that Yul had hoped for after Sylvie’s trip to Bournemouth in ashes around them. He’d been so hopeful after their kiss in the hall as she left, and had spent her night away in a fever of anticipation. He’d driven to the station the next day to meet them himself … but one look at her pale, drawn face as she got off the train had set his misgivings in motion. Although she insisted they’d had a wonderful time, he could see she was tired and depressed – with an edge of something else that he couldn’t place.
The passionate night together he’d dreamt of was a complete failure. He’d been loving and patient with her and she’d tried so hard to respond to him with the joy and eagerness he longed for, but it was no good. She’d flinched as he touched her, no excuses able to negate that involuntary movement of denial. After a while he’d withdrawn from their mechanical love-making and stumbled downstairs in a haze of grief to spend yet another night on the sofa bed with a bottle of mead. Sylvie had cried herself to sleep, too wrung out to care whether Magus haunted her that night or not. Just knowing that Outside, Buzz was plotting and waiting for an opportunity to get his revenge on Yul and that inside somebody – she still had no idea who – had turned traitor, was more than she could cope with. The worst thing was that she felt unable to share any of it with Yul or indeed with anyone. She felt totally alone.
One of the few positive things in this difficult time was Magpie’s rehabilitation. He’d moved into Marigold and Cherry’s cottage tucked in by the kitchen gardens in the lee of the Hall and next door to Martin’s home. The sisters were shocked when Magpie automatically took his food to a corner of the room and crouched on the floor to eat it messily with spoon and fingers. He didn’t know how to wash himself, brush his hair or clean his teeth, and every night would make a nest of blankets on his bedroom floor. All his old clothing was burnt including the horrible coat, but he hated having to change his new clothing every day, feeling comfortable only in soiled and dirty clothes. The two women were patient and kind with the poor boy who’d been treated as an animal all his life, and their loving care was a revelation to him.
Leveret was a welcome visitor after school every day. She’d take his hand and smile at him, then look into his eyes and speak – and he appeared to respond. She was a strange one, the two women agreed, cocking her head as if she were listening to him, answering him when he hadn’t said a word. She tried to explain that over their years of friendship they’d found a way to communicate with thoughts and images instead of words. That made no sense to them but they appreciated her help – she’d more influence on him than they could hope for and she was useful in interpreting his thoughts.
Magpie was in his final school year when non-academic pupils mostly engaged in practical training, so he spent every morning working in the huge kitchen gardens which he loved. Instructions must be precise and unambiguous – it was no good telling him to pick some sprouts; he’d meticulously pick every single one. He liked the protection of the high walls and knowing his cottage was tucked safely inside. One side of the kitchen wing overlooked the gardens with a wide door leading out to a cobbled courtyard, and Marigold kept a constant eye on him. Magpie would look up from his weeding or planting and glance towards the kitchens and there she’d be, smiling and waving. He still refused to touch meat and after Leveret’s explanation, Marigold embraced his vegetarianism with enthusiasm. He put on weight steadily and grew taller almost by the day. At sixteen he was undernourished and lanky but at this rate he’d be fit and healthy by the summer.
Magpie’s afternoons were spent in the art room with the new teacher David, and he was given his own corner and a range of materials to work with. Before, he’d sat silently during all his lessons and drawn tiny images which he refused to show, never listening to the teacher and taking no interest in what was being taught. But Magpie was a