Clover Moon Read online

  ‘That’s one of Mr Rivers’s drawings!’ I exclaimed.

  ‘You are absolutely right! So how do you know that? You can’t possibly read his signature from the doorway,’ said Miss Smith.

  ‘I know just how he draws! Mr Rivers came down Cripps Alley and drew all of us. He drew my sister! My little sister, who’s only just died. I’d give the whole world to see that drawing again, it was so like her!’ I said. ‘I miss her so.’

  I had to use the already damp lace handkerchief again. Miss Smith shut the door to her inner sanctum, guided me to a chair, sat me down and waited quietly until I’d finished weeping.

  ‘There now,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to carry on crying I’m going to need a handkerchief as big as a sheet to cope with your tears.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumbled, sniffing.

  ‘I understand how distressing it must be to lose your sister. My own sister is very dear to me. I am pleased that Miss Ainsley is allowing you to wear your beautiful mourning dress for a while. It was very kind of her because we have strict rules that all girls must wear uniform while they are here. But I don’t think you are repaying poor Miss Ainsley with polite and grateful behaviour!’

  I sniffed again and bent my head.

  ‘I hope that’s a sign of remorse,’ Miss Smith said. ‘Poor Miss Ainsley. She is very shocked. She is such a good woman and she tries her hardest to help all the girls who come here, but she has declared you one of the most challenging she has encountered so far. She is worried that you might be a bad influence on the others.’

  My head shot upwards. ‘That’s so unfair! I have been a positively good influence on Jane – just ask Sissy!’

  ‘Yes, I know. Sissy says you have a very calming effect on poor Jane. She says you have a remarkable way with the little ones. I’m sure you’ll prove a very capable assistant for her. But first you must learn to get on with poor Miss Ainsley,’ said Miss Smith.

  ‘I tried! I put up my hand whenever I spoke to her. I kept saying her name, even though she obviously knows her own name so it seems pointless,’ I said.

  ‘Miss Ainsley is simply trying to teach you normal classroom etiquette. All the girls have to learn how to conduct themselves when they come here. Now tell me, did you really say to Miss Ainsley that our dear Lord Jesus was’ – she lowered her voice to a whisper – ‘a witch?’

  ‘Well, she kept telling us about these miracles and said it was like magic and so I thought he might have been. I didn’t realize she’d get so upset,’ I said.

  ‘You truly didn’t intend to be blasphemous?’

  ‘No. Well, I don’t actually know what blasphe-thingy is,’ I admitted, shame-faced.

  ‘It’s not a crime to be ignorant, Clover. You’re clearly intelligent and articulate, and your writing skills are exemplary. I’ve just been looking at your test downstairs. But you have a great deal to learn about Our Lord. I suggest you pay attention in Bible Study and stay humbly silent while absorbing new knowledge.’ Miss Smith looked at me. ‘Clover?’

  I sat still.

  ‘Clover, are you listening to me?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Smith. But I’m practising being humbly silent,’ I replied.

  Miss Smith stared at me and then smiled, shaking her head. ‘I have no idea whether you are being obedient or impertinent, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. However, I do know that you drew a very unkind caricature of poor Miss Ainsley in your notebook and it upset her very much.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to upset her. It was a good portrait, very like,’ I insisted.

  ‘Oh, come, Clover. Miss Ainsley told me you portrayed her as a mouse!’

  ‘But it was a fully-clothed, very sweet little mouse, simply with Miss Ainsley’s features,’ I insisted. ‘I thought she might find it amusing.’

  I hadn’t thought any such thing, I’d only been intent an amusing myself, but I didn’t like Miss Smith being severe with me. She was frowning now, and her look made me wriggle on my chair.

  ‘Yes, well may you squirm, Clover. You know perfectly well that it’s unkind to mock someone’s appearance. Miss Ainsley is very sensitive about the fact that she’s short in stature.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to mock her. I hate it when folk are teased because of the way they look. My dearest friend Mr Dolly has a very crooked back and I can’t bear it when people call him names. And Jimmy Wheels is my other good friend, and his legs don’t work properly so he has to shunt himself around on a board with wheels – that’s how he got his name – and the children in our alley used to torment him, but I soon put a stop to that,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear it, Clover. I can see that you are a good kind girl at heart. You remind me of another tempestuous child I’ve taken under my wing,’ said Miss Smith.

  ‘A child here?’ I asked, wondering if there might be another girl in the dormitory who could possibly turn out to be a friend.

  ‘No, no, she lives in another institution but I visit her from time to time. I take her out to tea occasionally. Her name is Hetty. I think you’ll like her. Shall we make a special bargain, Clover? If you apologize profusely to Miss Ainsley, work diligently at Bible Study, help Sissy with the little ones and do your best to get along with the girls in your dormitory, I will invite you out to tea too. Is that a deal?’ asked Miss Smith. She held out her hand for us to shake on it.

  My arm wavered. My fist was clenched.

  ‘Oh dear! You’re clearly hesitating,’ she said.

  ‘Could I possibly beg an extra favour?’ I asked.

  ‘It depends what it is.’

  ‘Can I have a peep at Mr Rivers’s picture in your secret study every now and then? I know it’s not a sketch of Megs, but it reminds me of her, and the way we all played together in the alley,’ I said.

  ‘Of course you may come and look at it whenever you feel the need,’ said Miss Smith. ‘Now, I dare say the other girls are having their mid-morning break. You’d better run and join them.’

  I still hesitated. I didn’t know how to thank her. When Mr Dolly had been especially kind to me I’d kissed him on the cheek, but I could see that this was out of the question with Miss Smith. Instead I bobbed her a clumsy curtsy and then made for the door.

  ‘Clover?’ said Miss Smith as I was on my way out. ‘One last thing!’

  ‘Yes, Miss Smith?’

  ‘If you were naughty enough to do a caricature of me, which animal would you choose?’

  I looked at her long white locks, her big brown eyes, her long nose, her large stature. I thought of Mick the Milk with his cart and his faithful friend Daisy, who snickered softly whenever any child offered her a stump of carrot.

  ‘I think I’d draw you as a big white horse,’ I said.

  ‘Clover Moon! You’re incorrigible!’ Miss Smith exclaimed, but when I closed her door I heard her laughing.

  I didn’t wish to join the other girls at their play. I crept into the dormitory, went to my cupboard and felt carefully for Anne Boleyn, unwrapping the shawl and then tipping her gently out of the pillowcase on to my bed. She was as bright and perfect as ever, even after her hazardous adventures.

  I held her close, stroking her smooth head, then shaking my own hair forward so that it looked as if she’d suddenly grown long black hair.

  ‘Oh my! Do you think it suits you, Anne Boleyn?’ I asked.

  She tossed her head from side to side, considering, then told me she thought it would be too much trouble having to brush it every day.

  ‘You’re absolutely right,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I’ll cut off all my hair and then I won’t have to brush mine either.’

  I thought of poor little Pammy, whose brutal father had cut off her hair.

  ‘Do you think I’ll ever make friends with Pammy, or will she always shrink away from me?’ I asked Anne Boleyn.

  She said I would definitely become her friend but it would take time – Pammy’s heart wasn’t easily won because she was sad.

  ‘You’re very wise,