No Talking after Lights by Angela Lambert Page B

They’re jolly decent to me but they’re friends with each other. They don’t need me.’
    â€˜Nonsense. We all need friends. “No man is an island, complete unto himself.” You wouldn’t know who wrote that?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜John Donne. A very great poet and preacher of the seventeenth century. You’ll enjoy reading him one day. I think you’ll find poetry a friend.’
    â€˜I do already.’
    Mrs Birmingham looked up, and saw that the child was serious.
    â€˜Good. Try Browning. Not Elizabeth Barrett. Robert. Look up a poem that begins, “Grr, there go, my heart’s abhorrence! Water your damned flower pots, do!’”
    â€˜Didn’t he write “The Pied Piper of Hamelin”?’
    â€˜Good
girl
. That’s right. This is a few steps on from that. Run along to the library now, and look it up before you forget. We’ll have another chat in a few weeks’ time.’
    As the door closed behind Constance, Miss Roberts said, ‘Another pen missing?’
    â€˜Yes. She hasn’t lost it, poor little mite. It’s been taken. So have a silver photograph frame, a leather writing-case, another pen, half-a-dozen glass animals, and a ten-shilling note pinned inside a birthday card.’
    â€˜Will you talk to the school?’
    â€˜I suppose it’s time I did.’ Mrs Birmingham sighed heavily. ‘There’s always one rotten apple.’
    â€˜She’s a clever child, Constance King. She’ll be a credit to the school one day. Pity she’s not getting on with the Lower Fourth.’
    â€˜Well, she is a bit of an odd-bod. What can I do, Peggy? I can’t possibly move her down, but I can’t put her up with the fourteen-year-olds, either. She’ll just have to find her level. Shame about her pen - but a bit of a relief as well. It means she is unlikely to be the thief.’
    That seemed unlikely anyway.’
    â€˜You’re right, though. It’s time to talk to the school.’
Dear God
, prayed Henrietta,
show me Thy wisdom, give me an understanding of the hearts and minds of others. Fill this my school with Thy goodness …
    â€˜Fill this Thy school with Thy goodness and fellowship, that it may be an example of a Christian community to all who live and serve within it. For the sake of Thy son, our Lord Jesus Christ…’
    â€˜Amen,’ intoned the school.
    Once they had left the common-room, teachers and girls, safe from being overheard by one another in form-room or staff-room, began to speculate.
    â€˜Poor girls,’ said Miss Worthrop. ‘It’s horrid when everybody’s under suspicion. They all looked guilty.’
    â€˜If you ask me, it’s Charmian Reynolds,’ said Sylvia.
    â€˜We’ve got absolutely
no
evidence about anyone so far. Let’s try and remain fair and open-minded,’ said Miss Valentine. She hated her own form being under suspicion and privately thought Charmian far too vapid to carry out a series of thefts. ‘You are only accusing Charmian Reynolds because you don’t like her.’
    â€˜That’s untrue and uncalled for. I think you should withdraw that remark,’ said Sylvia.
    â€˜Withdraw, withdraw. There goes the bell. Into the fray, everyone!’
    Waiting for the first lesson, the girls buzzed with drama and outrage.
    â€˜No sweets for anyone!’ said Fiona. ‘Gosh, I think that’s a swizz.’
    â€˜Me too,’ said fat Rachel.
    â€˜Won’t do
you
any harm,’ said Charmian.
    â€˜Mean pig,’ said Jennifer.
    â€˜My pen’s gone too,’ ventured Constance, admitting it for the first time.
    â€˜Are you sure?’ said Flick, nastily.
    â€˜Of course I’m sure.’
    â€˜OK, OK, keep your hair on. Hey, quick, shut up everyone, here comes Batey Parry!’
    â€˜What do you make of this?’ asked Henrietta Birmingham, passing a letter across to her