‘Come away from the window please, Evie,’ Harriet Watson said. ‘I told you, it isn’t time to go yet.’

‘The big hand is pointing down to the number six and you said that’s the time I can go home,’ Evie replied.

‘Well, as you can see, it’s not quite there yet,’ Harriet said, sharply. ‘There are at least two more minutes to go.’

There was no doubt about it, this one was a smart little cookie. In Harriet’s opinion, she was far too smart for her own good.

Evie’s face darkened. ‘Where’s Miss Akhtar? She’s my proper teacher.’

Harriet took a step towards her and the child sat down, shrinking back into her chair. ‘I am in charge of these after-school sessions.’ Harriet spoke slowly and precisely. ‘They have nothing at all to do with Miss Akhtar.’

Evie folded her arms and looked away. Harriet moved in front of her and perched on the edge of the desk. ‘You know your mummy’s worried about you, don’t you?’

The child looked up at her and frowned. ‘No,’ she said.

‘No, Miss Watson,’ Harriet corrected her. ‘Your mummy told me she’s very worried about you and so is your nanny. They’re both concerned that you’re being a naughty girl at St Saviour’s.’

‘I’m not!’ Evie’s eyes grew wide and her bottom lip wobbled. ‘I’m not being a naughty girl.’

‘You know that and I know that, too, Evie,’ Harriet said smoothly. ‘But others do not. I want to tell your mummy you’re being a good girl, I really do. But . . .’

The child looked at her with shining eyes.

‘Between you and me, it’s Miss Akhtar who thinks you’re a bad girl.’

‘I’m not.’ A tear rolled down Evie’s ruddy cheek. ‘I’m not bad.’

‘I know that, Evie,’ Harriet said, appropriating a kind tone. ‘And I’ve told her that when you’re with me, you’re very well behaved. Which you are, aren’t you?’

Evie gave a faint nod but didn’t seem entirely convinced of it herself. The child wiped away the tears defiantly with the cuff of her school sweatshirt.

Evie had complained, this session, about every single thing she’d been asked to do. She’d refused to draw and had snapped two wax crayons on purpose. She had constantly yawned and counted her fingers while Harriet tried to read with her. And for the last ten minutes she’d barely interacted at all. Her eyes had been glued to the clock.

‘You see, if Miss Akhtar reports you to the head teacher, you won’t be able to come here anymore, Evie. They’ll send you to the place for naughty children.’

Evie’s eyes grew wide and fearful. ‘Where is it, the naughty place?’

‘It’s miles away,’ Harriet told her. ‘You might even have to live there, away from your mummy and nanny, away from me.’

The child burst into tears.

‘Come on now, wipe your eyes.’ Harriet handed her a tissue, looking with distaste at the child’s tear-streaked cheeks and snotty nose. ‘I’ll tell them you’re not to be sent to the naughty school. If you want me to, that is? If you would rather stay here with me?’

Evie sniffed, wiped her nose and nodded, never taking her eyes from Harriet’s.

‘At least, that’s what I want to tell them. But first, you have to make me a promise that you mustn’t tell Mummy or Nanny about our little chat. Can you do that?’

Evie nodded.

‘You mustn’t tell them anything about the school for naughty children. Do you promise me?’

‘Yes,’ the child said in a silly, mardy voice. ‘Is it like the one Matilda went to, with Miss Trunchbull?’

Harriet sighed. This was the trouble with children today. Too much television and cinema nonsense, instead of useful lessons that would prepare them for the harsh realities of the outside world.

‘Matilda is just a silly story, it isn’t real.’ Harriet gingerly nipped the corner of Evie’s tissue with her fingertips and threw it into the bin. ‘I expect your mummy gets rather annoyed with you sometimes, doesn’t she?’

Evie nodded and her eyes glittered.

‘You mustn’t cry again, is that clear?’

Evie nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘What does Mummy say to you, when she’s angry?’

Evie thought for a moment. ‘She says I have to come to school.’

Harriet nodded. ‘And she’s right. It’s the law that you have to come to school. If you don’t, a policeman might visit the house.’

Evie’s chin wrinkled as she chewed on her bottom lip. She knew this was true because her mummy had said as much.

‘And tell me, when Mummy gets angry, does she take her tablets?’

Evie frowned and shook her head.

‘I mean the tablets that make her go to sleep.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Evie said brightly, understanding. ‘They’re in the bathroom cabinet, up where I can’t reach without a chair. She goes to sleep for ages. Sometimes I get hungry and bored.’

‘I expect you do.’ Harriet smiled. ‘And it’s hard to wake Mummy, isn’t it, when she falls fast asleep in the daytime?’

Evie nodded. ‘I have to do this.’ The child mimed shaking something aggressively. ‘And I have to shout “MUMMMMYYY”.’

Her yell ricocheted around the empty library space.

‘Hush,’ Harriet hissed, glancing at the door. The last thing she wanted was to attract the attention of Mr Bryce, the bumbling, interfering old caretaker who refused to retire. ‘There’s no need for that racket.’

Evie looked at the floor.

‘As I was saying, the only other school around here is the place the bad children go. There are big boys there who will kick your shins in class,’ Harriet said. ‘So you must stop saying you don’t want to come to St Saviour’s. Do you understand, Evie?’

‘Yes,’ Evie said meekly. ‘I won’t say it anymore.’

‘That’s good. And you mustn’t tell anyone what we’ve talked about. You won’t have to go there, if you do what I say. Am I making myself clear?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes, Miss Watson,’ Harriet directed her.

‘Yes, Miss Watson.’

‘Very well.’ Harriet smiled. ‘So, I want you to tell Mummy you’ve had a good day at school and that Miss Watson is very pleased with you. Which I am.’

Evie nodded and the ghost of a smile skittered across her lips.

‘Heavens!’ Harriet glanced at the clock. It was a full ten minutes after finishing time. ‘Your mummy is rather late. Stay here while I go and check to see if she’s waiting out in reception.’