The Flight of Gemma Hardy_ A Novel - Margot Livesey [47]
In the office he sat down in Sister’s chair and urged me to take the other. To avoid his scrutiny I started counting the legs in the room: two for Dr. White, four for his chair, four for the table, two for me, four for my chair, two for the person in the poster. When there were no more to count I cautiously raised my head. Dr. White was regarding me with an expression that reminded me of the portrait of Lord Minto in the library at Claypoole.
“ ‘If a lion could talk,’ ” he said, “ ‘we could not understand him.’ A philosopher named Ludwig Wittgenstein said that, and I think the same might apply to children. Sister Cullen is a very stubborn woman, almost as stubborn as you are, and she has persuaded Miss Bryant that you will not be punished for this—”
He paused, and I wondered if suddenly, like Matron, he was unable to finish his sentences.
“For this valiant deed,” he concluded. “She has also made me promise that I will see you when I visit the school. I will be treating you for a chronic condition; that means something that can’t be cured. This will be your chance to let me know if there are problems. If you don’t plan to continue talking you can always write me a note. Is there anything you’d like to tell or ask me?”
For a few seconds more I clung to my silence, hugging it close as I had used to hug the green velvet curtain in my uncle’s study. Then I asked the question I had not dared to ask Sister. “Can a person be cursed?”
Dr. White’s mouth opened in surprise. “I suppose you are asking whether you might be cursed?”
I nodded, picturing my aunt, Will, Mr. Donaldson, Ross, Mrs. Harris, Miss Bryant, Mr. Milne lining up to write curse tablets and throw them into the source of the river Teviot.
“There are people,” he said, “who would say yes. I am not one of them. After a decade of practising medicine, I do think that some people attract good luck. And some do not. You’ve been in the second category for the last six months, but that will change. You must take advantage of Claypoole to get the best education you can.”
“But what will I do without Miriam? The other girls hate me. The teachers don’t care whether I study or not. Only Cook likes me, and Matron a little bit.”
“You’ll find other—” Then he saw my face. “Forgive me, Hardy. You don’t need platitudes. If you can’t have a friend, is there anything else that would make your life at Claypoole easier? Something Miss Bryant might agree to.”
I pictured having my own room, but no girl had that. Spending more time with the pigs, but that seemed a stupid thing to ask for. Learning to play the piano, but many of the regular pupils did not have this privilege. “If I could use the library,” I said, “that would help. Next term, if I pass the exams, I’ll be in Miss Seftain’s class. Miriam said she was nice. I’d like to learn Latin.”
“I’ll ask about the library. Now go and finish Peter Rabbit.”
The following day after breakfast, Sister Cullen announced that my lift back to the school had arrived. She led me briskly down the corridors I had tiptoed along two nights before. “Thank you for all your hard work yesterday,” she said. “I hope for your sake we don’t meet again. Or if we do that it’s under very different circumstances.”
I was about to fling my arms around her when I saw her outstretched hand.
In the car park the van was waiting. At the sight of Mr. Milne standing by the open door, his dungarees stretched tight over his belly, I almost ran back to the ward. But behind me I felt Sister Cullen willing me on, reminding me that I had no choice. I marched across the tarmac, and climbed into the back seat.
As we drove down the high street Mr. Milne commented on the weather, and then, when we had passed beyond the town, the sheep, but as I gazed stonily out of the window he too lapsed into silence. I recognised nothing from my nocturnal walk until we reached Denholm with its neat, white houses. Some surely held weak-minded