When the bell rang that morning, the first thing Rose noticed was a lingering tension in the room.

Blanche had toffees, and had offered them to Elizabeth and Sheila, but not Monica.

"Trouble in the she-mob," Harriet murmured to her from their beds across the room.

Indeed, Monica was now sitting on her bed, watching jealously as Sheila and Elizabeth talked and laughed with Blanche.

She sighed. "Come on, I need to get to the kitchen."

𑁍𑁍𑁍

She and Sheila were just taking a milk churn up to Stan when she saw Will with him, unpacking the fresh milk.

"Morning, Stan!" Rose said to the man, before saying. "And hello, Will."

"Hey, Rose," Will grinned.

"Morning Rose, Sheila," Stan said. "I was passing the baker's this morning, happened to find some fancy cakes at two a penny and I thought about those girls that always brighten my morning with a smile."

He held out a nice baker's box and Rose smiled as she opened it, revealing two nice cakes with a cherry each on top.

"Thank you, Stan," smiled Sheila.

"Thank you!" Rose grinned.

"Hey, what about me?" Will asked. "I've been carrying these churns in for ages now!"

"You can have this," Rose plucked the cherry off the top of her cake and passed it to him. He took it off her hand, both giggling as he ate it.

"Does your employer pay you to flirt, boy?"

Looking round, Rose saw a man in dapper clothes with a round belly, showing off what looked like a new top hat.

Will frowned at him. "Wha-?"

"Don't speak unless spoken to," the man interrupted him. "And you," he looked scornfully at Rose and Sheila. "You of all people should refrain from talking to young men, lest you end up like your mothers."

Rose started forward. "How DARE you-!"

"Rose," Will's hand on her shoulder stopped her, and his soft murmur.

Sheila took a chance in the silence to say. "Uh, yes sir, sorry sir. Can I help you, sir?"

"Mr Overton," said the man. "I have an appointment with Matron Bottomley and Colonel Brigwell."

"Uh, this way, sir," Sheila said as she led Overton inside.

Once they were gone, Rose began gathering up the bread in Stan's delivery, only stopping when he leaned over and said. "What's old Overcharge doing here?"

Will scoffed slightly at the name.

"I don't know and I don't care, he had no right to say that," Rose seethed. "Who is he?"

"The most expensive painter and decorator in this part of town," said Stan.

Rose sighed, gathering up more bread.

"I'll help you," said Will, getting the remaining loaves and bidding goodbye to Stan with Rose, before following her down the steps into the kitchen.

"I- I wasn't trying to flirt with you there, you know that?" Will told her hesitantly once they were alone.

The corners of Rose's lips quirked up. "It's fine. I know, and besides, Mr Overweight or whatever his name is can say whatever he likes, I really couldn't care l-"

She stopped at the look on Will's face, as though he was holding in laughter.

"What?" Rose asked, letting out a small chuckle, her cheeks going slightly red. "Will- what-?"

And before either knew what was happening, they were both bursting out laughing, happy.

"Sorry," Will eventually said through the laughs. "I just- Mr Overweight..."

Rose chuckled. "Well, it's true. Even if nothing he said was."

Will grinned. "Thanks, Rose."

"You're welcome."

Ida's footsteps coming down the corridor made Will sigh. "I have to go. I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah," Rose smiled as he ran back to the steps, waving just before he disappeared out of sight.

"See you soon."

𑁍𑁍𑁍

The next news in the hospital was that Stan had been hired to repaint the hospital, rather than Mr Overton. Mainly because of price reasons, but still, it made Rose happy to know that Stan had got one over on him.

But at the moment, Rose was in class, Nurse Macclesfield reading out the register.

"Elspethe Brown?"

"Yes, Nurse Macclesfield."

"Amber Church?"

"Yes, Nurse Macclesfield."

"Monica Clackett?"

Silence.

"Monica Clackett?" Macclesfield asked again, irritated. She looked up, and Rose looked round, both seeing the same thing.

Sheila and Elizabeth were sitting at the she-mob's normal desk, but Monica was nowhere to be seen.

During the brief (happy) interlapse with Will, Rose had forgotten all about what had happened this morning, and how Monica had been cruelly left out of the she-mob, replaced with Blanche.

"She's not here, nurse," Harriet said, looking around but not seeing Monica anywhere.

Macclesfield sighed. "Where is she?"

"You don't think she's tried to run away..." Elizabeth murmured loudly.

"Well, if she has, there shall be consequences for all of you," Macclesfield looked round at them, hard look on her face. Then she looked over at Sheila and Elizabeth. "Especially her friends."

"That's not fair," Sheila instantly said.

"We're not her friends," agreed Elizabeth.

"Barely know the girl," nodded Sheila.

Rose frowned over at them. What's going on?

"Arrgh! Come quickly!"

Suddenly, a loud, high pitched scream echoed through the classroom, coming from somewhere in the hospital. Rose's eyes went wide and her muscles tensed.

"What was that?" Harriet asked unsurely.

"Er- some foolishness, no doubt," Macclesfield answered, though it was equally as unsure. "One of the juniors playing a silly joke."

"That wasn't a joke-" Harriet shook her head.

"Jane Davis?" Macclesfield ignored her, carrying on with the register.

"Yes, Nurse Macclesfield."

"Poppy Coates?"

"Yes, Nurse Macclesfield."

"Betty Harrison?"

"Yes, Nurse Macclesfield..."

And on and on it went.

But Rose couldn't get that scream of her head.

And she couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

That day at lunch, everything came to a head.

Rose knew something was wrong the moment Matron walked in, her face not in its usual hard expression and instead formed into a sort of- sadness.

"Girls..." she said, making all the foundlings stand up as she walked to the head of the hall. "I have something to tell you."

Rose got the feeling she wasn't going to like this news.

"It is- very sad news, and I hope that you will bear it bravely, like faithful Christians," Matron announced, looking down.

Then she delivered it. "This morning, there was an accident. Monica Clackett fell down the staircase in the hall. A doctor was summoned immediately, but-"

Her voice got choked up and Rose could already feel her eyes getting misty. No-

"I am afraid- that our Good Lord has seen fit... to deliver Monica from this sinful world, and clasp her to his bosom," Matron finished.

Rose could feel her heartbeat in her ears. She couldn't believe it. Monica was... she was-

No. Don't say it.

"Now, let us pray," Matron said, gesturing for all the foundlings to sit down.

As Matron led a prayer, sitting at the head of the table, Rose squeezed her eyes shut tight to stop herself from crying. Monica had- she had bullied her. She had been mean, and she had followed Sheila around, and she had been irritating as anything-

But she didn't deserve, in any way, what she got.

As they started to eat after the prayer, Ida stepped forward. "Girls, I know you must be feeling very upset at this. If you ever need someone to talk to-"

"You will not talk to the kitchen staff!" Matron exclaimed, her sharp voice and hard face back suddenly. "Know your place, Ida Battersea!"

Ida stepped back, face red, head down. Rose wasn't capable of feeling angry at Matron, though.

She wasn't sure if she was capable of feeling much at all.

Sheila put up her hand and Matron asked. "What is it?"

"How did the accident happen?" Sheila asked. She was not teary, but her face displayed all her emotion. And Rose could tell she was devastated.

"Well, it seems that for some reason, Monica broke our rules, and went inside the hospital during recreation period," said Matron. "Realising she was late for lessons, she ran down the staircase, and- and sadly, she fell."

"How could she just fall?" Harriet asked.

"A careless delivery boy left a paintbrush covered with paint on the stairs," Matron began to get testy. "The poor child must have slipped on it."

"Stan," Rose managed to get out. "It was... Stan's fault?"

"It was nobody's fault," Matron reprimanded her, back to being choked up again. "It was merely unfortunate. That's all."

Elizabeth slowly raised a hand. Matron pressed her lips together. "What is it, Elizabeth?"

"Will there be a funeral, Matron?" Elizabeth asked, tears shining in her eyes.

Matron sighed. "We will pray for her in chapel and you should add her to your own nightly prayers. Now, let us speak no more."

But as Rose tucked into her food, she didn't want to speak.

She wanted to scream.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

"I just want to say, Matron was wrong," Stan was sitting, miserable, at the kitchen table as Rose and Sheila arrived, Ida busing herself around him. "I know for a fact I cleared up everything and put it inside when I went for lunch!"

Rose sighed, beginning on the washing up as Stan said. "I'm so sorry about that poor girl."

"Monica!" Sheila was crying now, tears streaming down her face as she faced Stan. "Her name was Monica!"

She left the kitchen after this, wiping her eyes and sobbing into her hand.

"But I know I didn't cause the accident!" Stan exclaimed quietly once she was gone.

"Then you should tell somebody," Rose told him. "Mr Cranbourne, Colonel Brigwell!"

"I did," Stan put his head in his hands. "They believe Matron. I'm just a delivery boy."

Rose shook her head. "What's Matron trying to hide-?"

"Hey, you mustn't talk like that, Rose," Ida reprimanded. "You could get into a lot of trouble."

"But- Matron's always lying," Rose said.

"Listen," Ida looked straight at her. "I saw Matron after- after she found Monica. The poor woman was beside herself."

"Matron was?" Rose uttered.

"The look on her face... I've never seen the like," Ida nodded. "I know you think Matron's a monster, Rose, but she's human, just like all of us."

"I can't lose my job over this!" Stan added. "Me and my brothers, we'll end up in the workhouse!"

Rose shook her head.

She wanted to promise him he wouldn't.

But she had longsince learned not to make promises she can't keep.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

The gang hadn't met up at the tower in a long time. But tonight was necessary.

So they had hung the duster, got the cap in return, headed up there, lit the candles and all gathered.

"I don't believe it," Will was just saying. "Poor Monica, she was..."

He drew to a stop and Ned said reasonably. "Well, of the three of them, she was the least worst."

The boys agreed with him immediately but Harriet and Rose stayed silent.

Rose then spoke up. "I know she wasn't our friend, but..."

"It wasn't your fault," Will spoke up instantly, looking straight into her eyes and piercing her with his warm brown ones.

"It was an accident," agreed Gideon.

"But Stan's being blamed for it, and he feels awful," Rose snarled.

"Well, he should've cleared up his painting stuff, then," Walter said sharply.

"That's the thing; he swears he did," Harriet said.

"We have to help," Mathias said. "Find out the truth."

"But it's not going to bring her back though, is it?" Walter said.

"No, but it might help the ones that actually seem to care about her, unlike you!" Rose snapped forcefully at him. "Her life meant something! She was worth more than just a short prayer in chapel, we all are!"

A few tears fell down her face, and she bit her lip. She didn't know what to do or say after that.

No one did.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

"Will, can you... can you wait a second?"

Rose had told Harriet to wait for her down the ladder as the boys left the tower, but she had to keep Will.

"Yeah, of course," Will said, as he and Rose sat back down, looking at each other.

Rose's eyes became glassy. "I just- I just feel so guilty."

Will frowned. "Why?"

"Because I didn't make an effort to get to know her," Rose clamped her teeth onto her lip, biting down to stop the tears. "But deep down I know I didn't- I didn't want to get to know her. I just... I just that following around Sheila was all there was to her."

Will softly placed his hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away. "Rose... you are not to blame for any of this. Can you... can you not see how brilliant you are to everyone around you?"

Rose shook her head, an ironic smile playing on her lips. "I'm not brilliant, Will."

Will chuckled. "You really can't see it," he sighed. He hoped the dim light from the candles would conceal her blush. "Well, let me be the first to tell you. Rose Green, you are brilliant. And you have no reason to be feeling guilt over this. Monica didn't want to be known. It's not your fault she closed in on herself, and it's certainly not your fault for anything to do with the accident. I did say you were brilliant, but you're not superhuman."

Rose chuckled, looking up at Will and smiling. He had just summed up everything she had been feeling since finding out about Monica's death, simultaneously cheering her up.

He had told her what he was feeling, so she decided to take a leap of faith, and tell him what she was in return.

"Well, I think you're pretty brilliant yourself, Will."

𑁍𑁍𑁍

Rose had met Harriet in the rafters and both of them were climbing back down into the cupboard now-

When the door was opened.

Rose froze. There stood Ida, candle in hand, nightclothes on body, and expectant look on face.

"Well?"

"Um- we thought we heard an intruder in the attic," Rose invented feebly.

"Really?" Ida asked with a (pretend) gasp. "So, I'd better fetch Matron and Mr Cranbourne, had I?"

"No, please don't tell anyone!" Harriet begged. "It's just- sometimes we go up to the tower to talk to the boys."

"The boys?" Ida was shocked.

"It's the only way I can see my brother, and my- friends," Rose didn't know what she was about to say about Will, but she knew that she didn't want to say it in front of Ida. "Please, Ida."

Ida paused for a second, then sighed heavily.

"Alright," she said. "I didn't see this. And I don't ever want to see it again, understood? Be more carful in future."

"Yes, Ida."

"Yes, Ida."

Ida gave them a small smile before heading away.

Rose didn't know what was worse. No more Ned or no more Will. She couldn't see them anymore. She just- there was no way.

She couldn't believe it.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

Rose Green xx

When Rose caught her name, in Will's handwriting, on a folded letter that Sheila was holding, anger coursed through her faster than sense.

"That's mine!" She shouted, as Sheila unfolded it. "Give it back!"

"I'll tell Matron-!"

"Give it back!"

She chased her across the kitchen, stopping only when Sheila red enough of the letter to say. "The boys think Matron's lying about the paint!"

"What? What does it say?" Rose snatched the letter from Sheila.

As she read it, she got information that Stan had been concentrating on the white arches, as that was the newest paint. But the paint from the brush Monica had 'slipped on' was blue. So it couldn't have been him.

"Poor Stan," Sheila sighed. "What do they say really happened?"

"I'll find out," Rose said, making to leave-

Before Sheila fell into step with her. "No, we'll find out."

Rose didn't have the heart to argue.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

It took a bit of searching around the steps before they found it.

It was in a cupboard at the top of the stairs. A mop. Well, a broken mop.

And this wasn't a cleaning cupboard. So the mop was- was hidden in there.

Rose frowned, turning round and showing it to Sheila. "Look at this."

"What's that doing there?"

"It's still damp," Rose said, holding the end of the cleaning tool.

"But, why would somebody hide it?" Sheila asked.

"Sheila? Rose!"

Nurse Macclesfield was running up the stairs. Rose quickly tossed the mop back into the cupboard.

"Breaking the rules again, Rose Green!" Macclesfield hissed, once she saw the scene. "And you, Sheila Ormsby, I expect better of you!"

"Please, nurse-"

"Don't make excuses to me," Macclesfield snapped. "Save them for Matron."

Great, Rose smirked as she was led to Matron's office.

Macclesfield thought she was punishing them.

But really, she was taking Rose exactly where she wanted to go.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

"So sorry to disturb you Matron, but I found these two neglecting their duties. Wandering around the hospital."

Mr Cranbourne and Nurse Winterson were in Matron's office, along with the woman herself, when they arrived. Good, more witnesses.

"We weren't wandering," Rose informed the adults. "We were investigating."

"Investigating?" Matron got to her feet.

"Investigating what?" Winterson asked.

"What happened with Monica! It wasn't Stan's fault!" Rose exclaimed.

"Paint stains were the wrong colour," Sheila added.

"And we found a broken mop someone tried to hide," Rose finished. "Ask Matron. Ask Matron what really happened."

Mr Cranbourne cleared his throat. "Matron has already told us-"

"No."

Matron was standing, same sad look on her face, her eyes trained on some spot in the distance.

"No the truth is that, when I found-" she stopped for a second, taking a deep breath before continuing. "When I found her... I realised immediately what must have happened."

She told a story of how she found the mop, broken, and Monica, together.

"But who left the mop on the stairs?" Cranbourne asked.

Matron shook her head.

"I-I did it. It- it was me."

Nurse Macclesfield.

Tears came to her eyes instantly as she exclaimed. "It was my fault!"

She had left the mop there a few hours before the accident.

"I'm sorry, Mable. I wanted to spare you from this," Matron came over, holding Macclesfield's arms and trying to comfort her, but it was no use. She was shaking with sobs now, convulsing violently as Matron dragged her to sit down.

Rose knew the rest of the story. Matron had hid the mop, dipped the brush in paint of the wrong colour, threw it down the stairs and then preceded to tell the whole hospital a bald faced lie.

"Allowing Stan to be blamed, it was a misjudgement, but I-" Matron paused. "I did it to help a friend."

Doesn't make it right, though.

"But Stan Pollard is afraid he's going to lose his job," Winterson reminded everyone.

"Yes, we must- we must set his mind at rest," nodded Cranbourne. "I will tell him that his brush did not cause the accident, and... as for the rest of this unfortunate incident, I think it best we keep it to ourselves."

All the adults nodded.

But that wasn't everyone in the room.

"But what about Monica?" Sheila asked, teary still.

"People deserve to know the truth!" Rose agreed.

"My dear child, what difference would it make?" Cranbourne asked.

Rose looked down. She didn't have an answer to that.

"Monica is gone, and we cannot change that," continued Cranbourne. "And... it was nobody's fault."

Rose knew that was true. She knew it. But she didn't quite believe it.

"Now, girls... return to your duties," said Cranbourne to Rose and Sheila. "There will be no punishment today."

It didn't feel right, leaving the office when Macclesfield was crying, Matron was trying and failing to comfort her and Cranbourne was struggling to stay in charge, but Rose knew she had to.

She also knew that Monica deserved better.

𑁍𑁍𑁍

So they did something about it.

That evening in the dorm, Rose, Harriet, Sheila and Elizabeth sat down on the floor on their pillows, candles in the centre of their circle, Rose with a quill and paper.

"Why are we doing this?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because she was your friend," Rose told them.

"What do we... say?" Sheila asked, unsure around Rose for once in her life.

"Just, anything," Rose said. "What she was interested in, what she liked, what she didn't like."

"Cabbage."

But that wasn't from Sheila or Elizabeth. It was from Blanche, who came over from her bed just then, candle in hand.

"She said it smelled like someone had broken wind," she chuckled slightly - first time Rose had seen her smile. "She used to swap with me for potatoes. She liked potatoes."

Rose smiled slightly, noting all this down.

Blanche clearly hadn't forgotten her borrowed family, or her life with Monica, after all.

"And hopscotch," Blanche added.

"Hopscotch?" Sheila frowned.

"We would play it for days on end when we were younger," Blanche went on. "It was our game. And we would name the squares after different towns - Oxford, Edinburgh, Manchester, York. We used to say that... one day we would really visit them."

Rose smiled even more warmly.

"She loved to sing," said Elizabeth in a small voice.

Sheila chuckled. "She was tone deaf. But... she never knew that. And... we never told her."

Elizabeth smiled, resting her head on Sheila's shoulder.

They're a lot closer than I thought, the she-mob, Rose thought happily. I thought that they were just Sheila's minions, but... they're better than that.

And even though Monica was gone... they all tried to be better. Tried to be people, and friends, that she would be proud of.

They managed to get the boys to use their new printing press skills, printing copies and copies of their Monica memoirs, and pinning them up everywhere.

They wanted everyone to remember.

Each foundling got one, and even though no one would ever admit it, they all knew it front to back.

They wanted to remember Monica.

And they needed those memories to last.

Because she was worth a lot.

All the foundlings were.