Rough Justice Read Online Free PDF

so willing and helpful, no matter what the task before her. Such an asset to the home.’
    Nell turned round and returned his smile, pleased to be rewarded with such kind words. ‘Thank you, sir.’
    Matron Sully pressed together her already thin lips, her jowly face quivering from the strain of controlling her displeasure. She was fed up with hearing from the governor what a treasure the girl had become, and being told by the charitable ladies how patient she was, and how pretty, with her soft blonde curls, her wide, pale grey eyes, and her no longer scrawny body. Well, the very sight of her made Clara Sully feel queasy, filling her with what had become over the years a poisonous combination of resentment and, much as she hated to admit it, guilt. Not that the guilt was warranted, of course, it was just another of the girl’s vile tricks that she used to upset her, Matron Sully, the person who had been kindest to her.
    The matron put her hand to her chest, covering the pearl and gold pin. She knew full well that the girl had only wheedled her way into Mr Thanet’s good books to make her look bad, and all because she had never forgiven her for taking the brooch off her on the day when that Jenkins woman had brought her to the home. Yet she was so sly she had never so much as mentioned the incident. Not once. Oh no, she had been far craftier than that, and had chosen instead to cast sidelong glances at the bib of the matron’s starched white apron, where the jewel was pinned.
    But Clara Sully had never stopped wearing the brooch, because it would be a bad day all round when she let a mere girl get the better of her. Especially a girl who would do better to begrateful that she had been taken in at all, what with her coming from a baby farmer and not being a true foundling, instead of acting with such impertinence to the one who had rescued her. But that was the trouble with young women today – no gratitude. Any right-minded person would be able to see immediately how kind she had been to the nasty little wretch, and that her generosity alone – never mind all the time she had taken to instruct her in the ways and the manners of decent people – made Matron Sully fully entitled to wear the brooch whenever she wished. Yes, it would be obvious to anybody, but not to Nell.
    The matron nibbled at the inside of her cheek, still staring at the girl as she fussed over the little boy, hitching up his socks.
    How had that pathetic, scraggy toddler blossomed into such a scheming, irritating beauty? And why did she have to pretend to be so cheerful all the time? That girl should have just a tenth of the worries that the matron had, and maybe then she’d stop this phoney grinning like a fool. What with all the talk of adoption societies going on all over the place, if the board didn’t watch out, the home would be a thing of the past, and then what would Clara Sully do? She had given her life to caring for these selfish, unappreciative little monsters, and how did they repay her? Insolence and begrudging her any little thing for herself, that’s how. Why shouldn’t she have a modest token by way of payment?
    It wasn’t bloody fair. It wasn’t bloody fair at all.
    The matron turned away hurriedly so that Nell wouldn’t be able to glimpse her burning red cheeks, alarmed that such a profanity had slipped into her mind.
    What if it had actually slipped from her mouth, and Mr Thanet had heard her?
    That was the effect the spoiled little madam had on her. She was worse than a witch.
    She spun back round, surprisingly quickly for such a big woman. ‘Have you nothing better to do than play with that child?’ she snapped over Mr Thanet’s shoulder, the words fired at Nell like bullets.
    Nell winked at the little boy, stroked his cheek and lifted her chin in the direction of the schoolroom. ‘Go on. Hurry up. But don’t run.’
    For once, young Sam was only too pleased to be off to his lessons. The matron scared the wits out of him