Alice-Miranda sat up in bed. “Good morning, Millie.” She looked over at her friend. “How are you feeling?” Alice-Miranda had set her alarm for six a.m. She was planning to use the extra time to practice her lines for the play.
“Terrible,” Millie sighed. “I didn’t sleep much at all. Miss Grimm’s probably going to kick me out of the play.”
“I don’t think so,” Alice-Miranda reassured her. “She’s changed so much, remember, and I’m sure if you apologize to Sloane, Miss Grimm will accept that. Sloane was being a bit tricky.”
“Yes, but I have to keep my temper under better control.”
The two girls hopped out of bed. Millie didn’t want to be a second late for her appointment with Miss Grimm.
“Good luck.” Alice-Miranda gave Millie a quick hug. “Just tell Miss Grimm the truth—that’s all you can do.”
It was a quarter to seven when Millie departed for Miss Grimm’s study. The corridors of Winchesterfield Manor were particularly foreboding in the early-morning light. Millie glanced at the portraits of the former headmistresses with their stern looks. She felt like they were all frowning at her.
Mrs. Derby hadn’t yet arrived for the day, but Miss Grimm had obviously opened the office door for the girls. There was no sign of Sloane, and come to think of it, Millie hadn’t seen her back at the house. Surely she wasn’t stupid enough to miss the meeting?
Millie sat in one of the chairs positioned outside Miss Grimm’s study to wait until seven a.m. She watched the grandfather clock against the wall. Tick … tick … tick … The rhythm of the grand old timepiece was like a slow march. Every minute seemed like an hour. In an effort to take her mind off her impending doom, Millie stood up and walked over to have a look at Mrs. Derby’s row of photographs perched on the marble mantelpiece. There was a lovely picture of her and Constable Derby on their wedding day and another of Millie and Alice-Miranda as flower girls. In fact, Mrs. Derby had involved all of the girls in her celebration, each wearing pretty dresses in a rainbow of colors with floral garlands in their hair. Millie’s own red locks stood out like a beacon compared with the other girls.
Millie walked back over to the mahogany chair and sat down. According to the clock, it was two minutes to seven. At seven a.m. precisely, she would knock.
Ding dong dong ding, dong ding ding dong … The clock rang out its merry tune.
Millie waited until the last chime before she reached up to tap on the mahogany door.
“Come!” Miss Grimm’s voice boomed from within. She was sitting at her desk but stood up and indicated that Millie should take a seat on the leather chesterfield sofa near the fire.
“Is Sloane with you?” Miss Grimm asked.
“No, Miss Grimm,” Millie replied.
“Well, she’d want to hurry.” Miss Grimm glanced at her watch and the clock on the wall opposite her desk.
Ophelia sat down in one of the wingbacked armchairs opposite Millie. “Millie, would you like to explain to me, please, what happened last night?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Grimm. My behavior was unacceptable. I didn’t mean to pull Sloane’s hair. It’s just that when she poured the gulab over me, I couldn’t control my temper.” Millie stared at the Persian carpet on the floor in front of her, mesmerized by its intricate pattern.
“All right, well, you can apologize to Sloane—when she gets here,” Miss Grimm advised. “You might like to tell me the events that led to Sloane depositing her dessert on your head.”
“Yes, Miss Grimm. Sloane was talking about Jacinta’s mother and saying that if she were her mother, she’d tell everyone how famous she was and who she was with. Jacinta was a bit upset because, well, she never really sees her mother very much. Then Jacinta made a joke and said that she could trade mothers with Sloane, and I said that she had to be kidding, and Jacinta and I laughed. Sloane got angry and asked why we were laughing.”
“And why were you laughing?” Miss Grimm asked. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line.
“Well, I suppose we thought it would be even worse having Sloane’s mother,” Millie admitted.
“And why do you think that?” Miss Grimm asked.
“I don’t know exactly. It’s just that Sloane’s mother seems awfully caught up with who people know and what they look like. I suppose we laughed because we all know Jacinta’s mother isn’t exactly in the running for mother of the year, and the idea of her swapping her mother for Sloane’s was really silly.”
“Indeed.” Miss Grimm drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. She couldn’t agree with Millie more, but it wasn’t appropriate for her to say so. She caught Millie looking up at her sheepishly. “Was there anything else?” Miss Grimm asked.
“Yes. Sloane made fun of my mother when Alice-Miranda said she was a vet, and then she asked if my father was a lion tamer, and that’s when I blurted out that at least my dad wasn’t a television vacuum-cleaner salesman.” Millie hung her head.
“And is that Sloane’s father’s job?” Miss Grimm asked.
“Yes, I think so. Wally said that he’d seen a man called Smedley Sykes selling vacuum cleaners on the home shopping channel.”
“I see.” Miss Grimm was beginning to get a clearer picture. “Well, it sounds to me, Millie, like you’ve realized your mistake. I think perhaps you could spend a couple of afternoons helping Wally with the mucking out down at the stables. And you can apologize to Sloane, if she ever bothers to arrive,” Miss Grimm instructed.
“You mean I can keep my part in the play?” Millie looked up at Miss Grimm.
“Yes, of course.” Ophelia nodded. “That was never in doubt.”
“Oh, thank you, Miss Grimm!” Millie launched herself at the headmistress and gave her a hug.
“Steady on there, Millicent.” Miss Grimm smiled. “I see you’re taking your cues from your roommate these days.”
Millie let go of Miss Grimm and sat back down on the couch.
By now, the clock on the wall indicated that it was ten past seven. There was a loud rumpus in Mrs. Derby’s office and a knock on the study door. Miss Grimm went to open it.
“You’re late, Sloane.” The headmistress was stern.
Sloane made no apology. “I couldn’t get my hair dryer to work.”
“Sit there.” Miss Grimm pointed at the couch next to Millie. “You’re a very brave girl, Sloane Sykes.”
“Thank you, Miss Grimm,” Sloane replied. “I’ve been subjected to the most awful bullying.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Ophelia took up her position on the chair opposite. “You obviously don’t believe in punctuality. Is that correct?”
Sloane had to think. Punctuality. Was that the same as punctuation? She couldn’t remember.
“Yes, I do, Miss Grimm. I always use full stops and capital letters,” Sloane replied at last.
Millie had to clamp her hand over her mouth for fear of bursting out laughing.
“Sloane, Millie has something she’d like to say to you.” Miss Grimm chose at this stage to overlook Sloane’s ignorance. But it had given her a plan that would be most satisfactory.
Sloane looked at Millie with an air of righteous indignation.
“I’m sorry that I insulted you, Sloane, by laughing about your mother and saying that your father had a silly job.” Millie blinked.
“And?” Sloane glared.
“And what?” Millie was puzzled.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Sloane insisted. “Like, are you going to do my house chores for a week or carry my books or something?”
“She most certainly will not, Sloane Sykes.” Miss Grimm’s temper was beginning to fray. “Now, young lady, what do you have to say to Millie?”
Sloane shook her head. “Nothing. I didn’t do anything. She started it and it was her fault she ended up with pudding on her head,” she spat.
Ophelia’s temperature was rising.
“I don’t think so, Sloane. There are two sides to every story, and unless I hear an apology, heartfelt, from you in the next ten seconds, I will be handing your role in the school play to … Wally Whitstable, for all I care!” Miss Grimm roared.
Sloane’s mouth gaped open.
“Ten, nine …” Miss Grimm began counting. She’d reached two when Sloane finally found her voice. “Sorry, Millie,” she seethed.
“Sorry for what?” Miss Grimm was secretly enjoying this a little.
“Sorry for tipping that goo on your head,” Sloane added.
“Well, it was an apology, but I have to say I don’t much believe you, Sloane.” Miss Grimm shook her head. “This is not the first time your lack of manners has been brought to my attention. You can keep your part in the play for now, but if I hear one word, one single word, that says you have been less than kind or gracious or caring to anyone at this school, Wally will have that script in his hand before you have time to say ‘mirror, mirror.’ Do you understand me?” Miss Grimm stared at Sloane.
“Yes, what?” Miss Grimm demanded.
“Yes, Miss Grimm.”
“Better.” Miss Grimm stood up. “Off you go now, Millie. Just report to Wally this afternoon and I’m sure he’ll find you some jobs to do.”
Sloane stood up to follow her.
“Where are you going, young lady?” Miss Grimm asked.
“Breakfast,” Sloane replied. She wasn’t a very fast learner.
“I don’t think so,” Miss Grimm said. “I’ll have some porridge sent up for you. You have work to do.”
“What work?” Sloane huffed.
“Well, for a start, I think we’ll spend some time on the dictionary. At your age, you should definitely know the difference between punctuality and punctuation. I suspect copying out the entire P section of this will help.” Miss Grimm pulled an enormous leather-bound Oxford dictionary from her bookcase. “You will report to my study every morning at seven and will remain here until lessons commence at half past eight, for as long as it takes.”
“But that’s child abuse!” Sloane wailed.
“Oh no, my dear girl.” Miss Grimm shook her head. “Think of it as extra tutoring, for free, and with the headmistress, no less. Now, why don’t you sit yourself down over there.” Ophelia pointed at the writing desk opposite her own. “I’ll bring you some paper and a pen.”