Saturday morning starts early. My evening last night turned out to be quite busy, happy hours spent chatting with Violet, so no pink dress yet. I should be able to finish it for tomorrow—I can always sew while I talk if she comes for another “tea party”. The Yule presents I’ll bring tomorrow. If I handed them over today, it would pressure them to bring something for me tomorrow, wouldn’t it?

Weekend meals more lax, I don’t see Violet there. I don’t know if she would sit with me if she comes, but the chance alone is enough to take the loneliness away from eating by myself.

(Maid) Len is here as always when I finish breakfast and go back to my room to change. A very professional maid. I hoped she may become familiar with me, but she hasn’t and I won’t force her to. It’s obviously a stressful enough job without some eccentric lady trying to make you behave inappropriately (even if “inappropriate” means, say, talking about your plans for Yule).

My umbrella earns its keep on the way into town, keeping away the drizzle. I think I would be fine with just my coat, but I’d have to spend some time drying my hair, far too cold this time for year to be damp. Maybe I need a water-resistant cap too?

As per the new usual, we go straight to Lottie’s house and meet her and Gwen there, Len heading back. I really wanted to offer her my umbrella, trying to think of some way to make it seem like I was giving her an order. A, “Carry this back to my room for me,” sort of thing. But I’m sure I would merely make her more uncomfortable than the thin drizzle.

I hoped the weather would be nice enough for me to spend the rest of my pay for the last month. That obviously not the case, we hang around the house instead. It’s not that bad, giving me the chance to tell her that I’ve made up with Violet.

“Oh bless, I’m so happy for you,” Lottie says, tearing up.

Her reaction puts me on the back foot, not expecting so much.

“The two of you always had such fun, didn’t you? I remember how Beth would moan when mistress told us miss Violet would be visiting. Such trouble, yet hearing the two of you giggle would clear away any annoyance…. Ah, it really takes me back.”

Oh, right, Lottie was around back then but left before I started attending Queen Anne’s. The Violet she knew, a young girl who always pouted and talked harshly and—wait, that’s the same Violet as now, isn’t it?

I nudge Lottie to share her nostalgia for a while, then I catch up with Gwen, helping her with her Sunday school reading and look at her sewing and all those little things. And I think, this was how small Violet and I were when Lottie started working at the manor. It’s no wonder she always had tea parties with me—there’s no way I could ever turn down Gwen if she asked. “What’s that, the Queen herself has invited me? Sorry, I already have plans.”

Gwen and I share one umbrella on the walk to the café while Lottie follows behind with another, shaking her head as we kick stones into puddles and balance along the edges of the pavement.

The workday starts slow, bad weather keeping clients away. Not to be rude, but Ladies (capital L) are rather soft and easily deterred, so it’s mostly the middle-class women who turn up. As such, I’m rather light on work today.

However, a group from my school turns up for lunch—a familiar group.

“Ladies Challock, Lenham, Dover and Horsham. Miss Ellie will attend to you,” Neville says.

While I greet them and lead them to a table, I do wonder if Violet asked to tag along or if Lady Challock or Lady Lenham asked her if she wanted to come. This timing is a bit, well, I don’t mind, so it’s not worth thinking about.

In the end, the only difference from when she visited before is that she doesn’t look at me as much. I used to notice her often glancing my way, but I guess there’s no need now she knows for sure it’s me.

Oh but, when it comes to dessert, she tries not to have any. I know better than to let her go through an afternoon without something sweet.

“If I may suggest the pound cake to mistress,” I politely say, my head inclined.

She stares at me, her gaze hot on my face as she gives me such a look, and I can hear her cursing me in her head. Something like, “Why are you drawing attention to yourself?” But she quickly relents as if realising that prolonging the moment only draws more attention to me.

“Very well,” she says lightly.

I smile to myself on the way to the kitchen. Since the food doesn’t keep (or can’t be sold if, for example, misshapen), I’ve had my fair share of leftovers at the end of the day. The pound cake here reminds me of the ones Beth made. Given how much Violet liked those ones, I just know she’ll love this one.

And so I watch closely as she eats, so very pleased with myself when I see how clean her plate is, barely a crumb left.

At the end of my shift, the weather has somewhat settled into only being overcast. Using up the last of the daylight, Lottie and Gwen are kind enough to take me to a couple of fabric stores. I buy some smaller pieces to make accessories from, and then large pieces for dresses: baby blue (my favourite colour) and cream and an earthy maroon.

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Back at the school, I finish off my pink dress by supper. Well, I have all these thoughts of changes I could make floating around my head as I walk to the dining hall, but it’s wearable. Lost in thought, I sit down and start eating without taking notice of anything going on.

Then I’m pulled back to the room by a certain clearing of the throat as someone sits down next to me. Violet doesn’t say anything, but I appreciate her company, dragging out the last of my food to make the most of the moment.

Once more back in my room, I don’t expect Violet to come for tea again today. I want her to, but I’m not the sort of person to set unreasonable expectations of people. She didn’t say she would and I didn’t ask her to. Let’s leave it as a welcome surprise when it happens, right?

Of course, the first order of business is trying on the dress, quickly changing out of my school uniform for the second time today. It’s a little awkward making dresses without zippers, but I do have that little button on the neckline at the back. I mean, it has long sleeves and the neckline is high and the back closed, so it’s pretty much like trying to get on a shirt. A good fit and easy to put on? Not that simple, even with the button for the neckline.

But the struggle is entirely worth it when I see myself in the mirror. Though I changed back into my uniform and brushed out my hair, I didn’t wipe off my makeup. Quickly fiddling, I put my hair up and use a slip of the same fabric as the dress to tie it in place.

Yes, it’s a nice colour on me, almost like I’m covered in a light blush. A cute look. Somewhat childish, yet the more shapely silhouette (compared to my green dress) makes it seem… very adolescent. A pure-white innocence tainted pink by the sorts of red-blooded urges teenaged girls have.

Okay, I’m getting a bit carried away.

Other than whatever that was, I think the pale shade complements my skin tone, and in particular the touch of red helps my hair look less grey and more blonde. That might be all in my head, though.

A knock on my door stops me. The time, it’s definitely not tea. “Who is it?” I ask.

“Me.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, it looks like I don’t have to change. “Come in.”

Violet quickly lets herself in, I guess eager not to be spotted visiting me. I say that, but it doesn’t hurt me, understanding of the situation. Taking things slow is fine by me.

Besides, I’m way more excited to see her reaction, grinning oh so wide as I watch her.

She turns around, looks at me, and her face sort of falls apart. Her usual near-scowl opens up into a confused mouth, her eyes widen only to soon narrow, and then it’s like a fish hook pulls at the corner of her mouth, tugging up and over. It’s an expression that perfectly represents: “What?”

“Do you like it?” I ask, gently turning this way and that to make the end of the dress billow.

“Is that—yesterday?” she asks, looking only more confused.

Oh no, she… does know that it was inside out last night, doesn’t she?

The short of it is that she reluctantly admits it looks nice, and so I gently bully her into wearing my green dress. (She’s taller than me, but otherwise a similar build—the bust maybe a bit roomy for her.) While it shows off her ankles and wrists more than it should, it does fit. I follow up by redoing her makeup and hair. It’s the weekend, so we have to dress up, right?

I’m sure the maid who brings the evening tea won’t soon forget the sight of Violet valiantly trying not to blush through her foundation, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

Credit to Violet, she plays along with me even if she fusses the whole time. While she changes back into her uniform in the bathroom, I get to adding the touch-ups to the pink dress, afterwards moving on to checking over the gifts for my friends in town.

And we talk all sorts of nonsense. I tell of my meetings with the princes and she scolds me for being so brazen, and we discuss visiting each other over the break. Remembering earlier in the day, I share some of the nostalgia Lottie left with me, reminding Violet of all the trouble we caused. Well, as she rightly points out, it was mostly me dragging her into trouble, but she can’t deny it when I say, “Yet you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”

The next morning, I slowly go through the list I wrote out in my school diary to make sure I’m not forgetting anything. I don’t see Violet at breakfast, but that’s something I’ve still not spoken with her about. I mean, I told her how lonely I feel eating alone, but I’ve not asked her to sit with me at meals or that sort of thing. I don’t want to pressure her or rush her, one step at a time.

Afterwards, I go back and get changed—into my pink dress. Oh I can’t help but smile, so excited.

It’s a little disappointing that (maid) Len doesn’t react when I greet her. A real professional. And it’s also a little disappointing I’ll only see Lottie and Gwen after my shift, but I don’t drag my feet. I do make a detour, though, buying biscuits to put in the handkerchiefs.

At the café, I’m finally treated to the adoring looks and words of praise I’ve been waiting for—how shallow of me. Iris loves my dress, Millie can’t believe I sewed it all myself, Annie is jealous, and (café) Len jokingly asks what I charge for wedding dresses. Ah, Terri’s at church, isn’t she? I hope she stops by before the end of the day, wanting her opinion.

That moment quickly passes as we turn to working. It’s a busier day, the weather glum but dry; no Violet, though. It’s completely slipped my mind that I brought gifts for everyone until it’s time to change, my handbag noticeably heavier than usual.

“Um, I made, no, sewed these handkerchiefs and bought some biscuits—for Yule,” I say, stumbling over my words. I didn’t think I’d need to practise presenting them.

Despite my poor show, they coo over them, Millie and Annie eagerly helping themselves to the sweets while Len thanks me for the “wedding gift”.

“You know, this fabric is really nice,” Iris says as she just rubs the handkerchief between her thumb and forefinger. “It’ll be hard to match it.”

Oops, I forgot that, well, these handkerchiefs are ones from home and probably rather expensive. Bringing my hands together, the awkward words really don’t want to come out. “That is, you don’t have to worry since I’m going to stay with family until the new year.”

There’s a moment of silence, everyone turning to look at me, and then practically as one they shout, “What?”

I freeze for a second and then… Neville didn’t tell them? Oh that cheeky—I guess I have to. So I tell them that I’m only contracted until today and they are, well, their mix of upset and frantic reactions are touching, quickly trying to work out how to get presents to me.

Once they’ve resolved to send them to me by post, Len asks, “What’s your address?”

And they finally listen to me as I say, “If you leave them with Lottie, she can get them to me.”

What a bunch of… friends. Work friends, but friends.

I double-check that that arrangement is fine with Lottie on the way back, and I treat Gwen to some cake with my pay for the month. (Her wonderful praise of my dress is worth at least that much.) While she’s busy eating, I quietly give Lottie the Yule presents I made for Gwen.

Another good day.