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uttering his monotone triumph call. He settled before her to devour his sparrow and she heard the brittle crunch of splintering beak and bone. It was time to go in. And to her surprise the indoor house was warm and bright with forgiveness. Nanny and Vera were clanking about in the kitchen; they smiled when they saw her and Francis and Rhona treated her with special politeness, as though she had returned from a long journey. There were tomatoes for tea, their tops sliced off and sprinkled with sugar so that they could be eaten with a teaspoon. Vera shook green crystals into the bath and the water changed to dazzling emerald and the steaming air was sweet with lily of the valley.
    Janet almost abandoned the vengeful plan she had made earlier, which was to read illicitly under the bedclothes with the big black bicycle lamp she had removed from the garden shed. But in the end this pleasure was too great to be forgone, with its added comfort of prolonging the day and creating a cavern of light in the windy darkness. However, it proved extremely difficult to focus the light on the large thick pages of Arthur Rackham ’ s Grimm ’ s, to cope with the tissue covering each illustration and to stop the sheet sagging down - all in silence under the blankets. Soon the lamp crashed to the floor and went out. Another crime, another strategy for the next day. Meshed in guilt Janet lay awake for a long time; she worried about the lamp and she worried about the forgiveness in which she had basked all evening; in the dark she knew that it had been offered because they thought she was sorry for what she had done, and she wasn ’ t sorry at all. In fact, she was angry with the boys for falling through the rotten floor and failing to clear up the matter of the witch and for telling their mothers about the lost cat. Her power had been broken; she would not be wanting them as suitors any more. She shut her eyes and prayed for help with the bicycle lamp. In the morning it was clear that God had answered her prayer, for Hector and Vera were away and Nanny was busy ironing baby clothes.
    Later in the day, Hector reappeared and told the children that they had a new little sister, Louisa, born early, before they had expected her. He took them to the nursing home and Janet was moved by the baby ’ s tiny crimson feet, delicate and soft as silk or rose petals. None the less she would have preferred a new little dog or cat, but at least she had been able to replace the lamp in the shed and no one would be likely to care about it with this new confusion in their lives. Vera and the baby came home. The scent of baby powder pervaded the house, visitors came with flowers, tender little white garments were constantly airing over the nursery fireguard and an exuberance of nappies billowed in the sea breeze. Vera ’ s room was in contrast to the bustle everywhere else; it was the baby ’ s sanctuary, profoundly still and warm. The dogs, the cat, Francis, Rhona and Janet were all drawn to it, edging the door open, tiptoeing in, only to be seized and expelled by the sentinel form of Nanny. Once a day was the decree, and once a day only did they gain admission to its mysteries. Then they could watch the baby being fed, or bathed, or even hold her. Janet found this boring; it was the sacred atmosphere of the room itself which she enjoyed.
    She and Francis were usually sent out quite soon because they were fidgeting but Rhona loved helping with the baby and was allowed to stay. She was a peaceful, self-contained child; her black hair was smooth and shiny and it hung in a neat curve about her pointed face. Vera took great pleasure in her ‘ piquant little features ’ and her neat, nimble ways. Francis, like Janet, was naturally untidy, but then as Nanny would say to Vera, ‘ He ’ s a real boy. ’ Janet had no hope of ever being tidy: her hair grew wilder and frizzier, escaping from its pigtails, tangling in everything it touched; her hair ribbons fell off,