Bird broke in. She was calling from the landing, “Rwobert, has Denton come yet?” She could never say Rs properly, and she often used my Christian name.

She came in without waiting for an answer, and began to talk at once. Under her grey wiry hair her flat glasses winked as she smiled.

“Cadbury’s has sent everyone a sample box of chocolates, and I’ve kept yours for you. You must eat them, and then write down which you like best.”

I was grateful for her warmth and for the chocolates. I looked down, not knowing what to say.

When I lifted my eyes again, Mrs. Bird was staring at me.

“You don’t look well,” she said. “Are you very tired 1 I’ll ask Matron to take your temperature.”

I think Bird was glad of the excuse, for he said, “I don’t need you any more, Welch; you’d better go along to Matron.”

I passed through the double doors from the master’s to the boys* part of the House and knocked on the Matron’s door.

“Mrs. Bird wants you to take my temperature,” I said. She did not answer, but began:

“You naughty boy, where have you been?” as if I were five years old. Then she went to the wooden hanging-cupboard and fetched the thermometer in the little glass jar. I tasted the disinfectant as she put the glass rod under my tongue. She stared at her yellow-faced clock and felt my pulse with her dry fingers. Her face was the colour of dry earth against the whiteness of her cap.

“It’s nearly a hundred,” she said unprofessionally. “I’d better go and tell Mrs. Bird. You wait here.”

She rustled out and I was left looking at a picture called “Cherry Ripe”. When she came back with Mrs. Bird I was still staring at the oleograph.

“Would you like to go to the San., Denton?” Mrs. Bird asked. I was very surprised and delighted, but I felt I had to say, “I’m not really ill, Mrs. Bird. I’m just a bit tired.”

“I think it would do you good to go up there and have a rest.”

I said nothing. I was too happy to contradict her. Matron was already looking on the shelves for my clothes, and Mrs. Bird went to order the taxi.

So I left the House again without speaking to a single boy.

Capture12

       

As the heavy maid led me along the passage I felt anxious. Sister might not be friendly; she might also be very inquisitive.

I clutched the handle of my suitcase tightly when I caught sight of her small white figure at the end of the corridor. She came forward, very businesslike, her head pushed forward like a greedy bird. “Oh, here you are, Welch! I’ve put you in No. 5, quite near me. I must say you don’t look very ill, with that colour.”

I was blushing and trying to appear at ease. She led me into one of the smallest wards, where there were only two beds.