Red Dove, Listen to the Wind by Sonia Antaki & Andrew Bosley

Author:Sonia Antaki & Andrew Bosley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Chair Press
Published: 2019-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

›› Red-Handed ‹‹

The hours hung heavy as Red Dove waited for dawn. She longed for sleep, but was too afraid. At last, a milky glow seeped through the little window. She listened hard, but apart from a few scattered rustlings, all was quiet. She pulled off the covers and lowered her feet to the frigid floor. The morning chill froze her breath as she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and, reaching under the mattress, stuffed the pouch carefully between the thin pad and the metal bedframe.

Pushing aside the plain white curtain and gazing through the icy pane at the fields beyond, she scoured the horizon. There wasn’t much to see—a dappled pony; trees, withered and lifeless against a leaden sky; squash and potatoes harvested; corn stalks cut; hay mowed.

Where is he? And how am I going to find him?

A sudden clatter from the kitchen told her the day had begun.

Too late now, she thought sadly, pulling the blanket tighter and climbing back into bed.

Sister Mary Rose burst into the room. “They’re accusin’ you, child. They’re sayin’ you took Sister Agatha’s diary.”

“I didn’t!”

“I told ’em that, but Miriam said she saw ya with it—”

“She’s lying.”

“That she is, but they all think Walks Alone gave it to ya before he ran away, an’ that you’re hidin’ it here, somewhere.” Sister Mary Rose tilted her head. “So I said I’d come an’ give a look. Let’s prove ’em wrong, shall we?”

Red Dove nodded—and then realized: If she does, she’ll see the pouch. “Don’t.”

“Why not? It’s the only way.” Before Red Dove could say more, the nun crouched down, curled her hand between the mattress and the bed frame, and jumped back. “Dear God,” she gasped.

Did she find the pouch?

But it was something else the nun was holding: a small, red, velvet-covered book.

“What is it?” Red Dove asked.

“What d’ya think? Her diary. How d’ya explain it?”

“I didn’t take it.”

“An’ I believe ya. ‘Cause I have a pretty good idea who did—Miriam herself, most like. Hid it here whilst you were sleepin’.” Sister Mary Rose opened the book and started scanning the pages. “That explains why she was so keen to look after ya—”

“We should give it back—”

“Do you know what Sister Agatha would do to ya if ya did?”

“Then we’d better hide it.”

“Yes… just let me have a wee look first.” The nun started riffling through the pages.

“Don’t. You’ll get us in more trouble. Hide it. Please,” Red Dove begged, but Sister Mary Rose kept turning pages until she found something.

“Here, read this.” She pushed the book under Red Dove’s nose.

“I don’t want to see it,” Red Dove said.

“Then why’d you take it?” Sister Agatha roared, sweeping into the room and grabbing the diary. “Caught you both red-handed, didn’t I?”

“I–” stammered Sister Mary Rose, too startled to say more.

“Reading my private diary,” Sister Agatha thundered. “How dare you? Go and wait for me in my office,” she said, nostrils flaring. “Now.”

“Yes, Sister.” Head down, Sister Mary Rose darted out of the room.

“And you. Come with me.

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