The Girl from Vichy - Andie Newton Page 0,24

you’d cause trouble for me, get me kicked out. My goal was to find something in your room to use against you, when the time came. Something… to go along with what I saw near the laundry.’

I blushed the moment I thought about her and that man’s kisses. I wasn’t going to ask her who he was outright, but I wanted to, and I could tell by the look on her face she knew I was curious. I had never seen so much passion before.

‘I see.’ She looked away. ‘Well, you can’t leave here without a proper punishment. If you do the girls will wonder why.’ Her eyes skirted over the things in Mother’s office, over the bookcases and along the walls as she picked some things up and then set them back down.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right about the punishment. ‘What are you thinking?’ I expected her to say I’d have to do lavatory duty for the week.

Marguerite walked to Mother’s coat closet and grabbed a shiny brass hanger that wasn’t being used. She turned on her heel, slapping the hanger into the palm of her hand as if she was about to whack something good—a book, a chair—I didn’t know what.

Then she looked at me.

7

My hands curled up in to my chest, wearing them like a vest. ‘No!’ I said, but Marguerite shook her head and walked slowly toward me.

‘The girls will have a tough time believing you didn’t get expelled as it is. At the very least they’ll expect some whipped knuckles.’ She slapped that damn hanger into her palm.

I took a deep breath, wondering what Papa would think if he knew what I had become: a résistant, about to let a woman whip my hand with a hanger. Mama would wonder why I let her do it when I had a perfectly good arm to do it myself, especially after Marguerite had already swatted me with a switch.

I snatched the hanger away from Marguerite. ‘I’ll do it.’

Marguerite folded her arms, watching me as I drew the hanger high into the air. I winced, pausing, before whacking my hand once. ‘Ouch!’ I cried, doing a little hop, and Marguerite held in a laugh.

She found a bandage in one of Mother’s desk drawers. ‘Here,’ Marguerite said, hiding a smile. ‘Now, you better get back to the girls.’

She saw me to the bottom of the stairs, but then disappeared down a dark corridor without saying goodbye. I walked back to the basement. A buzzing silence swept through the room. Claire kept her head down, turning slowly away from me as I shuffled to my cot. Others made quick glances at my bandaged hand before making busy work, tucking in bed linens and gathering up laundry. I hissed in pain for effect.

My bed had been made, the wool blanket Marguerite had thrown on the floor tucked tight under the cot’s thin mattress. Mavis sat on her bed with her Bible placed squarely in her lap.

‘Can you look after the girls today?’ I said.

She took a hard look at my bandaged hand before nodding.

I fell asleep after Mavis gathered up the girls and left. Thunder rolling over the meadow behind the castle woke me in the afternoon, and rain, lots of it, some spitting through an open window. I started to worry about the delinquents out in such a storm when a handful of them rushed into the room giggling, chatting about the rain, their feet sloshing around in their wet summer shoes.

Mavis herded them from behind, her voice barely able to rise above theirs, telling them to gather their journals and reflect on the messages God had given them throughout the day. Claire knelt next to my cot and whispered softly.

‘How are you?’

‘Good,’ I said. ‘Why?’

She looked at my hand, eyebrows raised. ‘Because of what happened with Marguerite.’

‘I’m fine,’ I said, though it did hurt. ‘May take a few days to heal.’

‘You didn’t get expelled. I’m glad.’ Claire smiled.

‘Just punished,’ I said.

‘I was worried sick, wondering what was going on in Mother’s office. Then when you came back… well… I’m just going to say it. I’m sorry for being aloof. I thought I was next.’

‘I told you before, Claire. This is between me and Marguerite. You’re safe.’

Claire sighed, lowering her head. ‘I can’t go back home. My father’s in prison somewhere, and my mother—’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry. It’s over.’

With that, Claire popped up with a smile and sat next to me. ‘It

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