Winter's End Read Online Free PDF Page B

the detentioncell. She wrote about Milena’s amazing voice, saying she’d never have thought her capable of letting anyone down like that. And she asked him to reply soon, adding that she’d be
waiting impatiently
for his letter. Then she cobbled together a makeshift envelope out of another piece of notepaper folded in half and glued together. She took the piece of paper that Milos had given her the day before out of her sock, where she had tucked it away, and carefully copied his name:
Milos Ferenzy. The boys’ boarding school. Fourth year.
Before slipping her letter into the envelope, she paused for a moment to think, and added, under her signature:
By the way, I haven’t even told you anything about myself. I’m seventeen. I like books and chocolate (and I’m glad I met you).
    Writing that last line, she felt doubtful and uncertain. Had she said too much? Not enough?
    At ten o’clock break, she unobtrusively joined a group of fifth-year girls in one corner of the school yard and asked straight out, “How does the mail service work? Does someone put the letters in the laundry cart and then the Skunk takes them away?”
    A tall, slim, and rather pretty girl stared hard at her. “Who do you want to send a letter to?”
    “A boy from over there.”
    “What year are you in?”
    “The fourth year.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “Helen Dormann.”
    “And what’s his?”
    “Milos Ferenzy,” said Helen. She blushed, and felt furious with herself.
    The older girls conferred by exchanging glances. None of them knew Milos. He’d probably be too young to interest them.
    “Give it here,” said the tall girl, and the others spontaneously formed a little barrier around them so that Helen could hand her letter over unnoticed.
    “You’re the one who leaves the letters?” Helen asked.
    “That’s right.”
    “I . . . I don’t have a present for you. Or for the Skunk. I don’t have anything. I didn’t have the time to . . .”
    “That’s all right. I’ll bring you the reply. If there is one.”
    A little before midday, Helen was looking out the music-room window, which had a view of the yard, and saw the Skunk arrive with his jolting cart. He disappeared into the laundry and came out with a pile of white sheets. The day’s letters must be hidden among them.
    I sent a letter to my love
    And on the way I dropped it.
    One of you has picked it up
    And put it in your pocket.
    Helen hummed, amazed to find how easily the nursery rhyme came back to her from her early childhood.
    The days that followed were unbearable. Helen expected to be called to the Tank’s office at any moment. But the summons never came. The lack of reaction to what had happened was worse than anything. It meant that the school staff were sticking to Rule 16: If any pupil does not return after her three hours’ absence, another girl will be sent to the detention cell immediately and will stay there until the runaway is back. Everything was in order; the matter was closed.
    None of the girls dared mention Catharina, but everyone thought of her the whole time. Was she managing to sleep? Did they give her anything to eat and drink? Helen questioned a fifth-year girl who had spent a whole night and half the next day in the Sky last year for throwing her soup plate at the refectory wall and shouting that she was “Fed up! Fed up! Fed up!” She wouldn’t say much and seemed mainly anxious to know if Catharina would have had time to get a look at the picture on the beam.
    “Is it that important?” asked Helen. “Did you see it yourself?”
    “Only for a second or so, but it kept me from going around the bend. Was it you Milena went out with?”
    “Yes.”
    The girl turned her back. Helen felt that everyone held her responsible for what had happened, orat least thought she had been Milena’s accomplice. As Milena wasn’t there, they couldn’t tell her what they thought of her, so they took their fury and resentment out on Helen. Only Vera