Wildthorn Read Online Free PDF Page B

the pain. Through the blur of my tears, I saw Mamma putting the cane away. Furtively, I examined my hand. Two pink weals crossed on my palm.
    Mamma took something from her pocket. "I want you to put these in the kitchen range now." Her voice sounded funny, not as firm as usual.
    She placed a crumpled paper bag in my uninjured hand. My pear drops.
    We went to the kitchen together, and Mamma watched while I threw my treasure on to the flames. Then she took me upstairs and helped me to undress, as I couldn't have managed one-handed.
    Once I was ready for bed, Mamma produced a brown bottle and my stomach contracted. Rhubarb and soda. She was assuming I'd eaten
all
the missing acid drops, not just one, and needed a dose of purgative!
    Tom must have eaten the rest. And I was the one being punished. It wasn't fair. But it was no good telling Mamma—she'd believe Tom, not me.
    Mamma made me swallow a large mouthful of the horrid pink stuff. I gagged as it slid down. Then she stood over me while I knelt to say my prayers.
    "I want you to say this today, Louisa. 'Wash me clean of my guilt, purify me from my sins.'"
    I bowed my head.
    "Oh Lord, wash me clean of my guilt..."
    "Purify."
    "Purify me from my sins. Bless dearest Papa and Mamma."
    "You forgot Tom."
    I hesitated. Mamma frowned. "—and Tom. Amen."
    When Mamma carried the candle away, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
    It was all Tom's fault. He needn't have told. Especially when he ate the sweets and I didn't.
    And Mamma didn't love me. Would she tell Aunt Phyllis what I had done? Would Grace find out? She would think so badly of me.
    I hugged Annabel to me and wept until her cloth face was soaked with my tears.

As soon as lunch is over, I look for Weeks. I won't stay's here a minute longer. She must take me to the superintendent immediately.
    I find her in the day room, where a few women are already engaged in embroidery or sewing; most are doing nothing, staring into space, withdrawn into themselves.
    "What would you like to do? We have embroidery silks, or perhaps you'd prefer watercolours?" Weeks is waiting by a tall cabinet, its bottom doors open.
    This is absurd. I'm not going to waste time behaving as if I was at some ladies' sewing circle.
    "I want to see Mr. Sneed. I'd like you to take me to him now."
    "That's not possible."
    "Why not?"
    She doesn't answer. Her black eyes glitter, seeming to say:
Just try to defy me.
    I can feel protest stirring inside me. This is so unjust. How can she simply ignore me?
    But then it hits me like a blow.
    The more I argue, the more they'll be convinced that I'm Lucy Childs, that mad girl. I must try to stay calm and prove to them that I'm rational, that I shouldn't be here.
    Weeks continues as if I haven't spoken. "What occupation would you like?" She's beginning to sound testy.
    If I have to stay here a little longer, I might as well do something to pass the time. But I can't see any harm in telling the truth. "I'm useless at painting and I can't understand the point of embroidery. It's a waste of time." Nothing mad about that. I look Weeks in the eye.
    Tutting, she snatches up a length of material from a pile. "Well in that case, you'd better make yourself useful and mend this sheet." She shows me the split in the middle, where it's thin. "You have to cut this in half—"
    "I know."
    I don't need to be told what to do. Mamma taught me how to cut a worn sheet in two, put the sides to the middle, and stitch it up again. I had to do this and other tedious tasks while Tom was allowed to play.
Tom. Perhaps even now Mrs. Woodville is writing to ask him why I haven't arrived...
    Weeks thrusts the sheet into my arms, with a sour expression. "Oh, well, if you know, you don't need me to tell you, do you?" As she gives me a pair of scissors, her eyes narrow. "Make sure you hand them back to me when you've finished with them."
    Mechanically I start to divide the sheet.
    I've got to get out of here soon. When they hear from the