Hetty Pov

There comes a time at the Foundling Hospital where change is imminent. The departure of foundlings into the real world was one of both excitement and fear. As our time was nearing its end, lessons were cancelled and instead we found ourselves emerged in more practical work.

It had suddenly dawned on me that if I didn't find a placement suited to my gifts, I would find myself lost in the harsh world of Victorian civilisation. Of course, writing was my true talent- yet there wasn't much support for female writers. If I even wanted a hope at becoming a writer, I needed to start from the bottom and work hard.

Thus, in the few weeks leading up to our departure, I strived to work hard and grab every opportunity I had. I tried to improve my darning, my cleaning and my punctuality. I'd even sacrificed spending precious time with my friends, after all, I wouldn't have any time to spend if I didn't start making an effort.

It was one such day, when I was helping Cook and Sheila in the kitchen. Sheila and I had become closer over the weeks, since Elizabeth had left and I realised that we weren't too different. I think we all understood, that now was the time to get over any petty problems we'd had in the past. If we wanted to make it out of this place, we had to stick together.

But some things would never change.

"Hetty! Put some muscle into it, otherwise you'll be kneading that all day!" Sheila barked at me. She'd assigned me the tiresome task of kneading and truth be told, the sheer amount of labour I had taken on was taking its toll on me. I sighed wanting to yell at her, but knew it was pointless. I was hopeless. I tried to keep a positive attitude, but however hard I tried, I could never be a good maid.

"Yeah Hetty, don't be such a weakling!"

I clenched my jaw. Him.

"Why are you here?" Sheila asked, raising a brow. Most of the boys were training for the army, and that included Vince.

"Cook asked me to tell you that there's going to be a delivery.."

Sheila gasped, raising her floured hand to her head.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I need to go and wait.. um.. Vince do you mind, helping Hetty?"

"Well.."

"Thank you!"

Great. Since the whole blackmailing Nurse Winterson incident, I'd been avoiding Vince like the plague. He got to work on the jam beside me in silence. I saw him sneak glances at me from the corner of my eye. He seemed to want to make amends, but too much had happened.

"Hetty, do you want some help with that?" he asked quietly.

"I don't need help"

He backed off, and we continued to work in silence. I was making a right mess of things, but I wouldn't beg for his help, even if he was the last man on the planet. I glanced towards the door, hoping Sheila would return.

Suddenly, I felt hands slide up my wrists.

"Look, it's not hard, you just push inwards like this.."

"What..?!" I trailed taken aback. With Vince's assistance, the lump in front of me started to resemble dough. My arms were burning but Vince continued to control my arms until the dough seemed ready to be baked.

I smiled despite myself. The only thing that had held me back was my stubborn nature and my pessimism. Relaxing, I became overly aware of the fact that Vince was still standing right behind me, his hands on mine, his breath tickling my neck.

He didn't let go.

Clearing my throat, he finally got the message and backed off looking sheepish. Trying to recover, I picked up the board with the dough and almost crashed into him.

I stepped to the left to move out the way, but it turned out he had the same idea in mind.

"Sorry" we both yelped at the same time. This was too weird. I awkwardly moved to the right, but he held onto my board.

"I-I'll do it" he stated guiltily, slowly taking the board from me and placing the dough in the oven. I watched him, feeling my mouth go dry. I'd never realised how intoxicating his creamy, brown eyes were.

Oh no. I was falling for him, and fast.

"Right, I'm back..." Sheila trailed as we both spun round to face her guiltily. She frowned suspiciously.

"What are you doing?"

"We.. I.." I stammered.

"Hetty's finished making the dough, it's in the oven.." Vince covered for me.

"Already?" she asked not quite believing me. She went over and checked the oven.

"I guess you're not that bad of a cook after all!" she smiled as Vince left the room. I knew that he was a liar and could be really horrible at times. But when he helped me without complaint, I supposed he wasn't so bad after all.


"Hetty! You're dreaming again.. what has gotten into you?"

Harriet was explaining her plans in America again, and somehow my mind had drifted off again to Vince. I couldn't help it. For some reason I'd started to see him in an attractive, angelic light- though I knew he was far from being an angel.

"Sorry.." I began, but I couldn't tell her the real reason for being so distant.

"What's wrong?" she asked concerned, "Is it Ida?"

"No.." I began.

"Then? Come on Hetty, you can tell me anything!"

I turned to meet her pleading gaze and realised how close she was with Mathias. They hated Vince, and I thought I did too. I couldn't tell her.

"Sorry!"

I quickly got up and grabbed our empty bowls to take them to Cook, with Harriet exclaiming in protest behind me. I bumped headfirst into an obstacle, and the bowls went flying onto the floor. Fortunately, they didn't smash.

Bending down to pick them up, I felt a hand enclose over mine.

"We really should stop meeting like this.." he stated quietly, smiling mischievously. My jaw dropped in shock. Just my luck.

I stood up hastily, subconsciously trying to make myself look presentable. I felt my cheeks reddening as I struggled to keep up the façade.

"Just... leave me alone!" I stomped off with the bowls towards the kitchen. He'd turned me into a stammering idiot, in front of everyone! How dare he!

Depositing the bowls, I turned to find Harriet smiling knowingly.

"So, when were you going to tell me you fancied Vince?"

That's the trouble with living with your best friend. You can't keep any secrets.