I stood in the cold of my room where my cases lay half-packed on top of the press. I had hated Hettie for abandoning Mary without warning. What did this say of my own loyalty?

I sat down hard on the bed, my chest tight with emotion.

What would Clara have said at my cowardice – she who cared so much for every creature? And I recalled the day a stray dog had wandered into the garden of Swan House and attacked our beloved spaniel, Bertie, as he lay dreaming in the sun. The sound had torn through the air as we ran to find the cause and discovered the shocking violence of a fight. ‘Get a stick,’ I had screamed to Barbara, because the flashing teeth and the frenzied hunger in the dog’s eye left me too afraid to go near them.

And then Clara was there, shouting at the hounds and beating the stray with her fists and feet until Barbara came out with a pail of water and threw it at the snarling creatures. The stray fled, leaving Bertie shaking drops from his coat. And after we had checked that he was not hurt and changed Clara out of her wet gown, I had regarded her with wonder and shame.

Shame because I saw in her a courage I did not possess.

Candlelight caught my pillow and my heart stilled – there on the sheets was the bangle I had given Mary, and a note. ‘I will miss you.’ She knew. She had found my heart out before I had spoken of what was there.

A choke came up from my lungs. I touched the cold enamel of the bracelet – Clara. Clara who would never have fled from Mary as I planned to do. Clara, who I had left only for an hour or two because the dizzy scent of bluebells was in the air and I had promised to buy material for new dresses. I closed my eyes in remembrance.

‘Go,’ Clara had said.

‘But I can’t leave you alone.’

‘Go, go, get ribbon too.’ Her words, though slightly garbled, were clearer to me than the best orator.

And so I had gone, without even a kiss, snatching my purse carelessly from the table and tying my boots in a flutter of sudden joy. I had secured a few more students. We could survive and I was filled with the pride and relief that knowledge bestowed. I remembered now how I had turned at the gate, Clara at the window, her thin, white arm waving wildly, and I had laughed. And the sun had washed across the grass and painted it brighter for my happiness. My beautiful Clara.