For the first time in as long as I could remember, I had a decent night's sleep.

I did not have any dreams of my foster family or even of Sally and woke up the next more feeling a little more refreshed and a tad hungry. No one came in during the night as far as I am aware of and I must have slept for hours since it was still a little dark when I finally opened my eyes and pushed the blanket off my body. The air outside the bed had a bitter chill to it even though the windows were closed, and I wanted to climb back into bed until it warmed up a little more.

As I laid there staring up at the ceiling, I could not help but wonder if telling William about my foster family had been the right thing to do all along. All these years I had never said a word about it if I could help it, just the occasional comment to Charity but talking about it all somehow made me feel a lot lighter. The weight that had been pressing down on my shoulders all those years had finally been lifted and I could think a little clearer than I had in eight years.

Despite that, it did not make coming to a decision any easier. I had a lot more to think about, even if most thoughts of my foster family had been pushed to the back of my mind. The thing that I could not shake, no matter how much I wanted to, was leaving Charity behind after so many years of it being about the two of us. We were going to go into service together, that had been the plan and I did not want any of that to change. I did not want to leave the orphanage without her.

After a little while, I kicked my blanket off my legs and climbed over the side of the bed, walking over to the window. I opened it a little and a small rush of cold win ran in through the gap. London had started to wake, the lamps extinguished, shop owners starting to open their shops for the day's trade. Those who ran market stalls had already started to set them up for the trading day ahead. London buzzed with early morning excitement.

I changed into my dress from the day before – Mrs Atkinson had given me an old nightgown of hers when we waited for the Doctor. Mrs Atkinson had left me a brush which I ran through my hair and left on top of a small table at the far end of the room before tucking a few loose strands behind my ear. The ends tickled my chin a little and I knew I was due another trim.

The house was silent, and I pushed open the door and crept out into the hallway. The floorboards creaked a little as I walked down the hallway and passed the other rooms, most of their doors closed. I had not had much of an opportunity to explore the Atkinson's house the last time I had been, but it felt odd to have the freedom to move around a little more. From one of the rooms, I could hear the slight murmur of a voice.

"Come on, where are you," William's voice said. I pushed open a door at the far end of the hall to see him lying on his stomach with half of his body hidden by the bed.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Mother wanted me to find our Christmas ornaments and one of them rolled under my bed from its crate. I can't find it," he said.

"It's a little early for decorations isn't it?"

"With Mother, it's never too early." He paused. "Ah-ha!"

William shuffled himself backwards and pushed himself up onto his knees, in his hands he held up a blue, glass ornament from a small string. He grinned and pushed his hair off his forehead, causing it to stick up a little more than usual. After a few seconds, he stood up and dropped the ornament into one of the crates that covered his bedroom floor – I had not noticed them when I first walked in.

"They're not going up today, Mother just wanted me to find them, so we know where they are. They'll probably be up by the end of the week," he said.

"Is Mrs Atkinson fond of Christmas?"

"She loves it. I'm not sure why. I never asked. She is always in charge of decorating and whilst some of our neighbours wait until we at least get close to the twenty-fifth, she insists on everything being decorated by the fifteenth at the latest. The candles on the tree aren't lit until Christmas Eve. That's a very strict rule."

"We never decorate for Christmas.

"Never?" I shook my head. "You'll have to help then. Decorating is always the best part."

"I might be back by then."

"Maybe not." My stomach grumbled. "Let's go get breakfast, I could eat a horse. Or a fair amount of bacon."

William laughed and I followed him from the room and down the hall. We walked back past my room and towards the stairs where the sound of conversation from below travelled up. I followed him down the stairs and into the dining room where the table had already been set for breakfast. Mr Atkinson sat reading the morning paper, a strip of bacon dangling from his fork as he read through the latest news. He did not look up when we entered, too engrossed in his paper to even offer us a greeting.

I slid into a seat across from William and grabbed some bacon, eggs and sausages which I put onto the plate in front of me. An Orphanage breakfast of porridge was nothing compared to the type of food the Atkinsons ate and I knew Charity would love to have something like this had she been given the opportunity. William stuck his comments of being able to eat a fair amount of bacon and piled a hefty amount of it onto his plate. He looked at me and winked before diving into the bacon without so much as a second glance.

Mrs Atkinson appeared into the room not long after. I sat there and slowly started to eat the breakfast, watching William whose hands became a blur as he stuffed as much bacon into his mouth at one time as he could. He occasionally dipped into a pile of eggs he had put on a different plate, but most of his time was dedicated to devouring the bacon. I had never seen someone eat so much so quickly without vomiting but William remained a mystery to me and I expected he would always be one.

We ate in silence with Mr Atkinson slowly picking at his food whilst reading the paper and Mrs Atkinson barely eating a thing but watching her son put enough food away to feed the whole of London twice over. I ate as much of my breakfast as I could stomach, but I had grown accustomed to the plain food from the orphanage that I could not stomach anything too rich, or too much of it. Although I never told the Atkinsons, I had felt a tad unwell after our trip to the restaurant since I was not used to eating it.

"Matron Webster has agreed to allow you to spend the rest of the week with us, she thinks that will be plenty of time for you to follow the Doctor's orders and for whatever may have happened the other day to settle a little," Mrs Atkinson said.

"So, you will be here to decorate for Christmas! I knew it!" William exclaimed, grinning like an idiot.

"It seems so. Your father and I have some errands to run today so you two will have to amuse yourselves, can you manage that?"

"Can we leave the house?"

"As long as you're back before dark and don't cause any-"

"Trouble. I know."

"Good. If you're done with breakfast, you may be excused from the table."

William looked at me and I nodded, pushing my plate away from me and leaving the last scraps of eggs and bacon remaining. I followed William out into the hallway where he grabbed a coat and hat from the stand whilst passing me my shawl. He looked a lot warmer than I did when he added a pair of gloves and a scarf to the mix. Matron did not think we needed winter clothing despite the fact that the inside of the orphanage was usually a lot colder than outside.

Once he had raided the stand and managed to find me one of his mother's scarves and a pair of her gloves, William and I stepped out into the bitter winter air. I pulled my shawl a little tighter around my arms and followed William through the busy London streets. Despite the cold, there were a lot of people moving around looking at the stalls and peering into shop windows. Most of the restaurants and cafes were full of people enjoying warm drinks and trying to avoid the cold.

I used to watch people through the grime-covered windows back at the orphanage, watching the freedom they had and the life I could never have. The idea of being able to go wherever I please sounded like a good one even if people would stare at me because of my hair or the scar. Just having that moment to walk through London without a care in the world was freeing, but I also felt like it was missing something. Charity should have been there; it wasn't the same without her after all we said we would do.

We walked through London, stopping occasionally at the stalls so William could take look at what they had and try to find Christmas presents for his parents. I had no idea where we were going or what we were going to do but he had a mission and I did not intend to distract him from that. I just followed him through the streets until we came across a tailor shop.

Mannequins stood in the window and through the frost-covered glass I could see walls lined with bolts of fabric and people milling around inside. William pushed open the door and a small bell just above it chimed. The people inside were too busy to look up with one working on pinning fabric to a mannequin, one was dealing with costumers and I could just make out a third person stood in an office sorting through a never-ending stack of paper.

"Ah, Master Atkinson. What can we help you with?" the man said. His speech was a tad garbled due to a stack of pins he held between his teeth.

"We were wondering if we can speak to Rosie," William said.

"Not many people come in here looking for my sister, most of the time they want me. How did you know she was here?"

"Doctor Ealing mentioned it yesterday."

"Ah 'course he did. Well, she's in my office going through my paperwork, I'd be lost this time of year without her."

"We'll be quick."

"Go on then."

The man raised his hand into the general direction of his office where the lady was still shuffling through a large stack of paper and putting it into piles. Everyone looked busy and I hated that we were stepping in and getting in the middle of it for no reason. William had not even explained to me what we were doing, he just led me to the shop without a word and now we were in the middle of what looked like a busy day of trading.

William knocked lightly on the door and the woman looked up from the paper. She looked up from the paper and stared between me and William without saying anything but her and William appeared to have an unspoken conversation with each other. I just stood awkwardly in the doorway until one of them said something.

"Why do you look like you're up to no good?" she said.

"Why does everyone think I'm causing trouble? We're just standing in a doorway!"

"You standing in the doorway is a sure sign of trouble, usually you're up to something."

"People always think the worst of me!"

"Maybe because you've already set the precedent," I said.

"Sorry, I don't think we've been introduced."

"Lizzie Hayworth."

"Ah, I should have known. I'm Rosie Ealing, what can I help you with?"

~~~

First Published - December 16th, 2020