‘When I’m there, Ruth is always there. What’s the matter?’

‘Well, I don’t want to alarm you. It’s probably nothing, children get these strange little fancies. One shouldn’t make too much of them, but then again, they need watching. I wonder if you’ve noticed anything like it.’

‘Like what exactly?’

It was play-time, and I saw a huddle of children near the sheds. I left it a while but they didn’t break up, so I went over to see what was going on. There was a ring of children, they were giggling, but some of them looked a bit frightened. Sitting on the ground was Terry Porter who’d apparently fallen over and cut his knee quite badly. Instead of coming up for medical attention he was just sitting there, looking white, and Ruth was sitting next to him. As I got there she put her hand on the cut and actually squeezed it, so the blood ran out quite violently, all down his leg. She said, ‘Make it bleed again, Terry’.’

Rachaela felt a strange delayed horror, moving so deep in her she scarcely knew what it was. She said nothing.

Miss Barrett, having waited for her, said, ‘Has Ruth ever done anything like that at home?’

‘No,’ said Rachaela.

‘Perhaps it’s never come up. Ruth’s had the usual odd spills and scrapes herself, but never anything very bloody. Sometimes children do get fascinated by blood.’

‘Yes.’

‘Maybe you should have a word. Or perhaps you’ve been telling her about when her periods will be due. Sometimes that sparks it off.’

‘No.’

‘Well it is a bit early.’

‘What happened?’ asked Rachaela. ‘I mean with the boy?’

‘Oh, Terry. Well, I just told Ruth not to be a silly girl and got him off to Nurse. Ruth is sometimes a bit, well, a bit unusual. The things she draws. And if we ask them to tell stories or act out little plays, Ruth’s are always rather gruesome. I sometimes wonder where she gets her ideas from.’ Miss Barrett looked at Rachaela with keen glasses.

‘I don’t censor her reading,’ said Rachaela.

‘No. Well, maybe you should be a little more strict. We’re very careful what we let them have.’

Rachaela remembered a drawing pinned up in Emma’s flat.

‘But you tell them about the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.’

‘Well of course. That’s Religious Knowledge.’

‘It’s also a very grim subject and Ruth painted it.’

‘Well I have to admit,’ said Miss Barrett, trying not to look at Denise’s tights, ‘I know they’re all fairly bloodthirsty little savages. They go on and on about the nails.’ She cheered up, having reassured herself. ‘That’s all it was, really. I thought you should know and keep an eye on her.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Miss Barrett.

Typical woman,’ said Jonquil disapprovingly, when Miss Barrett had gone.