‘Matron wants you, Sicky.’

‘You’d better get along to her room instead of standing there gaping.’ Her three tormentors – with Isobel Cartwright as the ring-leader – had brought her the command and now they stood close together, their heads bent towards each other, giggling and whispering.

Kate’s stomach contracted. She had no choice but to obey the summons. She tucked the shell she was holding under her pillow and slipped off the edge of the high bed. With an exaggerated movement the girls stood back out of her way.

‘Dun’t get near ’er,’ Isobel mimicked. ‘She’ll be sick all ovver ya.’

‘She will be sick when she knows what Matron wants her for.’ They all laughed again.

As Kate moved away from her bed, Isobel pounced forward and thrust her hand under the pillow. ‘Let’s see what you’re hiding under here . . .’

Kate whirled around and lunged at the girl, but too late. Isobel held up the whelk shell. ‘Look, Sicky’s got a pwetty shell. Ah! Here, Brenda, catch.’

Isobel tossed the shell high over Kate’s head and Brenda caught it deftly. Kate turned and caught hold of Brenda’s arms. ‘Give it me!’ she cried. ‘Give it back. It’s mine.’

Brenda threw it to Hazel and the three of them encircled her, throwing it from one to the other.

Kate was almost weeping with frustration. ‘You’ve no right to tek me shell.’ The anger welled up in her and she screamed. ‘Give it me back!’

The door was flung open and the Matron marched into the room. ‘What is all this noise about?’

Immediately Isobel put her hand holding the shell behind her back and turned innocent eyes upon the Matron.

Matron’s gaze came to rest upon Kate’s hot face and dishevelled hair. ‘Katharine Hilton – come with me this instant.’

Without waiting to see if the girl obeyed her, the woman turned and left the room. Kate swung back to Isobel. ‘Give me my shell.’

The hand remained behind the girl’s back. ‘Shell?’ the girl drawled, her cold eyes narrowing, ‘What shell might that be?’

‘You’d better get along to Matron’s room else you’ll be in more trouble,’ Hazel warned.

Kate hesitated, then, casting a vicious glance at Isobel, she muttered through her teeth, ‘You wait, Isobel Cartwright, just you wait!’

Pushing Hazel aside, Kate stormed out of the dormitory.

The Matron was standing in the centre of the medical room with a large pair of scissors in her hands. ‘Now, my girl. Since you cannot, apparently, keep your hair neatly plaited, it’s time we cut it to regulation length.’

Horrified, Kate wheeled around to run from the room but found her way barred by the daunting figure of Miss Denham advancing into the room behind her.