Dreams at Silver Spires Read Free Page B

zooming across that hall at a hundred miles an hour and nearly crashed into the poor lady when I reached the window.
    â€œHello, my name’s Emily Dowd, I’m in Year Seven,” I gabbled, giving her my best smile as I held out my hand.
    The lady’s eyes really sparkled as she shook my hand, and I was surprised because I was expecting a gentle handshake and yet she’d got a really strong grip. It must have shown on my face that she’d squeezed a bit too hard, because the sparkle was suddenly replaced by a look of horror. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m always doing that!” she said, clapping her hand to her mouth. “My husband used to tell me I ought to cool it a bit or I’d make people faint! Anyway it’s nice to see you again.”
    I couldn’t help laughing. The lady sounded practically like someone of my own age. But I was a bit confused. What did she mean when she said “again”?
    â€œMy name is Emily Peters,” she went on, then she glanced at my hair and nodded. “So that’s two things we have in common.”
    I felt my heart beating faster but I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was just the coincidence. Or maybe it was because suddenly I didn’t feel bored any more. I was actually enjoying the thought of finding out all about this other Emily. Only there was one problem – I wasn’t sure if I should be calling her “Emily” or “Mrs. Peters”.
    â€œMy nickname is Ems,” I said, hoping that she might give me a clue about what I was supposed to call her .
    But she didn’t. She just smiled again and said, “Ems, that’s nice.”
    â€œEr…have we met before?”
    She frowned as though she didn’t know what I was talking about, but then she broke into a kind of knowing smile. “You’re the girl I saw when I was driving in, aren’t you?”
    That gave me another surprise. Emily Peters was so observant. I couldn’t believe that she’d recognized me, though I expect I might have recognized her too if I’d not had the sun in my eyes earlier. I suddenly wanted to find out what she thought about the silver spires, but she might have thought I was a bit weird if I came out with such a question straight away. So I asked her something a bit more normal instead. “Er…which year were you in fifty years ago?”
    â€œI understand from Ms. Carmichael that it’s called Year Nine,” she replied, her eyes flickering towards the window. “Only we didn’t call it Year Nine back then. We called it Upper Fourth.”
    I wondered if she was already a bit bored with me, because she seemed more interested in something outside. Yet when I looked out myself, there was nothing to see.
    â€œOh, sorry, Ems,” she suddenly said, leaning forwards and looking at me properly. “I’m so rude, aren’t I?” Then she laughed. “Fancy having to apologize twice in such a short time. I was just looking at the grounds.” She sighed a sort of satisfied sigh. “I can’t wait for the guided tour. There’s something I particularly want to see.”
    â€œReally? What’s that?” She’d definitely got me curious now. “ I could be your guide if you want,” I said impulsively.
    Her eyes seemed to be boring into mine as though she was trying to work out whether I’d made a bad suggestion or a good one, but then she slowly shook her head.
    â€œDon’t worry. I ought to wait for the official tour, I suppose. It’s just that I used to run a gardening club. That’s probably the memory that stands out the most for me from my time here. And I badly want to see if the vegetable garden’s still here.”
    I gasped. “Oh! Wow!” She’d really given me a shock with those words. A lovely one. But a bit of a scary one too, because that made three things we had in common. I was just about to