The Factory Girl // Book 1 in the Rosie Grey series

Chapter Twenty-Eight

As I returned to the kitchen, I dumped the old loaf of bread onto the table and watched as Miss Jenkins pulled a pan out of the cupboard and put it on the stove. She produced a large, serrated edged knife from one of the drawers and carved the bread into slices, placing one of them onto the pan. I watched as the bread did nothing in the pan, waiting for Miss Jenkins to turn it over to reveal the toasted underside. Watching someone make toast was always my favourite thing to do as a child. I would stand in the kitchen in the morning and watch Mother make toast, it was the one thing she did on her own.

Miss Jenkins proceeded to flip the slice of bread one last time, waiting for it to crisp up before she slid the tray of butter towards her and slathered it onto the bread. My mouth watered as I watched the butter melt before a layer of jam was added over the top. She looked at me and smiled slightly before placing the toast onto a plate and sliding it over the table to me. I furrowed my eyebrows at her, wondering whether or not she intended for me to eat it or take it to someone. Although that thought was in my head, I knew no one else was awake yet, it was too early for anyone other me and Miss Jenkins.

"Take it, you barely ate anything last night and you do need food to function, despite what you might think," Miss Jenkins said, bushing the plate closer towards me.

"I've managed a full day's work on nothing before, so I'll be fine with only a few bites of a sandwich," I said, laughing slightly.

"That may have been the case in the past, but not now. Eat it."

"If you insist."

Grinning at Miss Jenkins I shoved almost half of the toast in my mouth at once, feeling the jam, butter and warm bread explode. After having not eaten much the previous day, the piece of toast was like heaven, though I said that about a lot of food. In the factory, it had always been different kinds of watered-down soup or porridge. It never tasted right and did very little to decrease the hunger we were all feeling, after a while, we learnt to ignore that feeling and just get on with what we had to do. Being at the Ealing's meant that I didn't have to fight the hunger feeling, and it was great.

Whilst I ate the rest of the toast, Miss Jenkins made several more pieces, giving another to me and placing the others on two other plates. As I started on the second piece, eating slower this time, Miss Jenkins left the room and I heard her footsteps retreat up the stairs to mine and Esther's room. Several seconds later she returned, and Esther followed not long after. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head as she entered the kitchen, pausing slightly as she noticed the bruise on the side of my face. Finishing up my second piece of toast, I dusted my hands off on my dress, ignoring the obvious blood stains that had dribbled down from my collar. Miss Jenkins seemed to notice them as well.

"We really need to get that dressed cleaned, Rosie, you can't walk around covered in blood."

"It's not like we have any other choices, this is the only dress I have," I said, shrugging.

"Maybe I can help with that," Matilda said, appearing in the doorway. If I didn't know any better, I would say she had been listening at the door this entire time, and she probably was. None of us had heard her coming.

"How do you mean, Miss?" Miss Jenkins said, furrowing her eyebrows as Matilda produced a piece of grey cloth from behind her back.

"I took this from a servant a few years ago and it's been hidden in my wardrobe ever since. I don't know if it will fit, but it will allow your dress to be cleaned if that's possible."

"Why on earth did you take one of our past servant's clothing?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you, it was that long ago. I hope it helps." Matilda handed the dress over to Esther who was standing nearer the door.