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trying to make herself look at least reasonably tidy – as if she could ever reach the standards Matron Sully expected of her. And then she heard it: the supper bell sounding the first of its six chimes calling the children to eat. She’d had no idea it was that late. She had to move – fast – or she’d be in bother yet again.
    She took the short cut, haring through the narrow walkways that led off to the kitchen and the washrooms, and skidded into the chilly refectory, managing to slow to a more dignified pace just as the final strike rang out. With chin lowered, she walked over to her usual place at one of the long, bare trestle tables, sat down, put her hands together and began to speak the familiar words of the grace. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the glare of Matron Sully burning into her, knowing she would be thinking what a sight she looked with her wet hair stuck to her head and her grey serge uniform dress clinging in sodden folds to her legs.
    The matron was sitting alongside Walter Thanet on a dais at the far end of the room at the high table, which, as always, had been draped in freshly laundered, crisp white napery. But knowing that even a quick peek in their direction while they were eating could provoke rage in thematron, Nell knew better than to return the woman’s stare. She really didn’t know why, but no matter how hard she worked, punishments came too easily these days for her to risk doing anything that could be construed by Matron as showing even the slightest hint of insolence. So, instead, just as all the older children did each evening, Nell lifted the lid off the earthenware pot that had been set out earlier by the cook, and began ladling out the thin, watery stew for the younger children seated at her table, only serving herself when everyone else had a full bowl.
    As the children ate their supper – mopping up every last morsel of gristle and pearl barley with the slab of dry, greyish bread they had each been given – and as the matron and governor savoured their mutton chops, parsnips and crisply roasted potatoes smothered in thick gravy, a girl stood at a lectern and read out improving verses from the Bible. Nobody else in the cold, draughty room spoke except for the two adults at the high table, who were engaged in what sounded to Nell’s ears almost like an argument.
    ‘Oh no, Matron Sully,’ said the governor firmly, with a rather superior look on his face. ‘I really don’t think it would be sensible to allow that.’
    ‘So you said, Mr Thanet.’ The matron paused, building up to her trump card. ‘But we can’t keep young people here against their will once they have reached a certain age, now can we? How would that appear should the board come to hearof it? People might start making enquiries into the way the place is run.’
    Walter Thanet put down his knife and fork, dabbed his lips with his napkin, and sipped from his glass of water.
    With the youngsters’ meagre meal over, and the tables cleared, Nell walked towards the door, looking forward to the blessed relief of being able to sleep at last.
    Just as she was about to enter the dormitory, already unbuttoning the cuffs of her dress, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She half turned to see Matron Sully standing behind her, grease from her rich meal still glistening on her lips.
    ‘I want to see you in the office. Now. So don’t just stand there staring at me, girl, come along. And dress yourself properly. Do up those cuffs.’ She looked Nell up and down. ‘I really fail to understand how, after all my hard work, you have learned nothing about the manners and the behaviour of decent people.’ She sighed disapprovingly. ‘I suppose it was always too much to ask, turning a child from the gutter into a person of propriety.’
    The matron thumped away along the corridor with Nell following at a respectful distance; she could only wonder what she was supposed to have done wrong this time. She was sure she had