I stuffed the drawing into my pocket before James could see it and cleaned up the rest of the paper and pencils. Throughout my time away from the Ealing's and even in the build-up to my exit, I never once thought about the twins or how it would affect them. The night I left I wrote three letters to those who my leaving would impact the most and I didn't write one for them. I left them without a goodbye, without so much as telling them where I was going and if they would see me again. Out of everyone, my going would have hurt them more.

Their question wasn't an easy one to answer, how was I to tell a six-year-old that the fault rested with their own mother? That I had been forced out by someone they loved? Would they even understand? Probably not. They were too young to understand any of it so I couldn't tell them the truth even if I wanted to, and I didn't want to. I didn't want to be the one to shatter the perfect image of their family, of their mother. If the twins really wanted to know why I left without saying goodbye, I had no choice but to lie to them.

Lies seemed to follow me everywhere. I had lied to the Ealing's about the factory, I had lied to them about how my knee had been injured and I had lied about why I left them. No matter where I went, no matter who I was with the lies followed me and I couldn't escape them. Mother always said that a lie would come back to haunt you no matter who you told. The factory lie had caught up to me, the others had yet to, but if Mother was right, they would in the end. Would telling another lie just end up making things worse?

"You're in deep thought over there," James said, flicking a pea in my direction. He missed.

"Thinking about how to steal the rest of your biscuits." I flicked a pea at him in response.

"I don't think that's quite true, is it?"

"Today was long, that's all. I'm just tired."

"Did I miss something today? You've all been acting, how shall I put this, odd," Christopher added.

"The Ealing's turned up at the shop today." James took a swig of water from his glass.

"The Ealing's as in give-an-infraction-for-saving-their-child's-life Ealing's?"

"Uh-huh, the very same."

"What did they want?"

"Outfits for Christmas, though I doubt that was all they wanted considering a lovely piece of information Mrs Ealing gave us about Robert potentially marrying Maisie Blacklock."

"I wouldn't marry into the Blacklock family for toffee. Mind you, I wouldn't marry into the Ealing family either."

"Can we not talk about it anymore?" I pleaded.

James and Christopher glanced at one another out of the corner of their eyes but neither of said any more than they already had. Both of them had already had their say about the Ealing's long before they had shown up at the shop handing out more information then I wanted to know. Neither had been happy with the Ealing's for the way they had treated me, and they didn't even know the truth about my knee. They had asked, but I never told them. My knee had healed as much as it would, and I certainly didn't want to send all three of them to the Ealing's door threatening acts of violence for what happened. All of three of them had made threats to the foreman and they couldn't get to him. The Ealing's they could deal with.

Not only that but I didn't want to discuss what had happened that day until I had had time to think about it and decide just how I wanted to handle the situation. They were free to have their opinions and they were certainly free to tell me how I should deal with it and they could hate the Ealing's as much as they wanted. Yet there had always been a difference between me and them, and the Ealing's made that difference clearer to see.

They saw the worst in everyone and had always been quick to turn on those who had wronged them in the past, no matter how small that wronging may have been. I had always been the opposite and not even the factory could change that, though I agreed with their opinion on the foreman. I didn't want to view the Ealing's as bad people and I certainly didn't want to hate them despite everything that had happened since joining their household. They weren't bad people, at least not in the usual sense of the word and they certainly weren't comparable to the foreman, no matter what I may have thought about Mrs Ealing in those last weeks.

What Mrs Ealing did, she did because she cared for her family and thought I may have been a threat to that not because she was malicious There was a difference in why she did what she did compared to the foreman.

When supper was done, Christopher, Kitty and James retired to the drawing-room for tea to no doubt discuss Mrs Ealing and her attitude at the shop. I, however, retreated upstairs to my makeshift art studio so I could think about something else for a while. James had set the room aside for me, so I had somewhere to go if I needed to be by myself and everyone knew to leave me alone when I was in there. I also took naps on a pile of waste fabric from the shop which I had bundled up in the corner. The art room acted as a refuge from all of the thoughts that went around my head like a carousel and for the times when I couldn't sleep.

I pulled the dust sheet off the easel and looked at the half-finished canvas that sat on it, the paint long since dried. Everyone knew better than to come into the room and look at my paintings, it was one of the few things I asked of them and they always respected that. However, I still covered them with dust sheets when they were on the easel or stacked up in the corner, just as a precaution. It wasn't that I didn't trust them, I just didn't want them to see what I had been painting in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep.

From the easel, the looms from the factory stared back at me in all their glory. The figures of Suzanna and Lucy gripped the edge of the loom just as they had done for so many years and the whole scene was lit up by the strip of sunlight we saw through the high window. If I could close my eyes, the painting seemed to come to life, the loom would creak and groan as it was dragged backwards, and the girls would cough from the fibres as they inhaled them. To others, it would have been an ordinary painting but to me, I felt as though I had trapped that image in the canvas, and it could never bother me again.

"Rosie? Can I come in?" Christopher asked, knocking lightly on the door.

"Hang on," I said. I grabbed the dust sheet and threw it over the painting. "You can come in now."

"I'm not disturbing anything am I?" He pushed the door open and poked his head round to look at me.

"Not at all."

"Good."

Christopher stepped into the room and closed the door tightly behind him. He then crossed to the far corner of the room and sat down in the mass of fabric scraps that were kept in case James needed them, or for my naps. I watched as he settled himself into the fabric and tapped the spot beside him, raising an eyebrow at me. I scrunched up my face but stepped around the easel and the stacks of blank canvases to join him, sliding down the wall and settling into the space beside him. Christopher crossed his legs and dropped his hands into his lap, he twisted them together and then turned to look at me.

"We need to talk."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes." He paused. "I know you don't want to, your comment at supper made it abundantly clear, but you cannot continue to bottle things up until you explode. I won't force you to talk, but I'm not leaving until you do."

"What if I don't talk?"

"Then I'll keep following you around. I'll be wherever you are. All the time. No one wants that."

I huffed and dropped my hands into my lap. He was right, no one wanted to be followed around by Christopher, it was my idea of a living nightmare.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about, I don't even know how to feel about it. I'm just confused."

"And you have a right to be, if you weren't, I'd say something had addled your mind. From my estimation, you seem to be reacting rather well all things considered. Though it would be nice if you broke something, just to add to the emotion a little more."

"You're funny." I slapped him on the arm.

"I thought so."

He grinned at me, but when I responded with furrowed eyebrows, he dropped the grin and decided to pout like a child. Despite the way he may have acted and the fact that he had a habit of acting like a child, Christopher was right. Since entering the factory, I had worked to keep what I felt held up inside, so no one knew about it. It was easier that way, to internalise everything I felt so no one would get hurt. I also had to work to make sure Isabel missed the more brutal side of factory life. We all worked to shield her from it, it was easier that way.

Now, I didn't have to worry about shielding anyone and I knew that Christopher and James wouldn't care all that much if I broke something of little value just to get a little of my frustrations out. They might not have asked questions, but sometimes I wondered if they wanted me to talk about everything that happened or do something with it at least. I suppose painting it was one thing, but they didn't know I had been doing that and I didn't plan on showing them soon. When I was ready to talk about it, I would, but I wasn't.

The factory may not have been a subject I was willing to broach, at least not any time soon, but life at the Ealing's and their appearance at the shop the day before was a subject I would discuss if he were willing to listen. The only issue being, he had a habit of not listening and simply getting a little carried away with everything, par for the course of being an older brother I assumed.

"If I talk, do you promise to say nothing? No interruptions, no threats of violence, nothing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I will keep my mouth tightly buttoned until I deem otherwise. The guarantee of no threats of violence cannot be fulfilled, so I will not make any promises." I glared at him. "That is as good as it will get, take it or leave it."

"Before I left service, I read a letter that had been written to me long before the second infraction. I didn't open it for weeks because I didn't know who had written it or why. After the second infraction, when I snapped at Robert without thinking, Matilda told me he had written the note and I finally read it."

"What did it say?"

"That he was sweet on me. After I read it, I agreed that I couldn't stay there any more, especially if Mrs Ealing found out. It's just-" I paused.

"Just what?"

"Confusing. I thought we were just friends, that that was the way it would always be seeing as I was a servant and it wouldn't have been right."

"How do you feel about him?"

"That's the confusing part. I don't know, not anymore. From the first day, we met he had been kind to me, more than anyone had in the seven years before and out of everyone I met on that first day out of the factory. Even though I lied to him about it, he didn't care, and I thought of him as a friend. Now, I don't know. Him turning up at the shop and Mrs Ealing announcing they were trying to put him with Maisie Blacklock just knocked me and now I don't know how I'm supposed to feel."

I leant back against the wall and pressed my hands against my knees. Christopher didn't reply and instead dropped his head and glanced at the floor as though there were something important on it. I focused on the wall in front of me, the small spot on the wallpaper that had a splash of paint on it from when Sebastian had broken in and gotten his hands on my paint. He thought it would be fun to paint everything but canvas or paper. We hadn't managed to get the paint off that one spot, so it just sat there. When I needed time to think, the mark became my focal point.

Since leaving the Ealing's, I thought I would have more time to think about my feelings for Robert and try to come to terms with them a little more, but I felt more confused the longer I thought about it. I resolved not to until I thought I could handle them but then he showed up at the shop and it all came flooding back. For a month, I had been living a perfectly normal life with my brother's and I was fine with that. Fine with going to shop every day to help James or sitting in the drawing-room and turning the pages of his music when he played the piano. It had been quiet for the first time in months and the Ealing's had disturbed that.

If they had just stayed away, just for a little while longer, I could have dealt with it. Yet Mrs Ealing seemed determined to show me that Robert moved on and didn't care about me the way she believed I cared for him. Had she wanted to catch me out, she had done just that simply by turning up and surprising me, the second announcement wasn't necessary. It had just confused me further.

"The way I see it, you don't have to come to a conclusion about anything right this second. I know Mrs Ealing appearing at the shop threw you, I'd be surprised if it didn't, but you made a mature decision to leave based on what had happened. James and Matthew have both said you've come along away since they first met you and I think you need to focus on that. Forget Mrs Ealing, forget Robert and just be a child for once in your life. You owe yourself that much, at least," Christopher finally said.

"I don't think I know how to be a child."

"That's where I come in. Whenever the Ealing's will be at the shop, I'll be there too so you can talk to me and ignore them. Away from the shop and when I'm not working, I'll be doing my best to make sure you get that childhood that Father stole from you. Besides, James mentioned something about a list you have and if we put our minds together, I'm sure we could complete it."

"Work is more important than me."

"Hm, somehow I don't think it is. I have had years to work and people who come to me can be rather dull at times. Now, sliding down a hallway in my socks or eating far too much ice-cream sounds much more enjoyable."

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"I should go, James is going to ask questions," Christopher said glancing down at his watch. "Don't spend too long in here, you barely sleep as it is."

"I know, I know."

Christopher smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, he pulled me towards him and placed a light kiss on my forehead. He untangled himself from the collection of rags and shuffled his way up the wall to a standing position. From there, he gave me a slight wink and crossed the room to the door where he slipped through it. I could hear his footsteps retreating down the hall, but I stayed on the floor for a little while longer. As much as I hated to admit it, Christopher had been right. Again.

For seven years I had been a worker in a factory, for six months I had been a servant and for a month I had just been existing. Caught in the boundary between working and trying to be a normal child. I finally had the chance to just be a normal child and do things that I had been unable to do for years. The freedom all of us had sought after for most of life was finally within reach and I had already wasted too much time worrying about the Ealing's and the foreman. He was in prison, where he would most likely rot for the collection of crimes he had committed, and the Ealing's couldn't do anything to me now I no longer worked for them.

The boundaries I had faced for so long had been broken and it would be up to me to decide I went from here. I had the chance to do all the things I had missed out, including more art and the chance to finally win a snowball fight against my brothers. I could marry, if I wanted to, or not. All I had to was stop worrying about everything else, about the things that I couldn't change or were out of power and just live for me. More importantly, live for Isabel. I needed to complete that list. The list would be the start of me regaining the childhood I had lost, and Christopher had said he would help me. It had been seven months since her death, but it still felt like yesterday.

I pulled the list out of my pocket and unfolded it, straightening it out on my lap so I could read it a little better. One had been completed at the Ealing's and another since moving in with James, he had made me a dress of my own, most of them in fact. There was still a lot on the list, two I wanted to achieve by the end of the year and one I didn't think I would ever complete. The last one.

To fall in Love.

Isabel had a lot of fanciful notions about life, even if the life she had lived had been far from fanciful and falling in love had been one of them. She would always talk about finding a sweetheart and raising children, spending an afternoon by the fire in the dead of winter. For someone so young, she knew what she wanted out of life and the foreman had cut it short for his own ends. She would never get everything she wanted out of life, but that didn't mean I couldn't do it for her. Perhaps one day, when I had figured out my life outside service and where I stood with my own emotion, I would know. Until then, it would remain the only uncrossed section.

I folded the list back up into a square and tucked it away into my pocket, slumped back against the wall and glancing up to the ceiling. It had been a very long day.

"Rosie! Bed, now!" James called up the stairs.

"I'm going!" I replied.

My pocket rustled as I used the wall to push myself up. I hadn't gotten any painting done, even though it had been my reason for going into the room in the first place, I had spent more time figuring out what to do now the Ealing's had somehow managed to worm their way back into my life. Still, I wasn't going to worry about them anymore.

Christopher had been right, I needed to stop worrying about everyone else and start thinking about me. I had the opportunity and I had no intention of wasting it.

~~~

A/N - We're back! I'm so glad I have pre-written so many chapters for TAG because I have Belle and decided to do the ONC, you know, for torture purposes xD

If you want to check out my ONC entry, you can find it on my profile under the title 'Parallel'. It's a Historical/Paranormal twist!

Anyway, we have officially met Christopher! How do you feel about him? What about Rosie and her feelings to Mrs Ealing?

Comment below!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to AkwardMarthy for checking out the first two chapters of Belle! It means a lot :)

First Published - February 4th, 2020