Jem glared at me. "Who is he?" He shouted, holding up the image of Bertie throwing a dart at the fair.
"Jem, that's my..." I hesitated.
"Your what?" He snarled, shoving the image into my face. "Who. Is. He. Hetty!"
"My friend, Jem!" I cried, tears rolling down my face.
"LIAR!" he screamed, throwing the picture back into the bin. He took out a match and struck it against the wall. Then, he threw it into the bucket of memories.
"NO!" I shouted, reaching into the flames to retrieve my pictures. Jem left the room, slamming the door behind him.
I was in a lot of pain, probably first degree burns, but I needed these pictures. They were the only things I had of Bertie.
The fire licked the tips of my fingers. There was one picture left. Just one. My fingers curled around it. I pulled it out, then I remembered the threepenny that I had got when I was with him. I threw my hand back into the metal bin.
I touched it and cried out in pain. It was boiling! Still, I pulled it out and looked at my hands. They didn't look to bad. I rushed to the door and tried it. He had decided to lock me in. The fire was spreading - fast.
I looked at the window. I could squeeze through.
I rushed to it and opened it as wide as it would allow. I climbed through, taking my two favourite photos and my threepenny. I raced round to the front of the building, going back in and shouting.
"Fire! Fire! Everyone get out!" I was shouting out at the top of my lungs. Everyone emerged from classrooms.
They raced through the building, into the early morning air.
Bertie was stood outside the gates, waiting for a cab. He was completely oblivious to what was going on behind him.
I looked at him and felt a pang, telling me I needed him. My green dress - with all my money - was slung over my arm.
I watched as he stepped in one, then waited for the next. I hailed it down.
"To the train station, please." I stated.
I handed over the correct change when I got off and continued to track him down. He was only a few steps in front of me. I paid for my ticket after him and followed him onto the carriage. I sat in the seat behind him.
He watched out of the window the whole journey. I watched him. He turned around and looked at me, right in the eyes, but it was like he looked through me instead of at me.
We got off of the train and I trailed after him , past Jarvis' to Mr Buchanan's. I glanced nervously at the window, but he was cooped up at his desk. He wouldn't be there. I followed him to the area steps and down. I saw Mrs Briskett, and she stared at me - a look of pure confusion. I lifted a finger to my lips and nodded towards Bertie.
"Mrs B what's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, my lad." she sat him at the table, his back to me and shook her head towards the cupboard. I squeezed in.
Rose-May entered the room. "Hello, my husband-to-be!" she glided to him and gave him a great smacking kiss. I had to stop myself from flying at her and killing her there and then.
They had been talking for quite some time, and I was really tired, so I fell asleep inside the cupboard.
I awoke when Bertie had opened the cupboard to get out a mug for his tea.
His scream had woke me up.
"Oh, sweet Jesus!" He had shouted, falling onto his bottom.
I looked up and saw everyone's eyes on me. There was silence, then fast approaching footsteps on the stairs. "Hetty, run!" Mrs Briskett had grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet. I made a quick dash for the door, but Rose-May and Bertie pulled me back.
Rose-May forced me into a seat. "Let me go!" I yelled.
"You have to face the punishment," she whispered into my ear, pinning my flailing arms behind me back.
The door swung open and monkey Mr Buchanan was stood, red in the face.
"HETTY FEATHER!" He exploded. "WHAT IN GODS NAME ARE YOU DOING HERE!"
I shrunk back in my seat as Bertie explained. "Sir, she must have followed me from the Foundling Hospital when I went to give her 'the news'" he made air quotation marks when he said that.
"Ah, yes. Hetty, did they tell you? They have set the date."
"I...I know, Mr Buchanan." I stuttered, looking at my polished boots.
"Shouldn't you be in your Foundling Hospital?" he furrowed his bushy, monkey eyebrows.
"Well, sir, the hospital doesn't exactly mark a spot anymore." I mumbled into my dress.
"What do you mean?" Mrs Briskett and Mr Buchanan simultaneously questioned me, leaning closer to hear my reaction.
"It...It...Burnt down, sir."
"How did that happen?" Bertie asked, astonished, as he had only been there a minute before.
"Jem..." I wiped my eyes.
"What did he do?" Mrs Briskett.
"He found the pictures of me and Bertie, and set them on fire." I took the gloves off of my hands and shown them my burns. "I got these rescuing them from the bucket he had put them in. He had even thrown in the little dog and my threepenny." I shoved the gloves back on. I would go and find a place to stay for the night, pay for a boat for the day and sleep in that.
"Hetty," Mr Buchanan sighed. "I suppose there is a position here for you. You can share with Sarah."
I smiled. "Thank you! Oh, thank you!"
I carried my pictures and threepenny to Sarah's room, all the way in the attic.
She was sat, on the bed, crying, clutching a picture of her mum to her chest. I crouched next to her, and patted her arm. "Sarah what's wrong?"
She took a deep breath, and began her tale.
