she get into fights?" Mr Atkinson asked. There was a slight edge in his voice, as though expecting to hear the worst.

"Not really, but she does keep her distance. It is best you keep that in mind when you introduce her to your son, she may not be all that forthcoming and open to communication or getting to know him. My experience is that she may never open up entirely."

"This foster family of hers sounds awful. What with the scar on her face and her lack of trust in others? Is there anything else we need to know about her?"

"You know everything that may matter in the future. Other than her fears of small places and dislike for raised voices, that's all you need to know."

"Poor girl."

"Perhaps she will come out of her shell. I cannot say for certain."

They fell silent and I stood at the top of the stairs listening to their breathing and the wind whistling through the gaps around the door. So, Matron had not told them everything. They knew about the scar because I had told them about it when we first met but I doubt Matron expanded on what really happened any more than I did. They went through their first meeting with me without knowing the full truth about my foster family and even after their conversation, they did not know everything.

Mr Atkinson had sounded concerned, alarmed even at the idea of who they might be letting into their home. I had never been a threat to anyone, I had never fought with any of the girls no matter what they may have said to me or about me in the past. If that was all it took to get them to change their minds about me, I would have told them about my foster family when we first met. Then they could have chosen someone else and Sally would not have such an issue with me deciding to meet them.

Still, there was nothing to be done now and I doubt they would suddenly change their mind over the whole thing because it would make them look bad.

With my five minutes almost up, I took a breath and started down the stairs, twisting my nightgown around my hand to try and hide the shaking that only seemed to get worse. Matron looked up when she heard the stairs creak and glared at me, no doubt realising that I was probably listening at the top of the stairs and heard every word of their conversation.

"Ah, Lizzie. Do you have everything?" she asked, looking at the balled-up nightdress in my hand.

"Yes, Matron," I said.

"Excellent. I expect a glowing report on your behaviour tomorrow."

"Yes, Matron."

"Well, I won't keep you. I shall see you all tomorrow."

With that Matron pulled open the door and waved her hand towards it. Mr and Mrs Atkinson stepped through first, waiting for me on the front step. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the cold London air. 

~~~

A/N - Hi! Welcome to Chapter Eight, I hope you enjoy!

First Published - November 20th, 2020