Celandine by Steve Augarde

Author:Steve Augarde
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781409098768
Publisher: RHCP

The handle turned easily and the hinge was smooth and silent. Celandine peeped into the room. Here too there was a soft glow of light, another mantle turned down low, and she immediately saw that the room was occupied. A bed stood in the near corner, and there was a sleeping child in it. The girl lay with fists clenched and arms flung out, as though she was running a race. Her face was familiar, but it was not Nina’s face. Tiny Lewis? Yes, Tiny Lewis. One of the second-formers, probably down with a cold.

Her instinct had been wrong, then. Celandine began to close the door, but then realized that there was a second bed at the far end of the room. It was partly hidden behind a folding screen. Was that her? She moved forward, so that she could see around the angle of the screen. Yes, that was Nina.

There was a canvas chair next to the bed – one of the tubular-framed ones that were sometimes used for school concerts. A tumbler of water stood on the bedside cabinet, and against the glass was propped a pale blue envelope, a letter, addressed to Nina. The water was apparently untouched, and the letter unopened. It didn’t look as though Nina had yet regained consciousness. Celandine sat on the chair, put her hands between her knees, and tried to control her shivering.

They had bandaged Nina’s head. It was very neatly done, the broad strips of white gauze criss-crossing perfectly, like a diagram from a textbook. And the pillow and bedclothes were smooth and unrumpled – further indication that Nina had not moved during the hours that she had lain there. She was motionless now, lying flat on her back, as still as a waxwork. Celandine leaned closer. The very slightest rise and fall of the starched cotton sheet, tucked so tightly across the thin shoulders, reassured her that Nina was actually alive and breathing.

‘Nina,’ she whispered. ‘Can you hear me?’

No response. Not a flicker. Celandine glanced beyond the folding screen at the sleeping figure of Tiny Lewis, whose tousled hair and sprawling pose seemed so full of life and energy by comparison.

Gingerly she put out her hand as if to touch the bandaged head of her friend, but then thought better of it. Nina looked so pale and vulnerable. She would not disturb her. Instead she held her palm uncertainly for a moment above the neat bindings, before slowly withdrawing it.

Curious, though, the brief sensation of heat that she had felt in that moment: as if her outstretched fingers had passed through a wisp of steam. Had she imagined it? Celandine considered for a while longer, before hesitantly extending her hand once more, allowing it to hover just above Nina’s forehead.

A tingling sensation in her palm – it was definitely there – but then it was probably just a reaction from the beating she had taken. That must be the reason. Celandine closed her eyes and slowly moved her hand

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