The Glass Bird Girl (16 page)

Edie heard something oddly detached in his voice. ‘It's about Miss Fotheringay,' she said nervously.

‘I thought it might be. Has she guessed you've been up to something?'

‘No, I don't think so.'

‘Really? She seemed awfully interested in you.'

‘I think there's another reason for that.'

‘What would that be, my dear?' Cousin Charles asked, sounding amused.

‘I think she knew my mother.'

‘Yes. I was aware of that.'

Edie tightened her grip on the receiver. Her hand was shaking. ‘But . . . but then why didn't you tell me?'

‘I didn't know the connection when I sent you to Knight's Haddon. Sophia let it slip when we met the other day. But what of it? I thought you didn't remember your mother?'

‘I don't,' Edie said flatly.

‘But you believe this coincidence is significant?'

Edie watched as Miss Fotheringay knelt by a bed on the far side of the garden, and started digging with her trowel. ‘Why did she hide it from me?' she asked, her
voice quavering.

Cousin Charles sounded impatient. ‘People hide things all the time, Edith. Usually because they don't want to deal with the consequences of the truth.'

‘But you told me—'

‘I told you to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. You have discovered that your headmistress had a link with your family that she was not open about, and that was clever of you. It just so happens not to be relevant to the case.'

‘How do you know it's
not relevant
?'

‘No one will take you seriously, Edith, if you whine. I know it's not relevant because the case is closed. Prince Stolonov has spoken to Miss Fotheringay and she has convinced him that Anastasia's problems are of her own making. As you have no doubt discovered, she is an actress of no mean talent. The poor girl seems to have been engaged in an elaborate bid for attention – but your headmistress is confident she's found a new outlet for her dramatics in the school play. Most thoughtful of her to cast Ansti in the lead role . . . quite inspired.'

Edie felt sick. Cousin Charles and Prince Stolonov were abandoning Anastasia just when she needed them most.

‘Anyway, you're off the job,' her cousin said casually. ‘Enjoy your last few weeks at boarding school – you won't be needed there next term.'

‘But you don't understand – the job
isn't
over. I've found out all sorts of things!'

‘I'm sorry, Edith, but Prince Stolonov has not been
paying your fees in order for you to investigate the relationship between Miss Fotheringay and your mother.'

‘No! I don't mean that! I mean things about Anastasia. The problem isn't solved, it's got bigger. There was a fire, you see, and—'

‘And?'

But suddenly Edie noticed Miss Fotheringay was gone from the garden; then she heard a door bang downstairs.

‘I can't talk any more. She's coming—'

‘Put it on paper,' said Cousin Charles in a bored voice. ‘If you dare.'

A Disturbing Date

O
n Tuesday afternoon Miss Mannering divided her Norman history class into stitchers and builders – the first group were sent to the library to piece together the story of the Bayeux Tapestry, while the second remained behind in class to learn what to look for in a twelfth-century church. But Miss Mannering had not got very far with this presentation when an idea seemed to take hold of her with sudden force.

‘Hands up anyone who hasn't yet been inside the village church of St Bede's.'

Five pairs of hands rose sheepishly into the air. ‘Shame on all of you,' said Miss Mannering gaily. ‘Buildings must be read as well as books if we are to understand the past.'

‘She's in a good mood,' Edie said to Anastasia as they
walked down the drive. She still wished she'd had a chance to search Miss Mannering's office over the
exeat
, but Miss Fotheringay had hardly let her out of her sight. Now Edie had two mistresses under suspicion.

‘I like Miss Mannering,' said Anastasia. ‘I know you don't.'

Only because I'm looking out for you
, Edie thought with a sudden flash of irritation. Edie had felt more alone than ever since the
exeat
. Anastasia hadn't seemed to notice her misery when everyone returned to school on Sunday night. Instead she had told Edie all about the sumptuous teas she had shared with her mother in their hotel without once asking what Edie had got up to with Miss Fotheringay. And now here she was tossing her head and insisting on the Man being a good sort, irrespective of any insights Edie might bring to a discussion of the history mistress's character.
She expects me to help her, but she's not actually interested in what I think
, Edie reflected crossly.

And yet even Edie had to admit that the Man revealed a very different side in the church. Her high spirits seemed to increase in the damp gloom of the interior, which was lit only by the jewelled blue-and-red glass in the windows.
It's as though it's her natural habitat
, Edie thought, watching as the history mistress weaved about, pointing out all the inscriptions and carvings.

‘Feel this,' Miss Mannering said to Edie and Anastasia, giving the column near which they were standing an appreciative stroke. ‘It's worn smooth as skin by the hands of centuries. Time, you see, has brought it closer
to its original condition.'

‘What do you mean?' asked Anastasia.

‘The Normans filled their walls and pillars with rubble,' replied Miss Mannering, looking delighted to be asked. ‘The stone on the outside is quite literally a skin.'

After a bit Miss Mannering left the girls to explore for themselves and told them to meet up at the church gate in fifteen minutes.

‘Shall we slip away and have tea at the Blue Kettle?' whispered Anastasia, touching Edie on the sleeve as they emerged into the bright winter sunshine. ‘They know me so well there now – I'm sure they'll let me come back and pay on Saturday.'

‘Are you mad?' Edie asked, looking at her in astonishment. Anastasia flushed, and Edie winced at her clumsiness – ever since the fire in the tower, there had been rumours among the other girls about Anastasia's ‘mental state', as it was coyly referred to.

‘Anastasia, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean that.'

‘I know you didn't,' Anastasia replied, affecting a look of indifference. ‘I suppose I just thought it might be fun to get into trouble for something I
have
done for a change—' But then she stopped, an expression of incredulity on her face.

‘What is it?' Edie asked, shaking her arm.

Anastasia had her mouth open in a look of dumb startle. Miss Mannering, emerging from a bend in the lane carrying a bag of buns, also noticed her surprise. She and Edie followed Anastasia's gaze in time to see Miss Winifred disappear inside the Blue Kettle accompanied
by a tall man with black hair. Edie recognised him at once as the man who had driven Miss Winifred away in his car.

‘Well, Anastasia, welcome to the shocking realisation that members of staff also have private lives,' Miss Mannering said briskly. Anastasia appeared not to have heard her. The other girls, meanwhile, had congregated at the gate. ‘I seem to have misjudged you, Anastasia,' said Miss Mannering, seeming amused by her dreaminess. ‘Your mind was perhaps on higher things?'

‘My mind?' Anastasia asked in a faraway voice, turning to face her teacher.

‘Oh dear, have you lost that now?' Phoebe called out spitefully. ‘Chances are it'll turn up inside your pencil case tomorrow.'

There was an appreciative titter from several girls before Miss Mannering silenced them with a cold stare. ‘What a very unpleasant thing to say, Phoebe. What can you have been thinking of?'

‘It was just a joke,' Phoebe said mulishly.

‘Then you will walk along with me and explain it,' Miss Mannering replied.

The party made its way back to school, with Edie and Anastasia bringing up the rear.

‘Pitied even by the Man,' Anastasia said bitterly. ‘She must think I'm disturbed in some way or she wouldn't have come down so hard on Phoebe.'

‘It doesn't matter what she thinks,' Edie said, though she was secretly puzzled by Miss Mannering's behaviour. If she was trying to persecute Anastasia, then why was
she so quick to defend her? Edie tried to think of an instance when Miss Mannering had been openly mean to Anastasia – but couldn't. On the face of things at least, her behaviour was always sympathetic.

‘It matters to me. I
hate
people thinking I'm mad,' Anastasia said.

‘
I
never think it,' Edie said stoutly.

‘I know you don't,' Anastasia replied, taking her arm. ‘But nor can you listen to everything in my head. That's why I agreed to talk to him.'

‘Who?'

‘Dr Browning. Miss Winifred's date in the Blue Kettle. He's the doctor she wanted me to see and I have. Miss Winifred said it would be better not to talk about it. Now I suppose he's debriefing her about my problems.'

Edie looked at her aghast.

‘Now you're cross with me,' Anastasia said flatly.

‘No,' said Edie, in a low panicked voice as her mind worked furiously on this new information. ‘It's just . . .' She paused, uncertain how much to reveal. ‘I can't help you if you keep things secret from me.'

‘You can help by not getting cross. Miss Winifred talked to me again about seeing someone, and I know I was against it before but I changed my mind. I think for once she was trying to be nice. She talked to me again just after the fire, said it might make things better. I saw him last week.'

Edie remembered with alarm how Miss Winifred had sat whispering on Anastasia's bed when she had first suggested it. Now she was learning that the teacher
hadn't given up the idea after Anastasia's earlier refusals. ‘And what happened?' she asked.

‘I don't know. We just talked. He was quite funny – and I could tell from his accent that he was Russian. Maybe that was why Miss Winifred thought we'd get on.'

‘Russian? But then why's he called Dr Browning?'

Anastasia shrugged. ‘Lots of Russians working in England use English names. His real name's Britianov – I noticed it on a letter on his desk.'

‘So did he ask you all about your parents? Isn't that what those sorts of doctors are meant to do?'

‘He didn't ask much about Mummy. But he wanted to know everything about Papa – I told him how much I minded him not believing me.'

‘What else?'

‘Oh, you know, how well we got on, and how often he comes to see me, and when we last spoke. He wanted to know all sorts of funny things too, about how I feel about having so many houses and things. I told him that it was just what I was used to, but he seemed very interested in it all. He even asked me about Papa's art collection. But mainly we just talked about my problems. I told him that Papa had always been the one who's understood, but that he seems to have stopped caring.'

I think your father does care,' Edie said slowly.

‘He's got a fine way of showing it,' Anastasia replied, with a signature toss of her head.

‘So what did Dr Browning say?' Edie asked, feeling increasingly uneasy.

‘He said I shouldn't blame myself about anything – he said it wasn't fair on me, that I must be under a lot of strain. I felt I could talk to him. I would have told him lots more, but we ran out of time. Anyway, I'm seeing him again the day after tomorrow—'

‘The day after tomorrow,' Edie repeated, frowning.

‘Yes, why?'

‘Anastasia, you
have
to talk to your father,' Edie pleaded. ‘You don't need a doctor. You're not mad! Someone's just—'

‘No!' Anastasia broke away from the hand which Edie had placed on her arm. ‘Why do you take Papa's side? You don't even know him. I liked the doctor. Stop trying to turn me against everyone!'

Edie remembered the conversation in the music room, when Anastasia had been at her most distraught . . . Someone, Edie felt certain, was trying to make it look as though Anastasia were unstable. And now Anastasia was behaving as though she believed it herself. And the fact that the doctor was so closely involved with a mistress made Edie even more certain that something wasn't right. Now Miss Winifred was a suspect too, and Edie's instinct was to put her name at the top of the list.

She had an impulse to take her friend by the shoulders, and shake some sense into her. But by the time they had reached the school, she had said nothing in response to Anastasia's outburst.

‘I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful,' her friend said, breaking the silence. ‘I know you want to help. But
maybe you just . . . can't?'

Edie smiled, and Anastasia looked relieved, as if all their talk about the doctor had been forgotten. Edie was baffled how quickly Anastasia's moods could change. She watched her across the table at tea, smiling at some madcap pony story of Rose's, as if she had no sense of the danger she was in. But Edie had seen the fear in her face in the music room, and wondered where it had gone. It was as though she had now decided to place her trust in the doctor, and not to consider any information which might shake that resolution.

She knew she had to persuade her friend that her father – the prince – was not her enemy, and that the doctor might be. But how should she do this? The answer, when it occurred, made her light-headed with relief. She should tell Anastasia everything she knew – not only about Miss Winifred and the doctor, but also her own role in the affair. If she confided in Anastasia they could work together, and if Anastasia knew her father had placed someone in the school to look out for her, it would surely convince her that he was on her side.

It was Cousin Charles who had made Edie promise to keep her spying work a secret from Anastasia. But now she was her own master.

Edie seized her chance after supper, when she found herself alone with Anastasia in the dormitory. Her friend was lying on her bed, flicking through her photograph album.

‘Look, Anastasia, we need to talk,' Edie said, sitting
down beside her, hardly knowing where to begin. ‘The thing is . . . you're wrong, you know, about your father not caring . . . the truth is— Oh, Anastasia, I know it will sound mad—'

That word again! It was all much harder to explain than Edie had expected. But she persevered, telling as best she could the tangled story of how Prince Stolonov and Cousin Charles had recruited her to work secretly on Anastasia's behalf.

‘Don't you see, Anastasia, I'm only here because your father wanted someone to look after you! He
does
care, you know he does. The problem is that the teachers have persuaded him there's nothing to worry about.'

Edie looked at Anastasia helplessly, hoping for some reaction, but her friend's expression was blank.

‘The doctor that you liked so much isn't who you think he is. I mean, he may be a doctor – I don't know – but he is also Miss Winifred's boyfriend!'

Anastasia said nothing.

Edie persevered, telling Anastasia how she had seen him driving Miss Winifred away for the weekend. Then she moved on to Miss Fotheringay, and her fears that even she was not to be trusted. Slowly, painfully, she explained about the secret link she had discovered between Miss Fotheringay and her mother, and the mysterious betrayal that Babka had implied.

‘So you see I haven't ruled out the Man, but now there are three mistresses under suspicion! It could be any one of them!'

Anastasia listened in silence, showing no emotion at all.

‘I'm sorry for not telling you sooner,' Edie said, unnerved. ‘It's just—'

‘Yes,' Anastasia said coldly. ‘It is a great pity that you didn't. I don't know, now, what to think.'

Join the club
, Edie thought, suddenly impatient. So much for her notion that they would solve this mystery together! Perhaps it was better for her to work alone. Anastasia was too selfish to be any help.