Clover Moon Read online

  She was a while in the kitchen, and then she came and opened the door a crack. She had her apron tied round her head again. ‘Clover? Clover, are you awake? Answer me, child, for pity’s sake!’

  I kept quiet, just to plague her.

  ‘Clover! Oh my Lord, have you gone and died on us?’ she shrieked.

  ‘Yes, and I’m going to haunt you for the rest of my days!’ I said, in as ghostly a voice as I could.

  ‘You wicked girl, don’t you dare play tricks on me! Now keep away from me, right at the back of the cupboard. Here’s a cup of tea and a slice of bread. You’ve got the jam in there with you. I’m putting them just inside the door. You take them quick.’

  ‘Can’t you leave the door open just a little, so I can have some light? I promise I’ll stay at the back,’ I begged. ‘It’s just so hard when I can’t see anything at all.’

  ‘You’ll just have to put up with it,’ said Mildred.

  ‘What if I’m taken bad and need to get out?’

  ‘You can call out.’

  ‘But you might not hear me,’ I said, panicking.

  ‘That’s true,’ said Mildred quietly. She shut the door with a bang.

  I felt like screaming but I put my hands over my mouth. I didn’t want to give her the pleasure of knowing I was desperate – and if Megs heard it would terrify her. I moved cautiously, inch by inch, because I didn’t want to spill my hot tea or set that chunk of bread spinning into a dank corner. I found the cup and drank the tea. I found the bread and ate every crumb, dipping it into my pot of jam.

  Then I folded the blanket round me and tried to compose myself. Only I wasn’t myself any more. I made up a story inside my head: I was a fairy-tale princess and my wicked stepmother had locked me in the castle dungeon and thrown the key down the deepest well.

  5

  I PLAYED MY captive princess game on and off until her life seemed more real than my own. I started violently each time Mildred opened the door of the cupboard, shrinking from her as if she really had locked me in for ever. I lost all sense of time, not sure whether it was night or not, or how long I’d been locked in there.

  ‘Can’t you let me out now?’ I begged.

  ‘Not just yet. We have to be certain sure you won’t infect the others. It’s a virulent strain of fever. The Watson baby’s dead already,’ said Mildred.

  ‘Baby Tommy!’ I gasped.

  ‘They’ve sent the little Watson girl away in case she gets poorly too.’ Mildred’s voice was muffled by her apron but she sounded as if she might be crying. She paused, and then blurted out, ‘I know I’ve sometimes been hard on you, Clover. But it’s for your own good. I do truly wish you well.’

  I was astonished to hear her talking in that way. Perhaps she thought I was actually dying and she didn’t want me telling tales to God and his angels.

  I couldn’t decide if I had the fever or not. I felt very strange and light-headed, but then, who wouldn’t be, locked in a pitch-black cupboard for days? My head hurt sometimes, but I’d always been prone to headaches and my brow was already sore from Mildred’s blows. My heart was sore too. Why hadn’t Megs been back to see how I was?

  I knew I’d told her not to come near me. I’d made her promise to keep away. She was simply being obedient and sensible. But surely she might have crept back once, just to make sure I was all right?

  The other children had come. Jenny and Mary had both whispered to me through the door. Jenny brought Bert too. He cried when he heard my voice, and I cried too because I couldn’t come out and cuddle him. Richie and Pete ran up to the cupboard door whenever Mildred took her eye off them.

  I heard their feet thudding as they pushed and shoved each other, hissing, ‘You go first!’ ‘No, you!’ It was as if I’d turned into a terrifying witch and they had to dare each other to come near.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, boys! I’m still your sister Clover! I’ve just got to stay in the cupboard to stop you getting sick,’ I called.

  They squealed and ran away as if scared I was casting a witch’s curse – but Pete soon crept back on his own.

  ‘Is it really you in there, Clover?’ he whispered.

  ‘Yes, of course it is.’

  ‘Will you promise you won’t get the fever?’

  ‘I’m trying my hardest,’ I said.

  ‘Is it just babies who die of the fever?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so,’ I said, my heart beating fast. ‘Poor little Tommy.’

  ‘Mrs Watson cried and cried when they said her Tommy was dead. She said it was all her fault. They think the baby must have caught it from the shawl she bought from the clothes stall. It has to be burned now. All baby Tommy’s things have to be burned.’

  ‘The shawl?’ I said. I suddenly thought of Megs draping the shawl round her head, pretending to be a bride. My heart turned over.

  ‘If you die, Clover, will all your things have to be burned too? Can I have your boots?’ Pete persisted.

  ‘I’m not going to die, do you hear? Listen, tell me about Megs. Is she all right?’

  ‘She keeps crying for you,’ said Pete. ‘She’s cried so much her voice has gone all funny.’

  When I heard Mildred coming I crawled to the cupboard door. I didn’t care how big and strong she was. I didn’t mind if she beat me black and blue. I had to go to Megs.

  ‘Mildred, I’m coming out,’ I said, wedging myself in the gap as soon as the door opened.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, girl,’ said Mildred. ‘Get back now. Don’t come near me!’

  ‘Put your apron over your face – put one over my head too if you must, but I have to come out. I’ve been shut in that cupboard for days and I haven’t got the fever. Take a look at me. I’m fine. But Megs isn’t. I hear she’s been crying.’

  ‘She’s always crying,’ said Mildred. ‘No, you’ve to stay in there another day at least, just to make sure.’

  ‘Please, Mildred! For pity’s sake, please!’ I tried to force my way out, but Mildred slammed the door hard on my thigh, making me scream.

  ‘Hey, hey, watch her leg!’ Pa called.

  It was Sunday! He was home!

  ‘Let the girl out now, Mildred,’ he said. ‘It don’t seem right to keep her locked up like that. I’ve been talking with the lads down the Admiral. They say the fever takes two days to come out, three at the most. I reckon our Clover can’t have got it, not if she’s still doing fine now.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Let her out, I say,’ Pa insisted, with an edge to his voice.

  Mildred seized me by the wrist and pulled me out into the hallway. Then she let go of me sharpish. ‘Dear God, she’s bleeding all over the place – look!’ she cried, backing away from me.

  Pa was staring at me, horrified. I blinked, trying to get used to the daylight, and peered down at myself. There were clotted red stains all down my arms and smeared across my nightgown. Was this why it was called scarlet fever? Did I have it after all? I tentatively touched a red smear and then licked my fingertip.

  ‘Ugh! Don’t be so disgusting!’ Mildred shrieked.

  ‘It’s jam, Mildred. It’s not blood, it’s strawberry jam! I must have spilled it all over myself in the dark,’ I said.

  ‘You stupid clumsy girl. How dare you give us a fright like that!’

  ‘Calm down, Mildred. Don’t get yourself so het up,’ said Pa. ‘Come here, Clover. Let’s have a squint at you in proper daylight.’

  He took me down the hall to the door and opened it. In the alley the children were playing a listless game of kick the can. They all waved and cheered when they saw me and came rushing over.

  ‘Keep back for a minute!’ Pa called, putting out his hand to stop them approaching. Then he peered at my face and neck and felt my forehead.

  ‘She’s absolutely fine,’ he called to Mildred. ‘No fever at all. Nothing a good wash won’t cure. Clean yourself up, Clover. Thank God you’ve been spared!’

  ‘Thank God, thank God, thank God!’ little Mary cried,