"It should be easy to find you some tasks that don't require the use of your left hand, but they will largely involve cleaning I'm afraid," Miss Jenkins said as I filled her in on what happened with Matilda.

"That's fine, cleaning is something I'm actually pretty good at, besides, at least with cleaning I won't have to see Matilda unless we happen to pass," I said, shaking my head and flexing the fingers out on my left hand. Although the stiffness had loosed somewhat, it was still causing an issue. I had hoped Robert could come up with a way to help, but for the time being, it looked as though cleaning was the only thing I could do.

"I'm sure Mrs Ealing will understand, no matter what Miss Matilda has to say on the matter. It will take more than a dropping a jar of smelling salts for your trial to end, trust me."

"It's not the smelling salts that's the issue, I know she's going to use the burn on my arm to drive me out, it's already caused enough issues as it is."

"Don't worry about it, hopefully, Doctor Ealing and Robert can come up with a plan to help and Mrs Ealing will see that it won't cause too many problems. In the meantime, keep your head down and do the work to the best of your ability. Remember, Miss Matilda isn't the one making the decision, you don't have to impress her."

"I suppose."

"No supposing about it. Now, take this cloth and go and dust down some of the cabinets in the hall upstairs, Miss Charlotte has been putting her finger marks all over them."

Miss Jenkins grabbed a cloth from the small room where I took my bath the night before and stuffed it in my hand, gesturing me to the stairs. I nodded and quickly crossed the kitchen and returned to the hallway I had passed by three times since my arrival at the Ealing household. Unravelling the cloth, I set about cleaning down the side table closest to the entrance, using the cloth to remove the little finger marks that covered the wood.

The top of the side table was covered in picture frames, photographs taken of the family at what looked to be a gathering. Mr Ealing in the centre of the photograph, with Mrs Ealing beside him. Standing at the back, on either side of the elder Ealing's was Robert and Matilda. Both Matilda and Robert looked the same, as though the photographs were taken recently, the only difference between the photograph and the real thing was that Matilda was smiling. In front of Doctor and Mrs Ealing, were two smaller children, both grinning from ear to ear. The girl looked a little like Isabel when she was younger whilst the boy looked like a younger version of Robert. Along with the family photographs, there were small, individual photographs of every member of the house in small frames along the edge of the table, they all looked as though they had been taken on the same day.

Using the cloth, I lifted the individual photographs and cleaned the dust and finger marks from under the frames and on top of the individual frames that held the photographs. Once the side table was cleaned, I moved on to the next table, this one holding books lined up along the edge, dust settling on the pages. As I dusted the tops of the books, I tilted my head to read the titles written on the spines of the book. Although I wasn't great at reading, I knew enough to understand that the books in question where about medicine, meaning they belonged to Doctor Ealing and Robert rather than his wife. I thought it was odd that they were keeping the books in the hall, but I had no reason to question where they kept their books.

I moved my way along the hallway, dusting all the cabinets and as many of the painting as I could reach, though that wasn't very many. By the time I had reached the end of the hall, all of the cabinets were free of finger marks and looked as though no one had touched them in a while. I stepped back to admire my handiwork, making sure I hadn't missed anything. Despite Miss Jenkins telling me to clean the cabinets in the hall, I moved into the parlour and set about cleaning some of the bookshelves that crowded the room. All of them looked to be medical books, though I didn't quite know what any of it meant.

"I keep telling Charles he needs to get rid of some of these books, but he will not listen to me. He tells me he is keeping them for Robert or even Zachariah," a voice said. Startled, I turned around and came face to face with Mrs Ealing who was standing near one of the windows at the back of the room.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't see you there," I said, twisting the cloth.

"It's quite alright, you looked caught up in your work, who am I to disturb someone who is doing so well?" She paused. "I've had a conversation with both Robert and Matilda and they have filed me on what happened this morning. As far as I'm concerned, dropping the smelling salts was an accident and not something that could have been helped, despite what Matilda may have said, you will not be losing your position."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Besides, from what I've witnessed of your cleaning ability, you will do well here."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I shall leave you to it, I must see how Esther is getting on with Charlotte. My husband will come and see you about your arm later on this evening, I believe he has a solution. Goodbye, Rosie."

"Goodbye, ma'am."

With a small smile, Mrs Ealing placed something down on one of the small tables beside an armchair and left the room, passing me as she walked out into the hall. I watched her go, surprised that she had been so calm about me interrupting her, not even caring that I had entered the room without permission. The only person who seemed bothered by my arrival was Matilda and I couldn't figure out why it would be such a problem. My hope was that by the end of my trial, Matilda would have warmed to me enough that it would not interfere with Doctor and Mrs Ealing's decision to keep me on beyond the two weeks.

After recovering from my initial shock, I continued with my cleaning, wiping down the bookshelves and the side tables throughout the room. I also went as far as to straighten up some of the cushions on the chairs as well as the dollies that hung over the back of the armchairs. I moved my way around the room, retying the curtain ropes and cleaning the window sills. With Esther distracted by Charlotte, I thought it best to continue cleaning the other rooms as she wouldn't have the opportunity. Although I was helping Esther out with the chores she normally did, deep down I felt as though the more work I did, the more chance I had of being kept on after the trial.

Glancing around the room, I grabbed the cloth and headed back to the kitchen to see what Miss Jenkins would want me to do next if anything. I dropped the cloth back into the room I had got it from and headed back into the kitchen where Miss Jenkins was busy making luncheon for the family. "Ah, you're back!"

"What can I do now?" I asked.

"Well, Esther has gotten caught up with Miss Charlotte and I'm running low on potatoes. Could you go into the garden and try to find Samuel and ask him to bring some into the pantry? He should be near the vegetable patch, so it won't take you too long to find him."

"Who's Samuel?"

"The gardener, he was employed by Doctor Jenkins just over a year ago, we don't see him too often."

"Okay, where is the vegetable patch?"

"Through that door, follow the path and then through a small gate and you'll be there, if Samuel isn't there, hang around for a few minutes and he'll turn up, he's never too far away."

"I can do that."

"Great, off you go then."

Miss Jenkins waved her hand at me and gestured me to the small door at the back of the kitchen, a door I hadn't noticed until it was pointed out. Nodding, I disappeared through the gate and out onto a gravel path that wound away from the house. Taking Miss Jenkins' instructions on board, I followed the gravel path until it stopped right in front of a small wooden gate that enclosed the vegetable patch. The rest of the vegetable patch was concealed behind a slightly dirty, pointed fence that lay at different angles, as though it hadn't been built properly. Compared to the house, the fence didn't look as though it was part of the house at all, it was dirty and mismatched whilst the house had been cleaned from top to bottom.

I grabbed the latch on the gate and swung it open, stepping into the vegetable patch, a place I never thought I would find myself in when I was working back at the factory. Tucked behind the mismatched fence, were rows of freshly dug earth, some sprouting small green shoots or extravagant plants. Working at the back of the field was a tall, dark-skinned man racking the earth back and forth, his back turned to me. His clothing was torn slightly, and mud was splattered up his trousers and shirt, he didn't notice me when I closed the gate, locking the latch behind me to stop it swinging open.

For several seconds, I took in the man before me. I had never met away with dark skin before, it looked as though his entire body was made of the mud that covered his clothing. Small white lines were visible on his skin between the rips in his clothing, lines that looked distinctly like scars, only they stood out on his darkened skin tone. I knew staring was rude so quickly shook my head to stop myself from looking at him and cleared my throat. The man in front of me dropped the rake in shock and spun around to face me, his eyes wide with fear.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I said, "I'm Rosie, the new servant up at the house."

"I'm Samuel, the gardener," he said. His voice had a distinct accent, but I had no idea where he was from. Outside of London, my knowledge of the rest of the world was minimal, practically non-existent.

"I know. Miss Jenkins asked me to let you know that we need more potatoes, up at the house."

"There are some here, you can take them with you." He gestured to a wooden crate full of an assortment of vegetables, including the potatoes Miss Jenkins was asking for.

"I don't think my hand would like it," I said, showing him the burn on my fingers.

"If you wait there, Miss, I will walk back to the house with you, with the crate. Let me finish this."

"Okay."

Samuel picked the rake up off the ground and set about continuing the task he was working on before I had scared him. I stood next to the gate and watched him work, fascinated by his work and how much time he had gotten to spend outside. The sun was beating down on the back of my neck, beads of sweat forming underneath the edge of my bonnet. Back in the factory, we worked inside for several hours a day, the heat often becoming too much during the Summer months. I couldn't imagine working in those conditions daily, but Samuel wasn't even starting to sweat, despite the warm weather he was working in.

After several minutes, he stopped and pulled a cloth from his pocket, wiping it over his brow before stuffing it back in his pocket. Samuel leant the rake against the fence and turned to face me, looking a little apprehensive about walking back to the house with me. I knew, by the way he acted when I asked him about the potatoes, that he was not looking forward to walking up to the house. Perhaps that was why he said he would walk with me rather than going up on his own, something in his voice and the way he acted made me curious, but I wasn't going to ask if it wasn't my place.

"We should go, Miss. I wouldn't want to keep you from your chores," Samuel said, grabbing the crate.

"Right, of course." I turned and undid the latch on the gate, swinging it open and letting Samuel walk through it. Once he had passed through, I shut the gate behind him, making sure the latch was closed behind me. The two of us headed up the path I had followed before, after several minutes I turned to talk to Samuel. "You don't have to call me Miss, Rosie will be fine."

"If you're sure," he said.

"I'm sure." I smiled at him, trying to keep the atmosphere between us as friendly as possible, but it was growing uncomfortable. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you end up working for the Ealing's?"

"Doctor Ealing hired me when I was freed, no one else would but him. I stay in the garden when I can help it, Miss Matilda doesn't like me around the house."

"She's not a big fan of me either and I've only been here one day. Master Robert isn't so bad, he's been kind."

"He has been kind to me too." Samuel readjusted his grip on the crate. "How did you get the burn?"

"It was an accident, I fell and caught my dress whilst employed at the workhouse. I was dismissed because of it."

The conversation between us fell silent, Samuel occasionally pausing to adjust his grip on the crate as we followed the path up to the house. The gravel crunched under our feet as we reached the back door to the kitchen, the door left slightly open from when I walked through it before. I pushed the door open and leant against it, so Samuel could pass and enter the kitchen. He shuffled past me, quickly walking from the kitchen, into the pantry where he dropped off the crate and left again without another word. I watched as he walked back down the path, not even glancing back as he headed back to the vegetable patch.

My eyes lingered through the small window that looked out onto the garden, waiting to see if Samuel was going to come back up the path with something else, but he didn't. Everything about his demeanour and his attitude towards me was odd, the way he acted towards me, as though I was his superior rather than an equal in the workforce. The speed in which he left the kitchen and headed out to continue his work was strange as well, he didn't even pause to get a glass of water, even with the heat. One thing that played on my mind more than anything else was the scars on his back, the small thin lines that trailed through the rips in his clothing.

The scars stood out more on his dark skin then they did on anyone else I had seen and because they were visible, they looked painful, even if it had been a while since the marks were made. I had my own scars, but none looked as bad as Samuel's, the white lines being a stark contrast to his dark skin. Though he had asked about the burn on my arm, I never thought it was my place to ask him about the scars on his back. My burn had been an unfortunate event, back scars were usually caused by someone else and it was not my place to go poking my nose into his private life, but that didn't mean I couldn't ask Miss Jenkins.

"Miss Jenkins, can I ask you something?" I said, walking away from the door and towards the table.

"Of course, you can, I'm here to answer whatever questions you may have," she replied, smiling but not looking up from her task.

"Samuel said that he had been freed and that Doctor Ealing and taken him on as a gardener because no one else would. What did he mean?"

"Samuel came to England on a boat from America a few years ago, he was a slave. From what I know, he grew up on a plantation, spent most of his life there and was freed after the Civil War. Rather than stay in America, he thought a life in England would be better, but no one would hire him, even though slavery had been abolished in 1933. Doctor Ealing hired him to work in the garden after seeing him being tormented on the streets," she said.

"How old was he? When he was freed?"

"Seventeen, I believe."

"Did he get the scars on his back from his time as a slave?"

"I believe so, yes. He had then when he started working here so it is safe to assume they were from his time in America."

"Why was he a slave?"

Miss Jenkins paused what she was doing and turned to look at me, furrowing her eyebrows as though she couldn't quite understand why I was asking so many questions. In the factory, we had little to no knowledge of anything beyond its walls, every event that occurred went unknown by all of us unless someone new was able to inform us of events. For seven years, I had no idea what was going on in London or elsewhere and asking questions was the only way I would be able to get this information. To Miss Jenkins, my lack of knowledge of the outside world was strange, but she never questioned it, even if she looked as though she wanted to.

"I have to get on, Rosie. We will finish this conversation later. Could you go and find Esther for me? I need her to set the table for luncheon. We will teach you how to do it in time, but for now, I will need her," Miss Jenkins said, changing the topic of conversation.

"Oh, okay. Do you know where she could be?"

"She will be around, you'll find her. If you get lost, I'm sure Master Robert will help you."

"Right."

Without another word, I turned and left Miss Jenkins alone in the kitchen, hearing her mutter to herself as I walked down the hallway and up the stairs. I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked the dark staircase, emerging on the lower floor. The way Miss Jenkins had changed the conversation and refused to tell me where I could find Esther was strange, I felt as though she was trying to get rid of me, as though she didn't want me there. It had been so easy for her to brush it off, as though it wasn't important for me to know. As I crossed the hallway and began my search for Esther, I couldn't help but wonder what Miss Jenkins was trying to keep from me, what she didn't want me to know.

Nevertheless, I shook the thoughts from my mind and continued searching for Esther, checking all the rooms on the ground floor before making my way up the stairs to the second floor. I walked past Robert's room and glanced around the open door to see if he or Esther were in there, not too surprised to find it empty. I continued down the rest of the hall, not finding Esther in any of the rooms I looked in. When I reached Matilda's room, I refused to knock or check to see if Esther was in there, especially if it meant I was going to have to face Matilda again, that was something I didn't want to do until it was necessary. Not finding Esther, I turned and started making my way back along the hall, checking the rooms again in case I had missed her. I stuck my head around Robert's door again, scanning quickly to make sure Esther wasn't in there. Realising she wasn't, I went to turn back around when I heard a small voice say:

"Who are you?"

~~~

A/N - Welcome back to Chapter Seven of The Factory Girl! I finished this chapter earlier then I thought I would and was so tempted to upload it early, but I resisted! I don't know if the weekly updates will continue, Uni officially started today so my workload will increase.

Also, we won the Judges Award for The Magic Awards! I'm so happy to have won and it means so much to me! Check out the 'Awards' chapter at the start of this book which I will add to when we get more awards!

Anyway, what did you guys think of the chapter? We've had a better introduction to Mrs Ealing and the garden, Samuel. What do you think Rosie meant when she said 'I have my own scars'? And who do you think spoke at the end?

Comment below your thoughts and don't forget to vote!

Dedication - This chapter is dedicated to aggie23FF who was one of the judges for The Magic Awards and contributed to The Factory Girl winning the Judges Pick!

First Published - September 25th, 2018