Babylon Read Free Page B

like a child’s building block that had once belonged to a Brobdingnagian nursery.
    I dawdled, uncertain of what I should do, or what, later, say. I held my arms by my sides, clenching and unclenching my fists. I was a Shulamite, I told myself. I had known that I was destined for the sisterhood ever since I had been a little girl. Besides, I had taken the first and most important step yesterday, when I had revealed the existence of another Madeleine Fell. She was stronger than me. And she refused to go back into the shadows.   Come , I thought, as I passed through the entrance marked GIRLS,   come ,   take my hand.   And I felt something ghostly, something demoni acal, slip its fingers between my own.
    Together, we would prevail.
     

     
    ‘And they were at the hospital all night?’ asked Miss Nelson.
    ‘They went as soon as they discovered my Nan was sick,’ I said. ‘And they only got back this morning, just as I was leaving for school.’ I had spent the last hour in the outside lavatory, fret ting over a suitable excuse. I knew nobody liked to talk about the   London Hospital. Those admitted rarely left. And it was a   favourite   haunt of vivisectionists.
    ‘But you’re sure they’ll have the letter ready by tomorrow?’
    ‘Yes, Madam,’ I said, horribly aware that my lips had begun to tremble. I had always been good at hiding the truth, but I had   never   been a particularly competent liar.
    Miss   Nelson sighed. ‘Very well, I think we can wait another   day.   Tomorrow is Wednesday. The recruiting officer will be here   on   Thursday. And of course Friday is a holiday. So that letter really   must   be on my desk by tomorrow morning. I trust you will ensure it is.’
    ‘Thank you, Madam.’ I walked to my desk and sat down, congratulating myself that, in something under twenty-four   hours, I   had progressed from goose girl, to prima donna, to duplicitous tart.
    Lizzie ignored me.
    For the next hour we did fractions and algebra. It took little effort. I did the computations mechanically while my gaze flitted about the classroom, taking in abacus, blackboard, specimen cabinet, and wall charts. My mind had been freed. It drifted above the rooftops — no longer  in  the city of Gog and Magog, no longer in dear old London Town, but translated into the faraway land delineated by the Mercator projection that hung behind Miss Nelson’s desk: Modern Babylon. The names of its provinces curled about me like wisps of smoking incense: Zermagad, Sheba, Uruk, Sheol, Engedi, Gehenna, and Tirzah. I breathed deep, filling my soul with their wondrous scent.
    By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth :   I   sought him, but I found him not. I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth   . ..
    Ding-a-ling-a-ling. Ding-a-ling-a-ling. Outside, in the corridor, the monitors were ringing their handbells, signalling morning recess. I put away my slate, rose from my seat, and turned to confront Lizzie (I was about to attempt a reconciliation); but at that moment Cliticia Lipski began to walk down the aisle, her long fingernails tapping at each dark, varnished desktop. Alerted by that staccato overture, Lizzie looked over her shoulder, met the gaze of her rival, and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
    Cliticia drew to a halt. She was so close we were almost toe-to-toe. Placing her hands on her hips, she gazed up at me. ‘We want to talk to you,’ she said, narrowing her eyes. ‘We want to talk to you   now .’
    ‘Well, excuse   me ,’ said Lizzie, sidling past us and flouncing out of the classroom.
    Cliticia held up a hand and crooked her finger. I followed her into the corridor and then out into the girls’ playground. The wind had changed direction; it was growing cold. We would, it seemed, have another hard winter. I would be all right. The top standard had a stove. But for many pupils — particularly those who came to