I spent half the night working on the dress.

By the time I finally let exhaustion claim me, the fabric had started to resemble more of a dress, and I could crawl between the blankets and go to be without it weighing on my mind. Perhaps one of the best things about being with the Atkinsons was that I did not have to get up at five in the morning for chores and could spend even longer in bed then I want to. Although I woke up with the sun, as per usual, I simply rolled over and went back to sleep and waited for a few hours before actually getting up.

When I finally decided to emerge from bed, I could hear William walking around in the hallway outside, whistling one of the Christmas songs to himself. I pushed the blanket off and got dressed, pulling on the non-dry woollen stockings from Mrs Atkinson that I really wanted to keep when I returned to the orphanage. After running a brush through my hair, I grabbed the now empty plate of biscuits to return it to the kitchen.

Sounds of conversation drifted from the dining room as I walked past the door and headed down the steps towards the kitchen. I could hear the sound of water splashing as I descended the stairs with the plate in hand. Mrs Langdon spotted me the moment I appeared in the doorway and almost dropped the spoon she was holding when she saw me standing there.

"Just returning the plate William gave me last night," I said, holding it up so she could see it.

"Ah, perfect timing. I was just doing the dishes," she said.

"I have a knack for timing." I paused. "Most of the time."

"Perhaps you can teach Master William a thing or two about timing. He has the worst timing known to man."

"For a baker, that's strange."

"Yes, yes, it is."

Mrs Langdon laughed, and I placed the plate onto the table for her to wash before going back up the stairs and walking into the dining room. Everyone else was already seated but no one said anything about my slightly late arrival. Mrs Atkinson just smiled at me and turned her attention back to her breakfast and the eggs pile that looked like a challenge for William's bacon pile. I slid into my seat opposite William and placed some of the breakfast selection onto my plate.

We ate in silence with only the turn of the newspaper to break the silence or the occasional sound of cutlery scraping on the plates. The Atkinsons, it seemed, were not ones for breakfast time conversation or conversation of any kind when they were eating. It certainly was a contrast to mealtimes at the orphanage when we were all as loud as we could be without getting into trouble. Silence just unnerved me.

After breakfast, Mr Atkinson went upstairs to the office for what William called 'the boring life of an accountant' whilst Mrs Atkinson went upstairs to root through the decoration boxes that were still in William's room. He had been instructed to study and did not appear all that pleased with the idea but could not argue since his mother would be lurking in his room and he could hardly get out of it. I went up to my room and grabbed the dress alongside the other bits and returned to the dining room.

The plates and leftover food had already been cleared when I returned – Shelia and Mrs Langdon seemed to work rather quickly when it came to clearing up. I spread the dress out on the table and chewed on the inside of my cheek as I tried to figure out the steps I needed to take before I could even consider adding the embellishments. It definitely resembled more of a dress then it had the night before, but it was still a long way off looking like a real dress.

I continued with the stitching from the night before until the pad of my thumb had been stabbed so many times that I no longer had any feeling in it. When I paused for a few minutes, I took another look at the dress which definitely resembled more of a dress but I did not know if it would even fit me, regardless of the added space I left just in case I happened to grow a little more. The only way I would know for sure would be to put it on, but I did not want to accidentally tear the stitching and have to start all over again.

"Well, it looks more like a dress then it did last night," William said, appearing the doorway.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying?"

"Yes, but Mother said I could take a break and I thought I would come down and annoy you. That's the perk of you living with us, I have someone to annoy whenever I get bored."

"You're always bored."

"Exactly." He smiled. "How are you getting on?"

"Well, it's like you said, it looks more like a dress then it did yesterday."

"When do you think you'll be done by?"

I shrugged. "I doubt I'll be done by Friday. It's been years since I made a dress and it is safe to say that I'm a tad rusty."

"Not bad for the first attempt after six years. Maybe you should take up James' offer about potentially working in his shop."

"Hm, maybe."

"William! That's long enough!"

"Coming!"

William rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the doorframe before disappearing out into the hallway. I listened to his footsteps as he went and turned my attention back to the dress, trying to figure out what my next move was. The entire time I looked at the dress, I could not shake William's comments from my mind and the idea of taking up James' offer had been serious about it.

I did not think he meant it and decided it was nothing more than a passing comment and a joke since he had laughed a little when he said it. William seemed to think it was genuine and if it was, I did not know if I would take it let alone consider it. My dressmaking had been for practicality sake because Matron would not hire someone to make our Sunday best and we had to learn how to mend and darn every piece of clothing we had. I had never considered doing anything more with it.

Like Charity, I had resigned myself to spending my life in service and saving up money until the two of us could find a small place to live together. I never thought I could do something beyond service since being adopted or even considering the idea had never crossed my mind until I met the Atkinsons. They were offering me brand new experiences that I had never had and opportunities to potentially do something I enjoyed and felt like I was good at.

That Atkinsons were offering me more things then I could ever dream of, a chance to be free and have a life that did not revolve around scrubbing someone else's floor or privy. And yet I still doubted whether it was what I wanted. I still had that doubt at the back of my mind created by my foster family, that unwillingness to trust anyone again and I still had my friends to think about. Rosie might have been right in saying that I needed to be the one to make the decision, but I had to take them into account. I could not leave them.

When I returned to the orphanage later in the week, I resolved to talk to Charity about it and see just what she thought about the whole thing. Even with what she said to Sally the night I stayed over with the Atkinsons the first time; I knew she could offer some words of wisdom into an otherwise difficult situation. She could make any hard task seem solvable in seconds and that was what I needed if I would be able to make a decision on just what to do. I needed to make a decision before Christmas.

I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and turned my attention back to the dress, but I could not shake William's comments from my head. Still, I continued to work on the dress until I did not think I could add anything else to it to make it any better. All I could do was hope that it would turn out alright once I started to stitch on the flowers.

"That's coming along nicely," Mr Atkinson said, sliding into the room. I did not even hear him come in.

"Thank you," I said, pulling the needle out of my mouth.

"Have you always wanted to make dresses?"

I shrugged. "This one was the only one I made since Matron gave us a bolt of fabric once when we were younger and believed it was then our responsibility to ensure it had been mended and looked respectful. I was one of the lucky ones who has not grown that much over the years."

"What do those who have grown out of their dresses do?"

"Make do."

"It sounds like you have to do an awful lot of that."

Mr Atkinson took a seat on one of the chairs around the table and watched me smooth out the dress and pull out the paper from the other day where I had drawn the flower designs. I tried to ignore him watching me and focused on deciding which flowers I want to stitch on and how I was going to do them. My plan was to start at the bottom with a trail of stitching to act as the stem and then create the flowers about half-way up the skirts. I had never sewn flowers before, so I had taken a small piece of the leftover fabric to practice on.

I sat down on one of the chairs and threaded the silver thread onto the needle, starting to slowly pierce it through the fabric and try to work my design onto it. It felt almost like I was simply drawing the design onto toe fabric rather than having to do anything too difficult. Perhaps it would not be as hard as I first thought but I had to be careful not to make a mistake. The last thing I wanted to do was end up putting several small holes into the fabric without stitching anything.

"I know you will still be with us for a few more days, but I want you to know how much of a joy it has been to have you. William has always wanted someone else around, someone a tad closer to his own age and the two of you do seem to get on splendidly," Mr Atkinson said.

"He can be annoying," I said.

"Yes, he's always been that way." He chuckled a little. "Matron Webster told us very little about your experiences growing up and I know you have told William, so I hope you will one day trust Lydia and me. I also hope you will come to see that we are nothing like that family you were with before." He paused. "Anyway, I shall leave you to it."

With that, he stood up and left the dining hall before I could say another word or respond to his comments. Mr and Mrs Atkinson had already proved themselves to be far different from my foster family, William himself had become more of a friend than someone to be wary of. I did not think I could seem him as a brother just yet, that would take even more time and even then, I did not know if it would ever happen.

They were nice enough and they had been kind enough to allow me to stay in their home longer than anticipated due to Doctor Ealing's orders. Despite that, I saw them more as friends then family. I still felt out of place and awkward at breakfast and supper, as though I did not truly belong with them at all. Whether that would happen remained to be seen and I certainly did not expect it to happen overnight.

Yet, if it did happen, it would make everything that much harder to figure out when it came to my friends back at the orphanage and how they would react if I decided to leave after so many years of being adamant it would never happen. If the Atkinsons started to feel more like family, how would I possibly decide?

How could I decide between my friends at the orphanage who had been like family to me for years and the Atkinsons?

~~~

First Published - December 16th, 2020