Dandy Gilver and a Bothersome Number of Corpses Read Online Free PDF Page B

help you?’
    ‘Um,’ I said, only now seeing the foolishness of (practically) climbing in over the back fence if I wanted to make sure of a ready welcome. Miss Shanks waited, regarding me stolidly. She was a high-coloured woman, hair so yellow there was almost an orange tint to it and face ruddy enough to clash with the hair. I thought again of Eliza McManus. Miss Shanks was similarly robust in her construction, with short thick arms, short thick legs and a middle like Humpty Dumpty. And she did not dress her frame well. She was wearing a capacious pleated frock, which made her look like a lamp.
    ‘I’m the headmistress,’ she said, but thankfully it sounded more like an assurance than a threat. Whatever my business was it was also hers, she seemed to say.
    ‘I’m here . . . um . . . I know Miss Lipscott . . .’ I said, thinking this was good and neutral.
    ‘Ah-ha!’ said Miss Shanks. ‘For Mademoiselle Beauclerc?’
    ‘Ah . . .’ I said.
    ‘From the agency?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, although surprised at its mention. ‘Yes indeed. Gilver and Osborne.’
    ‘
Bon
,’ said Miss Shanks. ‘
Très bon
. We’ve been expecting you. Well, come in, Miss Gilver, come in. We’re just about to start din-dins.’ She turned and stumped off towards a half-open door leading from the terrace into the school.
    For some reason, probably since Pearl and Aurora were not welcome here, I had taken it quite for granted that Fleur’s difficulties – whatever they might prove to be – were secret and I was more than a little nonplussed to be welcomed into the very bosom of the school this way. With one look behind me, I followed her.
    Inside the door, which was half-glass, one of many half-glass doors set in pairs along the terrace, I found myself in a long plain dining room, with whitewashed walls and an oak floor washed with soap and left unwaxed so that it was pale and dry-looking. Stretching the length of the room were two narrow tables, set for dinner but with yellow cotton cloths instead of white, jugs of water and cups instead of wine glasses and bottles.
    ‘Sit here,’ said Miss Shanks, leading me to a seat halfway up one of the tables, facing the glass doors. ‘You can have a nice view of the sea tonight since you’re new.
Sehr gut
. If only it were German . . . but there isn’t the appetite for German these days and it’s not as though I haven’t tried.’
    I said nothing.
    ‘Sit! Sit!’ said Miss Shanks, summoning a maid to squeeze in an extra place for me.
    Once the maid had returned I sat, noticing that she had brought bone-handled silver where all around was Sheffield plate, and a crystal water glass in place of a cup.
    ‘Where are your things?’ said Miss Shanks. ‘At the front door? Still at the station?’
    ‘My things are down in the village at the pub,’ I said. ‘I was planning to sleep there tonight.’
    ‘In the pub?’ said Miss Shanks, rearing backwards a little. ‘Dearie me no, Miss Gilver, that won’t do. We’re quite ready for you. More than ready. After din-dins I’ll let one of the big-uns off prayers and she can show you to your cell.’ Here she let out a peal of laughter and poked my shoulder. ‘I’m joking,’ she said. ‘I meant your room. Here they come.’
    Indeed there was a faint babbling like water just released from a far-off dam. It grew louder and louder and was joined by the tramp of feet, and then two sets of doors burst open at the back of the room and a rabble – there is no other word – of girls, big and small, all dressed in yellow shirts and grey gymslips, spread like a flood through the room and threw themselves into seats at the tables.
    ‘Up, up, upsie-daisies!’ shouted Miss Shanks, powerfully enough to be heard above the din. ‘If you had a sea view at muncheon you have a wall view tonight. Sort yourselves out, girlsies. Chop-chop. Hurry now.’ None of the girls moved but they did stop talking and many of them sat up straight and clasped