Archive of Our Own

Trottie had always been good at knocking things together. She had a knack for it, since she had been fairly young. Physical or metaphorical, she could solve a problem, fix something, or create something simply by putting her mind to it. Book had his little puzzles to solve, Trottie had hers. Hers were simply more of the physical aspect.

One thing that she had always excelled at--other than the heads, she'd figured that out as soon as she was old enough to decide she didn't want to be bullied--was clothing. Patterns were something that Trottie found useful but not essential. She could study an article of clothing or a picture of it and figure out how to create it herself. She enjoyed it.

She particularly enjoyed it when she used that particular skill to make things for the people that she cared about, pleased with her ability, perhaps more so that most of them didn't know about it, other than Book. Book knew her best, after all, and often observed her at work.

It was a good use of a good skill and Trottie liked spreading it around where she could.

Most people didn't know that Book's favorite sweater vest was reversible. Or that it was actually one garment instead of two. Trottie had made it for him as a birthday gift in the first year of their marriage, finding an old sweater in a shop, something that she knew that Book would love. Except for the fact that it was laughably thin by design and the sleeves were too long even for her long limbed husband, perhaps why it was in the shop in the first place.

So Trottie had purchased some cloth, removed the sleeves of the original sweater, and replicated the pattern, sewing them into one vest, comfortably soft and warm.

Book had laughed with soft eyes when he had unwrapped it.

"I'd wondered what you were doing." he said, running his fingers over it. "It's lovely, Trottie."

Trottie smiled at this, then nudged his knee with her own.

"Try it on, then."

Obediently, Book stood to remove his waistcoat, shrugging it off and draping it carefully over the back of his chair before tugging the sweater vest over his head and settling it comfortably over his shirt.

"Perfect fit, my love." he declared.

Trottie smiled and stood to straighten his tie, Book catching her hand and squeezing it gently before kissing her. She kissed him back.

"I did borrow one of yours to make certain. But you can reverse this one."

Book laughed at this, running his hands over his own chest, seeming pleased with the feel of the fabric, tipping his head to gently nudge it against hers.

"You are clever, Trottie. I wouldn't have guessed by looking at it."

It amused Trottie greatly when he pulled it off to reverse it, admiring the side that she had made herself.

She was touched when she realized that was the side that he preferred as well, and that the vest she made quickly became the one that he favored over the others, remaining extremely well cared for even through the War. No matter what, through the years the first sweater vest she made for him remained Book's favorite and it never failed to make her smile when she noticed him wearing it.

Nora's small stature led to her wearing dreadfully oversized clothes that her uncle provided to her, from the moment she moved on to Archangel Lane.

Trottie delicately suggested to Yusuf that perhaps some alterations would be in order, but he brushed off her worries, seeming to think that since Nora tended to traipse through God-knew-where in her free time and had pins, that it was all in order.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Nora was in the bookshop so frequently that it was easy for Trottie to estimate her measurements. Due to wartime rationing on even cloth and clothing, it was harder to make Nora something from scratch, but second hand shops provided what Trottie wanted for the girl. She spent quite a bit of time at her sewing machine, altering pants and a few shirts.

Book wandered in, wearing his dressing gown over his pajamas, when she was working on a pair of overalls she knew that Nora would like, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"Burning the midnight oil, Mrs. Book?"

"Mmm. I want to surprise Nora with these tomorrow. Did you see the clothes Yusuf has her in? Poor girl has to pin her trousers so they don't drag on the ground. Hand-me-downs from a boy twice her size, I'd wager."

"Nora doesn't seem to mind."

"Not the sweaters, certainly, she likes those. But she deserves trousers she can wear comfortably, since Yusuf doesn't see the problem."

"He has only just taken her in."

"And he can learn."

Trottie supposed she couldn't be too hard on Yusuf, considering the war going on and the fact that Nora had been thrust into his care unexpectedly with nothing but the clothes she'd been wearing in the Blitz. Perhaps Nora didn't care, or felt that she shouldn't given the arrangement, but Trottie did. Nora deserved to have someone care about this, even if she didn't mind.

Nora was shocked when Trottie presented her with the altered clothing, eyes popping wide.

"Mrs. B.... this is wonderful, but it's--"

"Nonsense, Nora."

"Thank you."

Nora surprised her by hugging her and Trottie hugged the girl back, smiling a little, glad that she could do something for her. Nora had lost so much in such a short amount of time. Trottie knew that there were reasons she liked the bookshop more than the restaurant across the street.

It made her smile to see Nora wearing the clothes when she came in after that day, seeming to greatly prefer not having to pin up her trouser legs, and Trottie showed her how to alter her own clothing so she wouldn't have to rely on someone else to do it for her, an activity they both surprisingly enjoyed. Sewing wasn't exactly a keen interest of Nora's, but it was useful and gave her more independence, along with an excuse to stay on their side of the lane a bit longer.

Trottie liked passing along the skill. They both liked the time together. It was an arrangement that suited them both quite well.

Jack came to them with only the contents of his suitcase, most of his clothes respectable and fitting well enough, if lacking in variety. He looked smart in them, that was for certain, but Trottie recognized that his jacket was somewhat lacking when it came to warmth, especially when he came to them in the winter.

It was to be expected, she supposed, but she could fix that. With Jack so newly arrived in their lives, she did wonder if it would be too forward or odd to make him something, but practicality won out. And she wanted to do something for him. He was already so dear to her and Book, for reasons still unsaid.

Besides, everyone needed a good jacket or coat.

So Trottie spent her time figuring out what he might like and what might work and spent quite some time with her sewing machine away from both Jack and Book in the moments she could get alone. She wanted it to be a surprise. She was also quite certain that Jack would try and tell her not to bother if he caught on to what she was doing. He didn't want to rely on people, even them, which she understood. But she could understand and want him to be warm.

She caught him one frosty morning when he was heading to take Dog for a walk, the day after she'd finished it.

"Jack, wait."

He turned, a look on his face suggesting that he thought he may be in trouble for a split second and that hurt Trottie's heart, thinking of the things that he had gone through that would make that his first reaction to someone asking him to hold back unexpectedly.

But he gave her a smile and neither of them acknowledged his initial reaction.

"Just taking Dog out for a walk."

"I know. I thought you might want this. It's cold out this morning."

She lifted the jacket in her arms as she spoke.

"Thanks, Trottie, but I've got my own."

"This is yours, dear."

Jack's brow furrowed and Trottie lifted it up. He looked so innocent, so confused, then seemed to put the dots together when he realized what she was holding wasn't one of Book's coats, to be lent out for the walk and then returned.

"Oh. Uh, thank you, but--"

"No point arguing with her, Jack. She's already made up her mind."

Book strolled in from the kitchen, pipe between his teeth, looking amused by the situation. Trottie hoped that it didn't seem like they were bullying him into it. Poor Jack looked awkward and flustered, still not used to a kind gesture despite his time on Archangel Lane. She doubted that anyone had ever given him a gift like this.

"All right, then. I'll try it on."

Trottie helped him into it and Jack flexed his shoulders, seeming surprised by how well the jacket settled over them, the sleeves hitting just right, because Trottie had borrowed his usual to make certain she had the measurements right. Jack was long and gangly, like Book, but she'd wanted to make sure.

"Fits beautifully." he said.

"I'm glad. I can let it out if it needs, but I thought I got it right."

That surprised look returned and Jack ran his fingers down the lapels before looking back up at her.

"You made this for me?"

Trottie nodded as Dog shifted in his seat, clearly finding their human activities to be somewhat lacking in interest when there was a whole walk outside ahead of him that was being delayed by them.

"Trottie, that's--" Jack puffed out a breath.

She smiled at him.

"I told you. I'm good at knocking things together."

"Thank you."

He buttoned up the front, pulled on his hat, and grabbed Dog's lead, giving them an almost awkward wave on his way out, making Trottie chuckle.

They didn't discuss the jacket, except for Trottie waving away Jack's attempts to thank her again later in the day. She was just glad that he'd accepted it. She hoped that in the future he got more used to people being kind to him, especially in ways that he wasn't used to. Jack kept using the jacket, they came to a silent understanding, and that was that.

Dog did not require clothing, nor did he seem to have much interest in it. Which was just as well. Trottie would have loathed having to fight him if he'd taken in interest on chewing on any of her fabrics or projects. She didn't mind the honey colored hairs that she had to brush off of them, especially not when they got there by Dog keeping her company while she sewed.

Dog was Book's, through and through, but he did care about Trottie as she did him. Sometimes when she was sitting at her sewing machine, working on something or other, he would come in to curl at her feet or rest his great head in her lap. Wanting to keep her company, nothing more. Of course, Dog appreciated the pets and scratches Trottie gave him when he did wander in.

Trottie sorted through the scrap fabric she had collected into a basket, wondering if she had enough to perhaps make a patchwork quilt. She had no other use for the scraps. A patchwork jacket wouldn't be to Book's taste. Or Nora's. She doubted it would be to Jack's either. He didn't seem the type.

Dog came trotting in, tail wagging, and sat directly between Trottie's feet, resting his head in her lap on top of some of the scraps. She laughed and stroked his nose, plucking the fabric out from under him with her free hand.

"I don't need you making a mess of these."

Dog's tail simply thumped against her basket. Trottie rested the scrap of fabric she'd pulled from beneath him against his fur. It looked rather smart, in her opinion.

In the end, that was all it took for Dog to walk out with a patchwork bowtie attached to his collar, sewn so that it hung straight. It made him look even more dignified than usual. Trottie was fairly certain he knew it as well, the way he walked ahead of her, no doubt to find Book.

Perhaps it was slightly silly to put the effort into something like that, but Trottie didn't care. She liked making things like this for the people she cared about and that included Dog.

Book, Jack, and Nora all laughed when they saw Dog in his bowtie, Book complimenting the canine before catching Trottie gently around the waist to give her a kiss. Trottie smiled into it and leaned against him with her hand on his chest, noticing idly he was wearing his favorite sweater vest.