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'Nothing will prevent me. I trust you will take charge of the class while I go to the village for poor Susan?'

She came to the door again and Maurice heard hurried footsteps behind her as Magda followed. Miss Linnet had got as far as the open cellar door when Magda called her. She turned to face the woman who stormed towards her.

Magda shouted into the teacher's face. 'You will not leave this house!'

Maurice had never seen Magda so angry. Cross, yes, severe, it went with her nature, but never before had he watched her lose control like this, not even when she had cause to strike the children with her leather belt (but then, that was always carried out coldly). Her hard features were contorted, her face more white than usual, and her words had been spat out—literally, for he had seen the spittle fly from her mouth.

At first, whether in shock or to create space between herself and the raging woman, Miss Linnet retreated a step so that her back was to the open doorway behind her. But then she stood her ground, her face red as Magda's was white. She seemed consciously to control herself.

'Susan needs help, not punishment,' she said firmly. 'All the children need care and attention, not constant hardship, which is all they get from you and your brother.'

'You will not leave this house!' Magda repeated, taking another step closer to the teacher. 'Go back to the classroom immediately!'

Maurice felt his heart pound and he forgot to take a breath.

'You wretched child with your shrivelled arm. What have you done to cause the Lord's castigation?'

'I was born this way,' Miss Linnet replied evenly, Magda's jibe somehow calming rather than upsetting her. Perhaps experience of similar cruel remarks had taught her how to deal with it. 'Now please move out of my way. I'm going to the village.'

Magda's fury finally erupted. 'You evil girl!' she screeched and took another step towards the teacher, her arms stretched forward as she came. With great force she pushed at Miss Linnet's shoulders.

Astonished, the teacher teetered on the threshold of the cellar stairway. But Magda did not stop at one push. Incensed—and afraid of betrayal—she pushed the teacher again, even harder this time, and Miss Linnet toppled backwards.

Maurice watched in fascinated awe as the teacher fell into the darkness behind her. He heard her body tumbling down, striking the side walls as well as the steps as she went. Curiosity overcame trepidation and he ran forward to see what had happened to the young woman; the sound of her body hitting the concrete floor below with a resounding crunch came back up to him.

Magda seemed frozen to the spot when he reached her. She was staring into the cellar's blackness, but her eyes were unfocused, seeing nothing at all.

'Have you killed her, miss?' (Even when they were in bed together he called her 'miss'.) He turned away from her to squint into the gloom.

She did not answer and when he looked round at her, he saw something that might have been panic in those cold black eyes of hers. Then she appeared to gather herself—her shoulders twitched and stiffened, her chin lifted a fraction.

She spoke slowly and firmly, brooking no dispute. 'You saw what happened, Maurice. It was an awful accident. Miss Linnet missed her footing on the stairs.' Her voice hardly wavered at all when she said, 'Go down and see if she's badly hurt.'

His eyes returned to the pit. All he heard was the urgent susurration of rushing water from the well. He didn't want to go down there. Not alone.

'Maurice, did you hear what I said? I want you to go down to the cellar and see how Miss Linnet is.' She reached forward and gripped his shoulder. Her hand felt like an iron claw through his flannel shirt.

'But… but what if she's dead, miss?'

'Don't be silly, boy. It was only a fall due to her own carelessness.'

'Miss…?'

'Did any of the children see the accident?' There was a noticeable quiver in her voice and a restlessness about her eyes.

'No, miss, they were all at the tables.'

'So only you witnessed her accidentally fall.'

He took in a long breath. 'Yes, miss.'

'Good boy. Well, now you must go and see how Miss Linnet is. Here, I'll turn on the light for you.' She reached past him and stabbed at the light switch.

It was still dingy, but he could just make out a curled bundle lying at the foot of the stairs, a bundle he knew was a human body. He was startled when he thought he saw the shape twitch. He turned back to Magda. He was almost as tall as her and their eyes were level.

'Will you come with me?' he asked her nervously.

'Is that necessary, Maurice? Can't you go alone? The other children are unsupervised.'

'I'd prefer it if you come with me.' It was almost a whine.

She gave it a moment's thought and he could see the panic was still there at the back of her eyes. 'Very well,' she said stiffly, 'we'll go together. You can lead the way.'

As he hesitated on the top step, he was sure he saw movement below again.

'I don't think she's dead, Miss Cribben,' he whispered and Magda froze. It was then that he realized that Magda Cribben did not want the teacher to be alive.

Maurice momentarily closed his eyes as he remembered the frightening descent to the well cellar. Had it really been all those years ago? It was still vivid in his mind.

The brandy glass before him on the small table was nearly empty. Mustn't have another, though, had to keep a clear head. Yet he couldn't go up to the house too early. Make this one last then, drink the remains very slowly, appreciate its flavour.

Nancy Linnet was moving. She was pushing and pulling her battered body further into the dark cellar. She was desperate to get out of the light from the stairway, dim though it was, for she could hear footsteps approaching, heavy on the creaky wooden steps, and something—call it primal instinct—told her Magda Cribben was not coming down to help her. So Nancy dragged herself across the hard dusty floor, biting into her lower lip with the pain the effort caused her.

She knew that one of her legs was broken, because it was useless to her and hurt terribly, especially so each time she drew it along after her. Something was wrong with her back too, for her spine was numbed and her shoulders barely working. Tears of pain dropped from her eyes into the dirt beneath her and, although it was difficult to see, she continued to shuffle herself forward. She had to hide before Magda could hurt her again and at least the dingy light from behind helped her make out a deeper shadow ahead. When she blinked the tears away, she was able to see the black haven more clearly for a moment or two.

It was the entrance to the boiler room and if she could reach it, she would be able to hide there. She would have to be very quiet and very still, though, once she got inside. If only she could use both arms the effort would be so much easier, but her right arm had always been ineffective, just a withered limb that marred her life with its ugliness. So she managed with her left arm and her left leg to haul herself across the floor. She suddenly realized it was not only tears that were blurring her vision, but it was the blood streaming down her forehead also.

The boy, the sneak, the bully, watched from the bottom of the stairs. Magda had switched on the chamber's inadequate ceiling light and he could make out the figure on the floor as it crawled through the entrance to the boiler room. One of the teacher's legs dragged uselessly behind her and it seemed to be bent the wrong way. As if mesmerized, they both watched the teacher's progress. Gradually, her body slithering awkwardly, she disappeared inside the boiler room and the darkness devoured her.

Without further hesitation, Magda made her way to the boiler room and Maurice went with her. A churning mix of emotions caused his heart to beat even faster. There was anger at the teacher for threatening to betray his guardians and there was dread of the outcome now. Reigning over both was a feeling of excitement that made his limbs tremble and his brain tingle.