Free I Am Margaret by Corinna Turner Page B

Richard or Sidney or the judge or the minions. They’d been doing a job, but this woman had enjoyed every minute of Uncle Peter’s torment.
    Images cascaded through my mind, memories from earliest childhood, Uncle Peter lifting me up, up onto his shoulders, Uncle Peter sitting on the carpet with me, trying to teach me subtraction with rows of sweets, Uncle Peter saying Mass, holding the bread before our eyes as it became Our Lord, Uncle Peter listening gravely to every little childhood sin I confessed, replying with words of healing and encouragement, always, always taking me seriously in everything, always, always teaching me, teaching me math, teaching me morals, teaching me hope, teaching me joy… and this woman, this stupid, wicked woman, dared to gloat over his physical body, dared to say that was all he was!
    I wished her in hell and I could’ve sent her there myself.
    “Margo?” whispered Caroline tearfully, staring at me wide-eyed.
    My teeth were about ready to break, they were clenched so tight. With effort, I relaxed my mouth, realizing Captain Wallis hadn’t finished with Bethan yet—Bethan was crying and struggling as the warden pushed her face harder and harder into the glass.
    “ Open your eyes, you little fool! Open them! Take a good close look...”
    “Please,” sobbed Bethan, “please, I’m sorry! What did I do? Please, I don’t want to, please stop…”
    Captain Wallis put a finger and thumb to Bethan’s face and tried to force her lids open—Bethan started screaming...
    I’d reached them before I was aware of taking a decision to move; I pulled Bethan out of the Captain’s grasp and pushed her behind me.
    “How dare you...” hissed the warden.
    My mouth opened on vicious, venomous words… And again I saw Uncle Peter, lying on that table, his fingers raised in blessing, heard his voice whispering, ‘I forgive you’. I stood there in front of the woman and though I shook from head to foot, I swallowed those words. I don’t know how, so it must’ve been grace. It was not me.
    “Captain,” I said coolly instead. “I was just wondering; when is the next ReAssignees Welfare Board inspection?”
    She stared at me, reading the anger and hate in my eyes, seeing the rebellion in my interference and definitely understanding the threat in my mild words. Her hands twitched, as though she’d smash my head into the glass. But it was a very good threat.
    “Girls,” she barked at last, still staring balefully at me, “You will each take a proper look at these useless scraps and when the last one of you has done so, you may go back to your dormitory.”
    Everyone shrank back, so she grabbed the nearest girl and shoved her up against the glass as well, and as the girl stumbled away whimpering, everyone suddenly decided to obey after all. There was rather a scrum as they all tried to touch their noses to the glass to prove they’d done it.
    After that, satisfied at last, the warden marched us back to our dorm, where chaos promptly reigned. Girls threw themselves into each other’s arms, sobbing, or lay on their bunks, staring at the wall; Jane paced up and down the center of the room, snapping at anyone who got in her way; Sarah, Bethan and Hazel went into a nervous huddle and Harriet, Caroline and Annie continued to cling to me like limpets.
    I tried my best to comfort them but I was near the end of my tether. I shook uncontrollably, nausea threatened to overwhelm me, and I kept losing track of who’d said what to whom. It was no use. If I didn’t get out of there, I was going to lose it.
    Pleading a need for the bathroom, I coaxed Harriet, Caroline and Annie into a mutual hug and bolted for the buzzer. Fortunately the guard arrived before anyone noticed my sudden availability as a shoulder to cry on, and I made my escape.
    “You going to be long, lass?” asked the elderly guard, sounding bored. He made no move to step into the washroom and out of the camera’s eye—the smarter guards