“Consensus? Well, it means everyone agrees.”

“Do you ask everyone?”

“No, clever-boots. But I doubt a book’s been written that we haven’t consulted.”

“And who writes the books?” I asked.

“All sorts of people. Now stop asking questions and eat your breakfast; you’re going to be late for school.”

The bell rang for lunch, and I saw Lizzie in her usual place outside the school gates, looking awkward. I wanted to run to her, but I didn’t.

“You mustn’t let them see you cry,” she said as she took my hand.

“I haven’t been crying.”

“You have, and I know why. I saw them teasing you.”

I shrugged and felt more tears spring to my eyes. I looked down at my feet stepping one in front of the other.

“What’s it about?” she asked.

I held up my funny fingers. She grabbed them, kissed them and blew a raspberry in my palm. I couldn’t help laughing.

“Half their fathers have funny fingers, you know.”

I looked up at her.

“True. Them that work in the type foundry wear their burns like a badge telling the whole of Jericho their trade. Their littluns are scamps for teasing you.”

“But I’m different.”

“We’s all different,” she said. But she didn’t understand.

“I’m like the word alphabetary,” I said.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s one of my birthday words, but Da says it’s obsolete. No use to anyone.”

Lizzie laughed. “Do you talk like that in class?”

I shrugged again.

“They have different kinds of families, Essymay. They’s not used to talking about words and books and history the way you and your da do. Some people feel better about themselves if they can pull others down a bit. When you’re older things will change, I promise.”

We walked on in silence. The closer we got to the Scriptorium, the better I felt.

After eating sandwiches in the kitchen with Lizzie and Mrs. Ballard, I crossed the garden to the Scriptorium. One by one, the assistants looked up from their lunch or their words to see who had come in. I went quietly and sat beside Da. He cleared some space, and I took an exercise book from my satchel to practise the longhand I’d been learning in school. When I was done, I slid off my chair and under the sorting table.