‘It is while I’m on duty!’
‘I thought the war was fought to stop dictators like you from bullying the rest of us.’
‘The war was fought to defend democracy and our freedom to respect the rules that make life fairer for everyone!’ She’d learnt that from Mr Butler who was a friend of Lady Constance. He’d been a pilot with the RAF and had lost a leg when his plane had been shot down by the Luftwaffe in the Battle of Britain. He came in twice a week to teach them history. He wasn’t a proper teacher, but the boys loved hearing his stories about the war and of the planes he’d shot down and the girls stared at him all dreamy-eyed because they thought he was so handsome. Even if he did only have one leg.
‘There’s nothing about life that is fair,’ the ungrateful boy said. ‘If life was fair, we wouldn’t be here.’
‘There are worse places you could be,’ she said, her tone now softened.
For a few moments he remained silent. ‘If I said sorry, would you let me borrow the book?’
‘I might, if it was a genuine apology.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
As sullen as he sounded, she decided to accept his apology. Taking the book he wanted, she carried it over to Mrs Mackenzie’s desk, pulled out a drawer and found a library card for him. ‘How do you spell Lucien?’ she asked.
‘L U C I E N,’ he spelt out for her, joining her at the desk.
In her best handwriting, she wrote his name in the spaceprovided and beside that in another columnThe Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. She then wrote his name on a small buff-coloured ticket. ‘This is yours,’ she said, handing it to him, ‘keep it somewhere safe.’ With a flourish – she always enjoyed doing this part – she stamped the book and gave it to him.
‘Thank you,’ he said, clutching the book to his chest as though it were the most precious thing in the world. ‘And I meant it when I said I was sorry.’
‘Good,’ she said and being faithful to Lady Constance’s instruction, she added, ‘time for tea now. You’ll learn that it’s better not to be late.’
‘Yet more rules?’
‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘it’s good manners to be on time.’
‘Are you always so—’
‘So what?’ she prompted when he broke off.
‘So grown up?’
‘Better that than being a stupid idiot who can’t read properly unless his nose is pressed against the bookshelf!’
‘I’m not stupid!’ he said. ‘It’s because … because I can’t see properly.’
That stopped Venetia in her tracks. ‘What do you mean you can’t see properly?’
‘Now who’s being stupid by being unable to understand plain English?’
‘But if you can’t see, how are you going to read that book?’
‘I can manage,’ he said tersely. ‘If I hold it up close.’
‘Why don’t you wear spectacles, then?’
‘I had some but … but they got broken.’
‘When was that?’
‘Ages ago.’
‘So you need new ones? Have you told Lady Constance?’
‘No. And anyway, it doesn’t matter because I won’t be here for long. When she’s better, my mum will come for me.’
