May bit her lip, scrunched her eyes closed and extended her hand, palm upwards. The ruler descended with a crack. There was a sharp sting, but May knew from experience that the worst pain would come a second later.

‘That will teach you not to waste your time scribbling instead of getting on with your work. You are not a baby. You are thirteen years old. You should know better.’

‘But …’ The word was out before May could stop it.

‘But … BUT!’ Miss Bale’s hollow cheeks flushed crimson. ‘You dare “but” me, miss? Hold out the other hand.’

This time the blow was harder and tears forced themselves between May’s closed lids. She opened her eyes and gazed up at the schoolmistress. It might mean further punishment, but the injustice was too great to be born.

‘But I finished all the sums!’

For an instant Miss Bale’s eyes flickered. ‘Show me.’

May held up her slate. Down the centre was a neat column of sums, all worked out and all, she was sure, correct. Around them, the borders of the slate were decorated with an intricate pattern of leaves and flowers. May thought it looked rather beautiful.

‘So you have time to waste!’ Miss Bale’s voice grated with anger. ‘We shall have to make sure in future that you have enough to keep you occupied. Now, clean this mess off your slate and do the sums again. Go back to your seat.’

May returned to her place on the bench and reluctantly began to scrub her slate clean. Her friend Patty nudged her arm and gave her a quick look of sympathy, but neither of them dared to speak.

By the time May had redone the sums the bell had sounded for dinner, but as she rose to follow the other girls, Miss Bale’s voice cut through the scraping of benches and the shuffling of feet. ‘Not you, miss! You can sit back down and work these new sums, since you’re so quick at it.’

She wrote six more sums on the blackboard and May’s spirits sank. By the time she finished them dinner would be almost over. She would be lucky to get anything to eat before supper.

When at last she had finished and was dismissed, it occurred to her that Miss Bale had probably missed her meal as well. That was some comfort. In the dining hall, the children had finished eating. The boys were dismissed first, and May had to wait by the door as they filed out. From habit she searched the line for one bright ginger head. Poor Gus! Saddled with the double burden of red hair and a ridiculous name. She had been luckier. Her hair was darker, more like the colour of one of last year’s conkers. She did not mind being called May, but she thought Augustus was a cruel infliction on a small boy.