When Doctor Ealing left, I resumed my painting and in between dealing with customers, I had been able to finish it. It was a stretch from the depictions of the factory I usually painted and instead ended up resembling the river that ran by the Ealing's house. Even in my artwork, I couldn't escape them. I hung the canvas up on a small strip of wall that jutted out beside James' office door and a row of shelves. The plan had been to cover the wall with small canvas', but I had been too busy with everything else that I hadn't painted them. Now the organisation had been finished, I could do the artwork.

James and Kitty returned that afternoon carrying one bolt of fabric each, but I didn't tell either of them about the conversation I had had with Doctor Ealing. Instead, I told them he had been in to collect cotton scraps and it may be something he would be interested in purchasing from us in the future. Even knowing that Doctor Ealing had been here when he hadn't been caused James' eye to twitch if I had told him we had spoken he would have smashed something. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, not yet anyway.

I knew he wanted to talk about, but I wouldn't let him get close. Every time he looked as though he would bring up Doctor Ealing, I managed to change the subject to something else entirely. Avoiding the topic wouldn't make it go away, it made my life a little easier as I didn't have to answer any awkward questions and could just put the bolts of fabric away without having to worry. I planned on telling him eventually, but only when his attitude towards the Ealing's had calmed down. It was Mrs Ealing he needed to direct his anger towards, not Doctor Ealing.

"There was no trouble at all today?" James asked as he handed me on the new bolts of fabric.

"None at all. There were a few people in looking for ribbons and thread to mend holes in socks, but nothing much beyond that. I don't know why you sound so worried, this isn't the first time I've been here on my own," I said.

"Hm, that was before your old employers decided to grace us with their presences. If I could get out of their order, I would."

"They wouldn't do anything, not here."

"You don't know that."

"James," Kitty warned, "I think Rosie knows them better than you do. Besides, it's a lot of work and we will always need the money to keep this place in stock, fabric isn't cheap."

"I know, I know," He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm just not a fan of how Mrs Ealing conducted herself. I don't condone gossip and the way she made her announcement was just disrespectful."

"We don't disagree with you, but you have to reign your frustration in a little. After the bead order is fulfilled and the outfits are done, you will never have to see them again. It will only be for a little while." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"You're right. Once I'm finished, we'll never have to see them again."

James ran a hand through his hair and walked to the other side of the room to take a sip from his tea. I glanced at Kitty who shook her head slightly and went to join him. From my side of the room, I watched them engage in a hushed conversation, Kitty muttering things to James whilst he nodded his head on occasion though he didn't say much in reply. Kitty had been the only one able to rouse James from his anger. It always seemed to overcome him more than it should have but a few words from Kitty and he would be back to his old self as if nothing had happened. Marrying Kitty had been one of the best things he could have done.

With James talked out his mood by Kitty, we placed the last bolt of cloth onto the shelf and I went to amend the inventory list whilst the two of them talked about James' idea for the Ealing's. It seemed as though Miss Ealing wanted the finest of details and embellishments for a seemingly ordinary dinner party. I knew James wanted to question it, but he would never do so to her face. Instead, he intended to stick to the request in order to get rid of her. He hoped she would return to her other tailor when he returned from India.

I stepped into the office and partially closed the door behind me. The inventory book had been tucked away on a shelf the day before, so I fished it out and laid it flat on the desk. I could still hear the hum of conversation from the other room as I grabbed a pen and noted down the two new fabrics and where we had placed them on the shelf. The inventory book had been my favourite part of organising the office, even James could understand it if he had chosen to. Since he hadn't, it had been my job to check it. It made me feel useful like I wasn't getting under everyone's feet.

When I had first moved in with James and Kitty, he had suggested the idea of going to work with him simply so he could keep an eye on me. The re-organisation had been something to keep my mind busy, so I didn't go back to thinking about the Ealing's or the factory. Now that my job was done, I didn't quite see the purpose of staying if I had nothing to do. The only chore I could do would be the inventory list and that didn't need to be completed every day of the week. Due to his desire to keep an eye on everything I did, James had left me with nothing to do but wander around in hopes of something coming up.

"You have to keep your head the next time the Ealing's are here, I saw your reaction when Rosie told you Doctor Ealing had been here. You look as though you were about to punch a wall." Kitty's voice carried through the crack in the door.

"I know. I just hate how they think they can waltz in here after everything they did, make astounding comments that have no relevance all to get a rise or reaction. They did enough damage in the six months she was working for them, I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of doing it again."

"That may be the case, but you won't be making things better by getting angry or frustrated."

"You heard what Doctor Lucas had to say when he looked at Rosie's knee. He made it clear that she hadn't walked into a table like she said, but been struck with an object hard enough to bruise. We both know it had to have been someone in that house and she won't tell us who. That could have just been one instant, there are months unaccounted for."

"Whatever may have happened, and we cannot make assumptions without proof, Rosie is back with her family and you have to put that resentment aside. If anyone has a right to be upset about the Ealing's, it's her. Yet I don't see Rosie complaining. She dealt with Doctor Ealing very well today whereas you probably would have punched him. If your fourteen-year-old sister can keep her feelings in check, you can too."

"I don't think she does, keep her feelings in check, that is. You hear her walking around at three in the morning."

"Hm, but we can't force her to talk to us and I doubt she will talk if you keep losing your head. If you want her to open up, as she did with Christopher yesterday, then you have to stop looking as though you are going to punch Doctor Ealing."

"I suppose I'll have to try."

Kitty made a sound in agreement and the two of them fell silent. I sat at the desk, pencil in hand, and tried not to make a sound so as not to alert them that I had heard their entire conversation through the door. They had always been so cautious about what they said when I was in the vicinity, but the idea appeared to have gone out of the window as they thought the door had been closed. I hated to hear what other discussions they had pertaining to my time at the Ealing's and the midnight wandering's I had frequently started to partake in. It looked as though I had become a topic of conversation between them.

I dropped the pencil onto the desk and slumped back in the chair, pressing the palms of my hands against my eyes and letting them drop to my lap. I glanced down to my right hand and the glove that covered the majority of the burn on my hand. When I left the Ealing's, I asked James to make me something to cover the burn so people wouldn't stare at it as openly as they did before. He created a pair of gloves that covered the burn but left my fingers free so I could still hold a pen or pencil. The burn had been covered, but it had been the cause of all of my problems.

That fire started by the foreman all those months ago had led to my dismissal, to my first meeting with the Ealing's and every single event that had come afterwards. If the foreman hadn't lit the fire in the storeroom, I never would have met Robert that day and I wouldn't have to listen to my own brother threaten someone over something he had no control over. The other scars I could hide, act as though they didn't exist, but the burn had marked me, and everyone knew who I was and where I had been.

Although I didn't like what they had been saying, Kitty had been right about one thing, my emotions were far from controlled. I would wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare involving either the foreman or Mrs Ealing, I would be drenched in sweat and tangled up in my blanket. It was then I would make my way to the art room and try and paint what I had seen onto the canvas. After overhearing the conversation, I knew I had been right to keep them from James. Had he seen the real reason why I walked about a night he would have gone on a rampage.

From my position in the office, I heard the bell above the door go and quickly got up from the desk. I put the inventory book back on the shelf and stepped through the door, coming face-to-face with Doctor Ealing for the second time that day.

"Ah, there she is! I expect Rosie has told you I stopped by earlier?" he said.

"She mentioned it," James said stiffly.

"Well, seeing as you weren't here to discuss the idea, I thought I would come back before I go home. Rosie suggested that we may have any spare cotton you have for our bandages, but I wanted to check with you that it was alright."

"Perfectly fine with me. We have an abundance of white cotton since it is so cheap to buy but it hardly gets used. You are more than free to buy it or simply take the few scraps we accumulate, it's up to you. We have a couple of bolts here and one back at the house, I think."

"That would be great, we have a supplier, but you are far closer and if we have a bad day then being close to the source would be a great help."

"Pop in whenever you're running low and we can work out a price based on the amount you buy."

The comments Kitty made appeared to have gotten through to James as he only looked a little like he wanted to strangle Doctor Ealing. She stood to the side of him, watching out of the corner of her eye so she could step in if the situation looked as though it would spiral out of control. When I had mentioned the conversation with James, he appeared less than impressed with the idea of selling the cotton, even the scraps to Doctor Ealing. No amount of assurance of the extra money could rouse him from his firm belief that it should never happen. Yet he was, teetering on the edge of shaking hands with Doctor Ealing all because of a few words from Kitty.

Robert had hung back from his father like before and instead lingered near the doorway and attempting to make as little eye contact with James as possible. His sleeves had been rolled up his elbows and he had made no attempt to pull them back to their usual position. There was a small scar on the back of his hand and another, more recently healed, one a little further up his arm. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, and he quickly pulled his sleeves down when he caught me staring at the scars. They hadn't been there a month ago and he had never been the clumsy type.

I glanced towards James to make sure he hadn't caught be looking at Robert just before the bell above the door went for a second time and Christopher lumbered in with a rather large object covered by a sheet. He fought with the object to get it through the door and ended up forcing Robert to move from his hiding place into a more open spot so he could set it down. Christopher grinned and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.

"Christopher, can't you see I'm in the middle of a business transaction?" James said, raising an eyebrow though he fought back a smile.

"Ah, my apologise. Christopher Greyson, his brother," Christopher said to Doctor Ealing.

"Doctor Albert Ealing."

"The famous Doctor Ealing who saved my sister's life, I was wondering when we were going to meet in person. I have heard a lot about you."

"Alright, I'm going to ask, what is that?" I said, gesturing to the object still hidden under the sheet.

"This is a gift for you, baby sister."

"It's not my birthday until the twenty-fourth."

"Consider it a gift for a missed birthday, anyone you like."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him but said nothing, I had told all three of them time and time again that they didn't owe me anything despite all the Christmases and birthdays they had missed during my time in the factory. Yet they all seemed intent on getting me something for all seven and no amount of complaining or bargaining could get them to change their minds. Instead, I had been forced to accept it all because they wouldn't listen to me. This would be one of those instances.

Christopher gestured to the object and I made the short distance from my side of the shop to it and pulled the cloth off. Underneath stood a newly built artist easel. I felt even more confused then I had been only moments before. I had an artist easel, it was old and had once belonged to our mother, but it could still be used. Father had deemed it unsellable when he went through the house selling as much as he could to get money for alcohol. James had squirrelled it away in the hopes that I would return one day and put it to use.

"I already have an easel, Mother's old one," I said.

"I know you do but hear me out." He paused. "I had a client in my office earlier who saw the painting you did for the wall above my desk. When I told him my talented baby sister had painted it for me, he wanted to know if you were accepting orders for other paintings. I was thinking that you could use the back room of my office space to set up an art studio where you can sell paintings. Mother's easel can stay at home and you can use this one in the back room."

"Why would someone want a painting from me?"

"This isn't the first time someone has asked about the painting and I've been on the lookout for an easel for a week. It will give you something to do and you don't have to hang around here when you're not needed."

"I think it's a great idea. You can use the money to buy more paints and canvases. Besides, now your reorganising job is complete here, there won't be much for you to do," James added.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and toyed with the idea in my head. Ever since I could remember I had loved to draw and paint, Mother had always told me that one day people would be climbing over each other to buy something I had created. It would get me out from under James' feet and also meant that I wouldn't have to deal with the meetings James would have to arrange with Mrs Ealing. The thought of not being at the shop when she was felt refreshing, but also like I was running from the situation.

From across the room, it was Robert's turn to look at me across the room and it seemed as though he had the same thought I did. If I agreed, I would never have the opportunity to explain myself or talk to him and it also meant Mrs Ealing had won. By turning up at the shop, her intention had been to throw me off and disrupt the somewhat sense of calm that had finally settled over my life. If I went with the idea, the theories she had regarding my feelings for Robert would, in her mind, have been confirmed and she could lord it over everyone that she had been right. I liked the idea, but not at the extent of losing a battle of wit to Mrs Ealing.

"I'll do it, but only after Christmas has passed. James is going to need all the help he can get here, and no one is as well versed with the organisation of this shop then I am. Come January, I'll be all for the idea but not before then."

"Are you sure?" James asked. He raised an eyebrow as though sending me a secret message that it would be the best option.

"Yes. Unless you want to tell me you looked over the notes I gave you on where everything begins?"

"I have not."

"Exactly my point."

"I think I can arrange that. I'll let my client know," Christopher said. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, pleased with himself for making a suggestion I agreed with.

"I'm not helping you get that home or back to your office, though. You can do that yourself."

~~~

A/N - We are back! I'm working on Chapter Thirteen as we speak so I'm still ahead in my updates. Uni work is intense at the moment but I will keep the updates coming so TAG won't suffer. 

Don't forget I currently have two other WIP's including a Historical/Paranormal novella called 'Parallel' and a new Historical Fiction called 'Belle'! I would love to know what you guys think of them!

Anyway, thoughts on the chapter? Is James right to get annoyed at the Ealings? What abour Christopher's plan? And how did Robert get those scars?

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to andchow who left a lovely message on my wall! It meant a lot :)

First Published - February 18th, 2020