"Finest cut of beef money can buy, that is. An' look, I've still got all me fingers," Tommy said, wiggling his fingers in front of my face.

The early morning sun poked through the clouds that spotted the sky, lighting up the small patch of ground that Tommy's cart possessed. Birds tweeted away high above our heads, their sweet song filling the morning air and allowing for a much better wake-up call than the repetitive ringing of a bell. A bitter chill rushed past us as Esther and I helped to unload the meat order and handed it to Miss Jenkins who hung around the doorway marking off each piece of meat as it was handed over. Tommy stood beside Miss Jenkins, looking at the list over her shoulder though I wasn't entirely sure he could read it.

Every meat delivery day went the same way. Esther and I would unload the meat from the cart whilst Miss Jenkins inspected every single piece to make sure it was of the highest standard. Tommy, however, stood around and watched without so much as lifting a finger to help us carry the heavy produce from one place to another. More often than not, he would make a comment about the different types of meat and whether or not he had almost lost a finger. He had taken to life outside of the factory better than any of us.

Tommy had been in the factory for only three years a stark contrast to my seven years, or Suzanna's twelve. He hadn't witnessed the same things we had, struggled through the years of pain and abuse that felt as though they were never-ending. We had all made it out, but some of our friends weren't so lucky. My best friend Isabel had died just six months before, in a fire that destroyed the factory and allowed for the truth to come spilling out. We were the ones left to pick up the pieces of what had happened, and Tommy had become a helping hand to most of us. He didn't have the memories we did, and I was thankful for that.

"Are you actually going to lift anything?" I asked, flexing the fingers on my left hand out to release the tension that had set in.

"I had to lug this thing all the way here! I've got hand cramp."

"You've got hand cramp?" I lifted up my left arm to show him the burn scar that enveloped my lower arm.

"Fair point."

Tommy grinned at me and seized the largest slab of meat on the cart, the slab both Esther and I were avoiding at all costs. As I watched him struggle under the weight of the meat, I leant against the side of his delivery cart and gently massaged my fingers. Whilst the burn on my left hand was no longer red and prominent against the paleness of my skin, the scar that had been left behind often limited the movement to my hand. Doctor Ealing had suggested a variety of different movements in order to relieve the tension, but these only worked temporarily. Nothing was able to fix the problem long term.

Although six months had passed since the fire that had killed Isabel, and it had been six months since I first started working for Ealing's, the burn became more of a hindrance as time progressed. Grabbing something as simple as a jar became increasingly difficult as the burn healed but Doctor Ealing was adamant that it wouldn't last forever. I had a hard time believing him. It was the one thing from my old life that continued to cause trouble no matter how much I tried to avoid it. It was the one thing that kept pulling me back to the foreman and Mr Thompson and became the thing I could never escape.

"Is everythin' to your satisfaction, Miss J?" Tommy asked, peering over her shoulder at her sheet of paper.

"Hm, seems to be. Just make sure you're on time with your next delivery."

"Will do, Miss J!"

"Very well. Rosie, you should go otherwise you'll be late for Doctor Ealing."

"Right," I said.

Pushing myself off Tommy's cart, I started to untie my apron. As I brushed past Miss Jenkins, I pulled the apron from around my waist and placed it in a pile on the countertop. I tiptoed around the table and towards the sing where I quickly washed the smell of meat from my hands with a bar of carbolic soap before drying them on a towel. With my hands dried, I ran them across the top of my head, smoothing out any loose hairs and tucking small strands behind my ears to make myself look presentable. Working in the house, it didn't matter if strands of hair were out of place because no one would see me. The same thing didn't pass at Doctor Ealing's office. I always had to look pristine.

As I turned to leave the kitchen and head out the back door, I noticed Matilda haunting the doorframe. She paced past the frame as though she were a ghost, drifting from one side of the door to the other as though she was hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Or someone. When she passed by the door for the third time, she glanced into the kitchen and spotted me standing next to the counter. Within seconds of her spotting me, she walked straight past the door and her footsteps echoed up the stairs as she walked away. She was always lurking when we had a meat delivery.

I listened to the sound of Matilda's footsteps until they completely retreated up the stairs and disappeared before running my hands over my skirt and left the kitchen through the backdoor. Walking past Esther, I glanced towards her and grinned offering her a little nod as I headed up the path and towards the front of the house. Behind me, I could hear Tommy packing up his cart and triple checking everything to make sure it was all there. As I rounded the corner and towards the carriage at the front of the house, that sound faded and the sound of the horses waiting to be led away took over.

Robert was already leaning against the side of the carriage as I approached. His arms were folded over his chest and he chewed on the side of his cheek as he watched the front door for any sign of his father. Upon hearing me walking up the path, he pushed himself off the carriage and dropped his arms to his sides, waiting until I was in listening distance before he spoke.

"You're two minutes late," he said jokingly.

"It was a meat delivery, you know what Tommy's like. He spends more time talking than doing the work he's paid to do."

"Sounds familiar." I glared at him. "Joking!"

"Ah, Rosie, you're here! We're running a little behind schedule this morning, but no matter," Doctor Ealing said, closing the front door behind him and jogging down the front steps to join us. Robert turned to me and pulled open the door to the carriage, gesturing me inside.

"Did you see Matilda hanging around when Tommy was there?" Robert asked, clambering in after me.

"Yes, she was hiding behind the door."

"What are you two talking about?"

"Don't you think it's strange, Father, how whenever there is a meat delivery, Matilda is always in or around the kitchen? Whenever Tommy is around, so is she."

"I hadn't really noticed. If that is the case, don't say anything to your mother. She's determined to find Matilda a suitable sweetheart after her engagement with Alexander fell flat and I highly doubt she'll think Tommy to be suitable."

"I don't think either of them has ever said two words to each other," I said.

"Matilda isn't one for talking," Robert said, grinning.

Whilst the conversation lapped into silence, I focused my attention to the world outside the window as it rolled past. Summer had faded, giving way to the start of Autumn with the colours of the trees shifting from vibrant greens to bright reds and oranges. The factory obscured any view of the changing seasons, with nothing but the weather to act as a reminder that the world was moving around us. At any given opportunity, I relished being outside and experiencing one of the things that had been obscured for so long. My rides into London with Doctor Ealing and Robert allowed me to see the change in the greenery weekly.

As we rode towards London, the air became darker and the greener faded away to make way for the London streets and the rows upon rows of buildings. I enjoyed being in London, it allowed me to be closer to Suzanna, Lucy and Mathias whilst also taking me away from the house, but I missed the greenery. For seven years all I had seen was the industrial side of England, the brick buildings and thick smoke that filled the air. The trees and the vast amount of space that surrounded the Ealing property became my favourite place to go on my Sunday afternoons off. I would venture into the trees and sit by the river for hours on end without care, London allowed me to be with my friends, but the Ealing house allowed me to be on my own.

When the carriage eventually came to a stop in front of Doctor Ealing's office, the driver climbed off the seat and swung the door open. Doctor Ealing climbed out of the carriage and waited on the pavement for Robert and me to clambered down and join him. Robert followed his father with me climbing out last, jumping out of the carriage and brushing my skirts off. With the door shut behind me, I followed Doctor Ealing and Robert up the short number of steps and into his office. Closing the door behind me, I left Doctor Ealing and Robert to start their work whilst I retreated to the smaller room at the back of the building to wash the dishes that had accumulated over the week.

The low hum of conversation from the other room filled the small space I was in as I started to wash the dishes. In just a short period of time, Doctor Ealing and Robert had managed to accumulate several mugs, glasses and plates; all of which had stood on the side with no one to clean it. As I started to wash the dishes, I hummed a small tune to myself, a hymn from church where I spent my Sunday morning's alongside Miss Jenkins, Esther and the Ealing family. I hadn't been to church in so long, I didn't even remember any of the hymns, but I found the music peaceful against the constant chaos in my mind.

As I finished the last of the dishes, I listened as the front door closed and the latest patient left the building. Throughout my visits, Doctor Ealing had countless people walking in an out of the office with countless injuries and ailments that required his attention. On days I was not with him, he would do his rounds through the area and approach his most known patients with medicines or bandages as they needed them. I tried as much as possible to avoid any and all interactions with whoever came through the office door, but occasionally Doctor Ealing needed an extra pair of hands I was dragged into helping even though I really didn't want to.

Finishing up the last of the dishes, I dried my hands on a towel and stepped into the other room. Robert was leaning over the desk scribbling on a sheet of paper whilst Doctor Ealing placed an assortment of objects away on the shelf. I stood in the doorway watching them, waiting for my next task. There usually wasn't a lot for me to do after clearing away the dishes so I hung around in the doorway waiting to be told what I had to do next if anything.

"Rosie, would you mind popping over to the bakery and buying us a cream bun? You may get yourself one. I need some sugar, I feel as though today is going to be a busy one," Doctor Ealing said. From his suit jacket, he pulled out his wallet and pulled out several coins that clattered together as he counted them.

"Of course, sir," I said, taking the coins.

"Excellent. I'm starving," Robert added.

"You should have gotten up earlier for your breakfast."

"It's not my fault Mother has decided we must eat breakfast as a family at a ridiculous time in the morning. I need my beauty sleep!"

"A lot of it," I muttered.

Before Robert could react, I tucked the coins into my dress pocket and left the room, jogging down the corridor to the door before slipping out of the building and down the steps. With the coins rattling around in my pocket, I took the road I would usually take towards the bakery, dodging carriages, carts and people as they went about their lives. Some of them glanced back as I passed them, their eyes darting to the burn on my arm as I tried my hardest to keep it hidden from watchful eyes, though it was a difficult thing to do.

After the fire, the newspaper had printed what had happened to both me and Mathias in great detail. Though we were not mentioned by name, our injuries had been and whenever I found myself walking to the bakery, I couldn't help but noticed the countless eyes that were directed towards my left arm and the scar that I had been left with. No one had been brave enough to ask me about it, but I had heard the muttering by others who didn't know what they were talking about. Many assumed we had simply been making it up. That the bunt out machinery left behind was a disciplinary tool rather than anything else. 

They believed the school story. That the giant brick building that now stood empty had been our home, our school and everything in between. They didn't want to believe what had happened on their doorstep, not even when it was announced the foreman and Mr Thompson were to serve lengthy sentences for their crimes. Once the foreman's name was published, no one believed it had operated as a factory because of who his brother was. Of course, Mr Warrington had made himself scarce long before anything had hit the newspaper. He, his wife, and Alexander boarded their boat to India the day after Robert attacked Alexander and no one had heard from them since. Not that I minded too much, I was glad to see the back of them.

Trying to avoid the gazes of many curious people, I held my left arm in front of me and as close to my abdomen as possible whilst I pushed open the door to the bakery and slipped inside. The small bell above the door dinged as I entered, and I smiled towards Jack who stood behind the counter.

"Mornin' Rosie! What'll it be?" He asked.

"Three cream buns, please."

"Comin' righ' up!"

Jack grabbed a sheet of brown paper and laid it down on the counter in front of him as he grabbed the cream buns I had asked for. As he wrapped the paper around them, I noticed the small white specks of flour that dotted his blonde hair. When he glanced up, he wiped the back of his hand across the forehead, smearing a large amount of jam right below his hairline. I stifled a laugh as he wrapped the paper up and handed it over to me. Taking the bag, I dropped the coins into the palm of his hand and waited as he counted them up and handed over the coins he didn't need.

"I added in some penny buns for you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Jus' don' go tellin' Mr Martin tha' I gave 'em to you."

"Your secret is safe with me. Thank you for the cakes."

"You're welcome."

With a small smile in his direction, I gripped the paper tightly in my right hand and left the bakery, leaving the smell of pastries and cakes behind. Visiting the bakery was always a fun venture whenever I joined Doctor Ealing at his office. More often than not he would send me over for some sort of sweet treat depending on what he wanted that day. In the weeks I had spent working in Doctor Ealing's office, I had become good friends with Jack, the baker's apprentice. More often than not, he would slip a few extra cakes of pastries into my bag, against his bosses wishes. I never minded all that much.

Arriving back at Doctor Ealing's office with the cakes tucked under my arm, I thought Robert was going to jump on me when I walked through the door. He stood in the hallway waiting for me and the moment I walked through the door he bounced around like a little child. Keeping the bag at arm's length, I took a small detour into the side room and grabbed a plate from the side before carrying both into the office. I placed the plate onto the table and removed each of the cream cakes individually and laid them out on the plate. It didn't take long for Doctor Ealing to notice.

"Where did the penny buns come from?" He asked, seizing one of the cream buns and biting into it.

"Jack added them," I said.

"Jack seems to have taken a liking to you. He never gave Robert extra cakes."

"That might be because I once through flour in his face." Robert shrugged his shoulders and almost inhaled the entirety of his cream bun in one sitting.

"Why did you throw flour on him?"

"I don't actually remember."

Frowning at Robert, I grabbed my own cake and took a bite, feeling the cream explode in my mouth as I ate it. By the time I had finished one bite, Robert had already eaten his and was moving on to one of the three penny buns on the table. Within a matter of seconds, the penny bun was gone, and I was left wondering whether Robert was able to taste any of the food he almost breathed in. As I finished up the last of my cream bun, I caught Robert watching me out of the corner of his eye, so I made a point of looking directly at him as I put the last of the bun in my mouth and wiped the cream and jam from my lips.

"When you've finished Rosie, would you mind taking an inventory of what we have and what I need more of? I have a feeling I'm running low on bandages," Doctor Ealing said, his eyes scanning over the cupboard.

"Yes, Sir."

"Robert will help you if you need it."

I nodded towards Doctor Ealing and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pencil from the desk before heading over to the storage cabinet. Since Doctor Ealing had arranged for me to spend more time working in his office, my reading and writing skills had improved. They weren't perfect, far from it, but they were better than they had been, and it allowed me to be able to help out more if necessary. Organising files in the office, as well as the house, had gotten easier and Doctor Ealing had allowed me to take books from his library to help. The thing that held me back in my work was becoming easier to conquer, I just wished my arm would do the same.

Whilst Doctor Ealing and Robert did their work, I started on the inventory of supplies. On the sheet of paper, I wrote the number of bandages he had as well as whether he was running low on any of the medicines in his cabinet. It was a simple enough task and one I could do on my own without the aid of anyone else.

As I wrote down the numbers, a loud knocking sound echoed through the room from the front door. It was repetitive and frantic with the sound continuing for several seconds, the pace increasing the longer the door went answered. I glanced up from the cupboard and towards Doctor Ealing who shrugged and left the room to answer the door. Robert dropped his pen to the paper he had been scribbling on and turned to look at me, listening out for what happened the moment Doctor Ealing opened the door.

When the squeak of the door hinge reverberated through the room, the sound of knocking was replaced by the clamour of voices and the door hitting the wall. The collection of voices became impossible to decipher as they grew closer and closer to the office. Doctor Ealing entered first, gesturing towards the chair in the middle of the room. Behind him came three men, one of them being propped up by the other two. The man in the middle had a grey rag wrapped tightly around his right arm, whilst blood ran down his arm towards his elbow and dripped onto the floor. The two men carried him over to the chair and laid him down whilst Doctor Ealing rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

"What happened?" Doctor Ealing asked, slowly unravelling the rag from his arm.

"We were puttin' up a new roof an' someone dropped a hammer. It crushed his fingers," the taller of the two men said.

"Alright. What's his name? I'll need to see if we have any records on him." Doctor Ealing nodded towards Robert who went towards a cabinet on the other side of the room.

"Matthew. Matthew Greyson."

~~~

A/N - And we are back! Honestly, I'm so excited to venture into this new world for Rosie and the others and I hope you guys are ready! Chapters will hopefully fall every Tuesday, just like before. 

What are your thoughts on the first chapter? Why do you think Matilda was hanging around the kitchen? What about Jack, will appear again and why is he sweet on Rosie? More importantly, WHO IS MATTHEW GREYSON?!

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to ALDNoahVampyr who was the first person to comment on the book! 

First Published - May 28th, 2019