I woke to the sound of pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen below.

A small strip of sunlight travelled across the ceiling as I rolled onto my bag and pressed my hands to my face, realising I hadn't put my arm back in the sling after the morning's cooking attempts. I rubbed my knuckles against my eyes to try and wake myself up a little as the noises from the kitchen got a little louder. Esther had disappeared from the room and the blanket had been draped over my body. Sitting up, I ran my hands over my hair and felt all the loose strands and missing hairpins that had fallen out during the night. I collected the pins in my hand and stood up, crossing the room to the mirror where I removed the rest of the pins and ran the brush through my hair. I quickly tied it in a knot and pinned it in place before leaving the room and entering the kitchen.

Miss Jenkins stood with her face over the stove, her hands stirring the contents of a large pot rather vigorously whilst Esther draped a towel over a rack in front of the brazier. She smiled at me as I stood in the doorway and watched. A single sunbeam travelled through the small window and lit up the doorway.

"I would say good morning, but it's almost noon," Miss Jenkins said as she looked up from the pot and caught me standing in the doorway.

"Noon? Why didn't anyone wake me?"

"From what Master Robert said, you needed the sleep. Were you awake all night?"

"I needed some time to think

"Alright, well, Doctor Ealing has already left for the office so you'll be doing some chores around the house, if we can find something for you to do." She looked down at my arm, still hanging out of the sling. "Sit down, I'll make you something to eat."

Pulling out one of the chairs, I took a seat at the table and slipped my arm back into the sling. After spending the night with it out, I had some doubts that the sling would do what it was supposed to be doing, my arm seemed to spend more time out of it then in it. Miss Jenkins said nothing about the breakfast I had left out and instead started to make me a little something to eat. After a few minutes, she pushed a plate of cheese, tomatoes and a slice of bread towards me. She returned her attention to the pot on the stove as I tucked into the cheese and tomatoes. On the draining board sat the egg cups and plate from earlier that morning, Miss Jenkins had eaten them but decided to say nothing on the matter, not that I blamed her.

When I finished eating, Miss Jenkins sent up to Matilda's room to do some dusting seeing as I could do that with one hand. Matilda was nowhere to be found as I nudged her door open and slipped inside, duster in hand. Her desk had returned to its usual state of disrepair, but with only one hand I could nothing about it. Instead, I dusted around the objects on the desk and hoped she wouldn't notice that I hadn't moved any of them when I cleaned. I hoped Doctor Ealing was wrong about the fractured shoulder blade and broken collar bone if he were it would stop me from doing anything other than dust. I didn't want to spend several weeks dusting.

I moved across the room to her bedside table, swiping the cloth across the table and the small candle holder. The table wobbled slightly as I leant across it to dust the back. As I reached down, I spotted a small glass out the corner of my eye, the glass was empty, but it had no reason to be in Matilda's room. Miss Jenkins had a strict rule about everything being returned to the kitchen after it had been used, Matilda looked as though she was trying to keep it hidden. I reached forward and grabbed the glass, placing it on the bed as I shifted the table back into its usual position.

"I was trying to keep that hidden," Matilda said, pushing the door open and entering the room.

"Hiding it under your bed would have been a better spot," I said, smiling slightly.

"Probably." She shrugged. "What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the week with Father?"

"I didn't go to bed until five this morning, so Miss Jenkins let me sleep in."

"So it was you I heard talking to Charlotte, I did wonder. Why were you up for so long?"

"Thinking, mostly."

"Did something happen yesterday?"

"Something always seems to happen."

"Come on, sit down. You can tell Miss Jenkins my room was in a bit of a mess, it's not as though you would be lying." Matilda took a seat on the bed and patted the space next to her.

Sighing, I took a seat beside Matilda and placed the cloth into my lap, tearing the threads out of the edge. I launched into the story of the previous day's events, telling her everything that had happened with Matthew. Matilda didn't say anything as I spoke, and I reminded with my eyes focusing on the cloth in my hand rather than her reactions. The more I repeated the story, the more I hated myself for seemingly blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Matthew had reacted based on the information he had been given, I should have explained everything to him beforehand, but I didn't. Matthew storming out of the office and seemingly acting as though he would never talk to me again was my fault.

Whilst I spoke, I found myself pulling more and more threads from the cloth until my skirts were covered in small strips of white cotton. Seeing the cotton laid out on my skirt, settled against it, reminded me of the factory, of the chore I had gotten to used to over seven years. I didn't want to think about the factory, Doctor Ealing told me I needed to avoid it at all costs if I wanted to move on. Yet moving on felt like an impossible task, I couldn't just forget that part of my life. What had happened in the factory had led me to that point, to sitting on the bed with Matilda and questioning whether I would see my brother again. Everything that had happened in my life had happened because of that place, because of what had happened.

When I stopped speaking, I dropped my hands onto my lap and looked up at Matilda. She stared straight up, all of her attention focusing on a small spot on the wall rather than at me. It didn't look as though she had heard a thing I said but I hoped she had because I didn't feel in the mood to repeat it more than I had to. After a little while, Matilda sighed and turned to face me, placing one knee on the bed and fanning her skirts out around her.

"Why didn't you tell them about the list?" she asked, placing her hands on the lap.

"I didn't think it was important and not something I could just slip into conversation. How was I to know he would take it so badly?"

"I'm not saying this is your fault, but this entire thing would be a struggle for anyone, and I think that's what is happening with your brother. He hasn't seen you in seven years, so everything is a little bit of a shock to him. Just give him some time to calm down, everything is still a little new for him so it'll take a little while to get over."

"This is all new for me as well. Seven months ago, I didn't think I would be here, and I certainly didn't think I would be coming face-to-face with my brothers again after so long. He has no right to think things are difficult." I slumped back against the bed and stared up at the canopy above.

"I think he has every right to feel the way he is feeling, but I agree. This is a lot for anyone to handle. I think you need a holiday." Matilda laid on the bed next to me.

"I doubt that is going to happen, your mother already has it out for me so getting anything longer than an afternoon off, doesn't seem very plausible."

"That's where I come in. Mother said I need to go through my old dresses and get rid of any that don't fit any more or are out of style and I could do with a hand."

"Miss Jenkins won't allow that, I'm already in trouble for not going to bed last night."

"Well it can't hurt to try, it's not as though you have anything else to do today. Not with only one hand anyway."

Matilda pushed herself off the bed and held her hand out for me. Sighing, I took it and she pulled me to my feet, the room lurched as I stood up, but I fought to stay on my feet. Mother always said I would get dizzy if I stood up too fast, so I didn't think too much of it as the room righted itself and Matilda seemed not to have noticed. With Matilda in the lead, I followed her from the room and back down the stairs. Small pieces of cotton clung to my dress as we spilled out into the main hallway and down the stairs towards the kitchen. The cloth I had been using to dust had been shredded but I still twisted it around my fingers, I knew Miss Jenkins wasn't going to happen with what Matilda was suggesting, but I couldn't stop her.

I stood in the doorway whilst Matilda spoke to Miss Jenkins', their voices in hushed whispers I couldn't hear them no matter how much I tried. A low hum, almost like a swarm of bees, filled my eyes so I couldn't hear a thing that was being said except the buzzing. Rubbing my hand against my ears to try and stop the noise, Matilda crossed the room and joined me in the doorway. She grinned and spoke, but her voice was muffled by the humming. Judging from the look on her face, I knew Miss Jenkins had agreed to let me help, though Miss Jenkins didn't look all that pleased with the arrangement. What she had planned for me for the rest of the day remained a mystery, though I had a feeling it had something to do with baking.

The humming noise disappeared as quickly as it arrived whilst Matilda and I returned to her room to start sorting through her dresses. I took a seat at the desk as Matilda started to pull her dresses from the wardrobe and drop them on the bed. Before I knew it, she had covered the entire bed in dresses, and it looked as though it was groaning under the weight of them all.

"This should keep us busy for a while. Whether or not I get rid of any of them will be a whole other story, I like keeping dresses just in case."

"Just in case? So, if you shrink?"

"Exactly." Matilda laughed. "I'm sure some of them will fit you. I know I gave you one to wear for Sunday service, but you could get more than one and just change them weekly."

"One is enough. You, on the other hand, have enough for a small army."

"Good point. Mother said she was going to take some of them to the workhouse, or something like that."

"Then we should get started."

Matilda looked at me and then to the pile of clothes on her bed as though finally realising the task at hand. I pushed myself up from the chair and approached the bed, reaching into the pile and grabbing a light green dress that I had seen Matilda wear quite frequently. Grabbing one of the hangers from the floor, I slipped the dress onto it and placed it into the wardrobe so it could be worn again. I may not have known anything about clothing and what was fashionable and what wasn't, but I knew Matilda and I knew what she wore a lot and what she didn't. It happened to be that knowledge that made the organising process a little easier.

The two of us ploughed through the mountain of clothes quicker than I thought we would have. Matilda found great joy in digging out old dresses she hadn't worn in years and frolicking around the room and holding the dress up to her neck. Eventually, she would decide that she didn't need the dress and throw it into the pile to be given away. I think she was just trying to spend as much time going through the dresses as possible so she wouldn't have to do anything else, not that she ever seemed to have anything to do. I never realised how many dresses she had until I had seen them all in one place, out of the all of them I had seen her were about half.

After several hours, we had sorted through the pile and the clothes she had decided to keep were hung up in her wardrobe whilst the others were in a pile in the corner of the room. Matilda hung the last dress up and I pressed the palm of my hand against each of my eyes and rubbed them slightly, the lack of sleep from the night before finally catching up with me. A dull throbbing sensation came from my shoulder as I rested against the bed and lightly massaged it with my other hand. Matilda closed the wardrobe door and took a seat beside me, throwing herself back against the mattress.

"That was an adventure. Did it take your mind off everything?"

"It did, thank you."

"It was my pleasure besides, this was far more entertaining then dusting. Are you still saving your money to have a dress made?"

"Yes, it's going to take ages until I have enough."

"You'll get there eventually."

"Hm, we'll see. Then again, James is a tailor, maybe he could help."

"That's not a bad idea, you'll have to ask him."

"Not yet, I've already scared Matthew off."

"Alright fine."

"I should get back to the kitchen, I expect there is something Miss Jenkins wants me to do."

"Very well, thank you for your help."

"You're welcome."

Leaving Matilda, who remained laid across the bed staring up at the canopy, I left the room and started down the stairs and to the main hallway. As I climbed the last step, the rustle of paper pulled my attention to the drawing-room just as Mrs Ealing emerged from the doorway and stepped into the sunbeam that travelled through the top of the door. She almost looked as though she was glowing as she balled up a sheet of paper and caught me staring at her from the other side of the hall. Her eyes narrowed and seemed to focus on the sling that covered my right arm.

Mrs Ealing and I were locked in a stare-off, neither one of us wanting to be the first to break eye contact, but we couldn't stand around in the hallway all day. After a few seconds, I looked away and darted across the hallway to the kitchen steps and disappeared down them. I paused halfway down the stairs and leant my back against the wall as the dark stairs started to spin, the humming in my ears returning as I squeezed my eyes shut several times to try and stop the room from spinning and after several attempts, the stairwell came to a stop and the buzzing in my ears stopped.

I shook my head as though trying to shake off the feeling of fogginess that had started to set in before running my hand over my face and climbing down the rest of the stairs to the kitchen. The familiar sound of pots and pans banging together filled the small hallway outside the kitchen as I made my way down and stood in the doorway. Esther had already finished her afternoon chores and was sitting at the table with a plate of pie and potatoes in front of her. She looked up as I accidentally knocked into a glass bottle on the floor, sending it rolling across the ground.

"You're just in time." She gestured to the seat next to her. "How was sorting through Matilda's dresses?"

"Not bad, I never knew she had so many," I said, laughing slightly as I took a seat.

"I had to help her go through them not long after I came to work here, and she refused to get rid of any of them. I hope you had better luck."

"There were a few she was getting rid of when I left, though she might have snuck them back into her wardrobe after I left."

"Sounds like something she would do."

Miss Jenkins pushed a plate towards me, and I seized the fork, stabbing it into the mash potatoes and placing a forkful in my mouth. Mash potatoes had become one of my favourite foods after leaving the factory, that and cheese, given have the opportunity I would have them for every meal, but Miss Jenkins wouldn't let me. She said that I couldn't live off cheese and mash potatoes, but I had lived off cold porridge and watered soup for seven years and it had never harmed me. I think she just said that to stop me from complaining, still, she often made mash potatoes to go alongside our other meals like the pie. It was a good compromise seeing as I was a big fan of pie.

As I ate, my stomach started to twist itself into knots and the food on the plate became less and less appetising. I poked my fork at the pie before placing it down on the plate, wiping the back of my hand across my forehead. Miss Jenkins watched me from the other side of the table, her eyebrows were furrowed as I slumped back against the chair and glanced down at my sling, fiddling with the frayed edges of the torn fabric.

"Are you feeling alright, Rosie? You've gone very pale," Miss Jenkins said.

"I'm fine, we've been over this before, I'm always pale."

"Hm, you're almost as white as a sheet of paper and you have barely eaten anything, neither of which are a good sign."

"I'm fine, honestly," I lied. I knew I wasn't fine, but I didn't want to admit that. Miss Jenkins looked at me and pushed her chair back, the legs scraping against the floor. She walked the short distance around the table and placed a cold hand to my forehead. "You're burning up."

"The kitchen's warm."

"I'm not falling for it, Rosie. Go on, up to bed. Maybe a goodnight's sleep will help."

"I can't argue my way out of this, can I?"

"No. Bed."

Pushing my plate across the table, I stood up and left the kitchen, the room tilting slightly as I went. I climbed the stairs slower than usual and stripped out of my work uniform and into my nightdress. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

~~~

A/N - And we are back! I have just started chapter Twenty-Three so as I keep saying, updates will continue!!! I've officially moved back to uni and I start back in two weeks so I plan on getting as far ahead as I can so my Uni work won't take up too much time.

Also, TFG AND TSG ARE GETTING NEW COVERS!!! Whilst trying to decide on a title for the third book I realised the current covers may present issues with copyright so I'm getting some more made.

To the questions!

What do you think of Matilda trying to help Rosie? Will it work in the long run and does she need a holiday? What about the ending? Is Rosie sick this time or is it another close-call?

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to CatC171 who has an amazing book called 'Inverted' that you should all go and read! Go on, do it!

First Published - September 10th, 2019