The young handyman/gardener had taken a shine to her, though, as if he didn't notice the horrible affliction. It had turned out to be propitious when Percy Judd was drafted into the army and taken away from Crickley Hall.
She loved the kids. Spoilt them. Always smiling at them and patting their heads as if they were angels from God. Didn't have a clue how to discipline them, although they always behaved when she was around; they weren't afraid to open their mouths to her. The kids adored Miss Linnet.
Well, she never patted Maurice's head. He couldn't even remember her smiling at him. Maybe the first couple of days. Then she turned against him, even though he tried to please her. So he turned against her, reported her soft ways with the orphans to Magda, knowing Magda would tell Augustus.
But as the weeks went by, the teacher became more and more rebellious, protesting whenever Augustus had cause to chastise the older children with the cane, and actually blocked his way when he tried to punish the younger ones by the same means. She was against all other punishments too, the denial of food, the hall vigil, Magda's leather-belt strapping—she decried all these punishments.
Then one day if happened: Miss Linnet threatened to go to the school authorities and denounce the Cribbens for the cruel (her word) way they treated the evacuees. Susan Trainer had been the catalyst.
It was evening and the children were taking their turns in the bath. Susan had been washing the smaller ones until it was time for her to dip into the three inches of water with Brenda Prosser. Maurice had been at the landing door that lead up to the dormitory, making sure the children went straight to bed after their baths, when a panicky scream had pierced the air.
Magda Cribben, at her usual place on a chair outside the bathroom, shot to her feet. Over the balcony, Maurice saw Augustus quickly striding across the hall, alerted by the noise. His footsteps were heavy on the stairs and he passed by Maurice with a look of thunder on his face. Maurice followed him to the bathroom's open door, where Augustus stopped abruptly, the boy almost bumping into him. Maurice peered over his guardian's shoulder.
Brenda was out of the bath, dripping water onto the tiled floor. She was naked and shivering, her frightened eyes on the cowering figure still in the bath. Magda slapped her face to stop her gibberings.
The naked figure in the bath was Susan and her legs were bent, her shoulders hunched, and blood was visible on her fingers as she clutched herself between her legs. The blood had streaked her legs and turned the bathwater red. Maurice remembered the scene as if it were yesterday.
'Susan's hurt,' Brenda wailed, pointing at her older friend.
Maurice was fascinated, not by the sight of two nude girls, Susan with her budding breasts, but by the blood on Susan's legs. Augustus seemed to be transfixed.
'Stop it, child!' Magda told Brenda briskly, and pushed her to one side. The teacher's eyes narrowed and her voice was full of disdain. 'You horrid, dirty girl,' she rasped at Susan. Grabbing a damp towel from the metal rack, she shoved it at the distressed eleven-year-old. 'Use this! Soak up the bleeding!'
'What is it, miss?' Susan asked timorously. 'Am I dying?'
'Of course you're not' There was no compassion in Magda's reassurance, only anger and disgust. 'There's nothing the matter with you.'
'Why am I bleeding?'
'Because you're impure. This is a woman's illness, a curse from the Lord to punish them for Original Sin.'
'But I haven't sinned, miss. I promise, I haven't done anything.'
'Well, you must have. You're far too young for menstruation.' She spat the word out, as if its mere expression was iniquitous. 'You're a wicked girl!'
Augustus finally spoke, and his voice was brutal. 'She must be kept away from the others or her uncleanliness will taint them all.'
In the corner of the bathroom, Brenda was now crouched and sobbing. Susan had shrunk away from Magda and was cringing against the tiled wall.
'Please help me,' she pleaded, first looking at the woman, and then at the man.
Magda snatched her wrist. 'Come with me. We've a place for dirty girls.' She pulled Susan to the edge of the bath and, to stop herself falling, the girl stepped out still clutching the reddened towel to her body.
Augustus grabbed her by the other arm and Maurice quickly stepped aside as brother and sister brought the bowed girl out of the bathroom between them.
'My clothes!' Susan shrieked, dragging her feet.
Augustus and his sister merely tightened their grip and pulled her along the landing.
'You will not need clothes where you're going, child,' Magda sneered.
The other children had gathered at the bottom of the stairs to the dormitory, none of them daring to venture out onto the landing. Two of the youngest, Stefan and Patience, were clinging to Eugene Smith, both of them crying.
Maurice would never forget the shame on Susan's face as she was led naked past her friends, and he would never forget the smugness he felt as he trailed behind, even though he was mystified by the girl's condition. Had she cut herself somehow, would she bleed and bleed until she was dead?
Susan screeched as the brother and sister dragged her down the stairs and across the grand hall, spots of blood dropping behind her as if to mark her path. They ignored her desperate entreaties, for she knew where they were taking her. Maurice watched from the landing balcony and was afraid for himself. There was grim spite on Magda's hard face, while Augustus stared resolutely ahead, his deep-set black eyes burning wickedly, a glistening of spittle on his thin lower lip. It was then that Maurice, only twelve years old but big for his age and both cunning and smart, truly understood that there was madness in his guardian, which ran just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any given moment. The boy had witnessed the man's wrath many times, but this evening there was a light behind Augustus's dark eyes that hinted at barely suppressed violence and insanity. Maurice sensed it as much as he saw it and he was in a terrified kind of awe. Somehow, perception told him he would always be in terror and awe of Augustus Cribben, even after the man was dead.
Magda waited at the cellar door as her brother took the recalcitrant girl below. The sound of Susan's shrill remonstrations came back out into the hall, amplified by the cellar's brick walls and the narrow staircase. Suddenly, her cries were cut off.
Maurice heard heavy footsteps on the creaky narrow stairs, and then Augustus stood in the doorway next to Magda. The children, who had at last crept out onto the landing to look through the balustrade, all scooted back upstairs to the dormitory. Brenda Prosser, having dressed and left the bathroom, followed after them. But Maurice continued to watch, scared but fascinated. At that point, he seriously wondered if Susan Trainer had been murdered in the cellar. Augustus's words to his sister swiftly put an end to this notion.
'She'll remain there until the impurity has been purged from her body. I've counselled her to pray for her damaged soul and she is not to eat until her discharge is complete.'
'That will be days, brother,' Maurice heard Magda say.
Augustus's features were like granite, tough and uncompromising. 'That will be her penance. You'll give her water only.'