The Glass Bird Girl (11 page)

The Glass Bird

A
t first glance, the contents of Phoebe's drawer looked perfectly ordinary – a torch, a jumble of letters, half a contraband chocolate bar. But as Edie reached inside she felt like a criminal breaking into a safe.
I am only investigating
, she told herself, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

Her investigation had not got far when two voices in the corridor made her jump. Edie recognised them at once as belonging to Matron and Miss Winifred. She pushed the drawer shut and darted back to her own bed. At first she was too startled to register what was being said. But then she heard Anastasia's name mentioned, and listened attentively.

‘She's a dreamy little thing, not at all practical,' Matron said in an affectionate tone. ‘I suppose it can't be
easy for her. I gather she's quite the princess back in Russia.'

‘They are certainly rich,' Miss Winifred replied. ‘Stupidly rich. And I'm afraid it shows.'

‘Do you think so?' Matron asked in surprise. ‘But of all the girls here I would say that Anastasia is unusually polite.'

‘She would naturally be polite to you,' Miss Winifred said. ‘She has clearly made a decision that you are a servant, and that good manners are therefore a must.'

‘Is that so now?' Matron asked in a voice which gave nothing away.

‘I wish I was afforded the same treatment,' Miss Winifred went on. ‘Her behaviour in class has been so disruptive I hardly know what to do.'

‘
Really?
'

‘Oh yes, I see a very different side. At first I put her troublemaking down to being spoilt – the poor child has been fawned on and over-indulged all her life, I thought it was hardly surprising she found school such a challenge. I decided the kindest thing was to treat her with a firm hand, but I can see now I was being much too harsh.'

‘Well, if she was being disruptive—'

‘She needs sensitive handling, I feel,' Miss Winifred insisted. ‘Her problems go quite deep, I'm afraid. You know about her mother?'

‘Miss Fotheringay told me that she had recently been in hospital, which is why she couldn't have Anastasia home at half-term – I was told it was some infection.'

‘An infection, hmm, that's one way of putting it.' There was a pause. When Miss Winifred spoke again her voice was lowered, so Edie had to strain to hear. ‘Anastasia's mother is
mentally unstable
, and the hospital was a psychiatric one. Sadly it would appear that her daughter suffers from the same delusions. There is madness in the blood, Matron, though they'd sooner throw the family diamonds into the Black Sea than admit to it. The father can deny it all he likes, but as her form mistress I can tell you that I am extremely concerned.'

Edie stiffened.

‘I see,' Matron replied slowly. ‘That would be a worry now.'

‘We must all be gentle with her,' Miss Winifred went on softly, ‘and in the meantime if you notice anything disturbing, Matron, I would be grateful if you could inform me.'

‘What sort of thing would you be looking for?' Matron asked in a puzzled tone.

‘In class, one of her most distressing ruses is to accuse other girls of harming her. It's some sort of victimisation complex – there was the incident last week on the lacrosse pitch, when the poor child seemed to convince herself that Phoebe had tried to maim her. And she is forever hiding things, then accusing the other girls of stealing them. It's upsetting for everyone, and it doesn't help that everything she owns is so precious. That glass bird, for example – you know it's from one of the prince's old crystal collections? Imagine sending a child to school with such a treasure.'

‘Perhaps I should offer to look after it for her until the end of term,' Matron said. ‘I don't suppose the head would approve of such a valuable item in the dormitory.'

‘Oh no, I shouldn't do that,' Miss Winifred replied quickly. ‘The bird by itself is probably not worth so much and we mustn't deny the poor child her few comforts of home. But please do let me know of any upsets.'

‘Well, since you ask, there is something . . .' Matron volunteered, sounding a little hesitant.

Edie listened, rigid. But at that moment the bell rang for supper. It seemed to clang even longer and louder than usual, and when it had finished she heard Miss Winifred and Matron's footsteps receding down the corridor.

She wondered what Matron had been about to confide. Could she have got wind of the missing money, even though Anastasia had resolved not to mention it? But it was what Miss Winifred had said that troubled Edie most. What did she mean about there being madness in the blood? Anastasia
wasn't
mad. Edie was sure of it.

Edie did not want to upset Anastasia by telling her what she had overheard, but she felt she must warn her against confiding in Matron. Edie supposed Miss Winifred was only trying to help, but she knew Anastasia would hate the thought that anything she told Matron would be passed on. They had hardly spoken since their conflict over the play, so Anastasia looked a little surprised to find Edie waiting for her outside the dining room after supper.

‘Look, I've been thinking about it, and you're probably right not to tell Matron about the money,' Edie said. ‘I promised to help you, Anastasia, and I will. Give me a day or two and I'm sure I can find out who took it.'

Anastasia's face fell. ‘I wish you'd make up your mind, Edie. Yesterday you said I
should
tell Matron. And this afternoon she was being so friendly I decided I would. I told her Papa had sent it to me, and that someone must have stolen it, and she was very nice. She said she'd help me have a real look for it. Why, what's wrong?' she said nervously, seeing Edie's face.

‘Oh, nothing,' Edie replied. She could guess now how Miss Winifred and Matron's conversation must have finished. And when the lower-school mistress swept into the dormitory just before lights out, she felt very apprehensive.

‘Good evening, girls,' said Miss Winifred, greeting them with a smile.

‘Good evening, Miss Winifred,' everyone replied.

‘I am afraid I am here on unpleasant business,' the mistress said, looking sweetly concerned. ‘Matron tells me there has been a theft in this dormitory – and the victim, you may not be surprised to learn, is Anastasia. Someone has stolen her pocket money. Rather more pocket money,' Miss Winifred added meaningfully, ‘than is usually allowed.'

Anastasia looked shocked.

‘I'm afraid I have no option but to search everyone's drawers,' Miss Winifred continued. ‘I do regret the inconvenience to you all, but I'm sure none of you would wish to remain under suspicion.'

The mood became anxious as every girl wondered if there was something in her drawer Miss Winifred shouldn't see. Edie suddenly remembered Lyle's chocolates. She had looked inside the box and seen they were dark, with violet icing, and she had buried them in her sock drawer, knowing she wouldn't like them. It would be just her luck to get in trouble for some sweets she didn't even want.

But it was Phoebe's bed that Miss Winifred approached first.

Edie kept a careful eye on the other girl, looking for signs of guilt. But as Miss Winifred opened the drawer of the bedside table, Phoebe's face gave nothing away. Even when Miss Winifred found her half-eaten chocolate bar, her expression remained impassive.

Edie watched avidly, secretly grateful to Miss Winifred for continuing where she'd had to leave off.

But then Anastasia let out a cry: ‘Oh!'

Everyone stared.

‘It – it's here . . . my fifty pounds,' Anastasia stammered, turning crimson. ‘It's in my drawer . . . But I don't understand. It wasn't here earlier, I know it wasn't!'

The other girls looked astonished on learning how much money was at stake, but Miss Winifred did not seem at all surprised at Anastasia's finding the money in her own drawer.

‘Anastasia's telling the truth,' Edie said earnestly. ‘I helped her look for it, earlier.'

‘Please, girls,' Miss Winifred said, taking the note and briefly holding it up to the light before tucking it in her pocket. ‘Let's not waste our time with excuses. What's done is done and I'm just relieved that poor Anastasia's money has been found. I shall keep it safe until the end of term and now let us hear no more about it.'

Miss Winifred was very calm about it. She waited until everyone had got into bed, then turned the lights out without another word. But a short time later, when she had done the rounds of the other first-year dormitories, she reappeared.

Edie lay very still, watching Miss Winifred's shadow loom across the ceiling as she moved silently to Anastasia's bed. She sat there for several minutes, talking to Anastasia in a low whisper, too softly for Edie to follow what was being said. She caught only the odd snippet of a sentence, in which she heard Miss Winifred use the word ‘paranoia', repeated several times.

Anastasia was sitting up and hardly spoke, but Edie could see her across the dormitory, shaking her head.

‘What was all that about?' Sally whispered when Miss Winifred had left.

‘Nothing,' Anastasia replied.

‘It didn't sound like nothing.'

‘Nothing never does.'

The room fell silent. Edie waited until everyone else was sleeping, then slipped out from under her covers and tiptoed over to Anastasia's bed. She was awake too, and when Edie sat down she saw she had been crying.

‘She was going on about the doctor again,' Anastasia said in a hoarse sob. ‘She says she knows someone in Oxford who could help me. I told you, Edie – everyone thinks I'm mad!'

‘No they don't,' Edie whispered, thinking uneasily of the earlier conversation she had overheard.

‘Well, Miss Winifred does – she thinks I need
professional help
,' Anastasia said contemptuously. ‘She asked me if I had “troubles at home”, and maybe I do but I don't want to think about my stepfather when I'm at school. That was the whole point of coming away. And if it wasn't for stuff disappearing everything would be going so well. This half of term seemed so much better than last, with you, and the play, but now . . .'

‘You should at least talk to Miss Fotheringay,' Edie said with sudden conviction. ‘She's bound to ask to see you when Miss Winifred tells her about the money. You should say that someone's setting you up. I'll come with you and tell her—' Edie faltered. In her concern about Anastasia she had forgotten her own disgrace.

‘Did she have a go at you about the play?' Anastasia guessed.

Edie nodded wretchedly, feeling she might have alienated their best ally. ‘My word won't count for anything now.'

‘I'm sorry,' Anastasia said in sympathy. ‘Anyway, I don't want to talk to Fothy. I know she'll just say I'm making it all up. I'd much rather talk to Miss Mannering.'

‘The Man!' Edie was horrified.

‘Why not?' Anastasia asked. ‘She sat with me in the san when I got hurt during that lacrosse match and she turned out to be really easy to talk to. She didn't seem suspicious of me like everyone else.'

‘Well, I'm suspicious of her!' Edie said, realising with a jolt that it was true. ‘I promise you, Anastasia, there's something strange about her. I saw her coming in here earlier today, during the rehearsal – she was supposedly looking for me, but . . .' Edie hesitated. Her latest suspicion was only beginning to take shape.

‘What?' Anastasia pressed.

‘Well, you know,' Edie went on slowly, ‘she was in here on her own for a minute – long enough to put the money back in your drawer.'

‘Oh, Edie. Yesterday you were sure it was Phoebe. Now you seem to think the deputy headmistress is involved. It doesn't make sense.'

‘Phoebe's still a suspect,' Edie said firmly. ‘But if other people behave suspiciously, we have to suspect them too.'

Anastasia looked unconvinced. ‘One thing is certain – if I tell Miss Fotheringay that I think Miss Mannering's plotting against me then she really
will
think I'm mad.'

Edie frowned. She could see it might look far-fetched; and Cousin Charles's instructions had simply been to keep watch on the other girls. He had never mentioned anything about the mistresses being under suspicion.

‘It
must
be one of the girls, Edie, and it could be any of them – I bet we'll never find out who's doing it,' Anastasia said piteously. ‘Oh God, you don't know what it's like – I just don't feel
safe
here any more.'

Edie was silent. She did not feel safe either, because of the threat of being taken away. But Anastasia had a deeper fear. ‘I'll find out who's doing this, Anastasia – I promise,' Edie said, clutching her friend's hand.

‘I hope you can, Edie. Otherwise . . .' Anastasia's voice trailed off.