Free Brightling by Rebecca Lisle

that’s her rat catcher, Scare-a-mouse.’
    â€˜
Scaramouch
,’ Sparrow said, squeezing him gently. She moved him onto her other arm. ‘We’ve walked a lot,’ she explained, with a yawn. ‘We’re both really tired.’
    â€˜Come and sit by me, my angel,’ Miss Minter said. ‘You look all-in. Billie Blue-eyes, darling, will you get her something to drink. Kate, bring some food.’
    Two girls jumped up to do her bidding. There was some sort of kitchen off the main room and Sparrow heard pans clattering and dishes being banged against each other as they busied themselves.
    Sparrow sat down beside Miss Minter on the hard, velvet chaise longue. Her head was spinning and her legs were weak after all the walking. Her feet were stinging from pounding the roads. She sighed and crumpled on the sofa, overcome with exhaustion.
    Miss Minter smelled of flowers. She smiled brightly. ‘What a wonderful cat,’ she said, her voice clear, each syllable pronounced. ‘I like cats. Some cats  …  I
hate
some cats.’
    Sparrow was confused. ‘Sorry, miss, what did you say? I’m so tired  … ’
    â€˜I said I love your cat,’ Miss Minter said, reaching out a delicate white hand to stroke him, but Scaramouch flinched.
    â€˜He’s shy,’ Sparrow said. ‘Nervous. The pie man said he wasn’t very well.’
    â€˜He’ll get better here,’ Miss Minter said. ‘With us.’
    Glori was leaning over the back of a tall chair and was resting her chin in her hands, watching them. ‘Yeah, he’ll get better here, he will,’ she said. ‘In the nest. Hey, Sparrow’s the first real bird our nest’s ever had!’
    The other girls giggled.
    â€˜
Nest?
’ Sparrow looked from one face to the other.
    â€˜This is our nest,’ the girl called Billie said. ‘Used to be the Crow’s Nest like at the top of a ship’s mast, now it’s just the
nest
. Home.’
    â€˜What about you, my angel, are you really a bird?’ Miss Minter went on. She stoked Sparrow’s cheek, just as she had stroked the cat. ‘You’re not shy, are you?’
    â€˜No. Not at all.’ Sparrow met Miss Minter’s penetrating gaze. ‘I’ve been brought up tough. Not shy.’
    â€˜We need to be strong, we girls,’ Miss Minter said, gently. ‘We stick together and help each other. Let me introduce you to everyone. This is Agnes and that is gorgeous, red-haired Kate and this is Billie with the blue, blue eyes. Here we have dear little Hettie. Violet is the dark one – oh, darling Violet, don’t scowl at me! And Beattie is the blonde. Connie and Dolly are twins; I’ve no idea which is which. Is that everyone? Oh dear, I forgot my Gloriana. And now there’s you, Sparrow, to make a round ten.’
    Sparrow said hello to them and immediately forgot their names.
    They sat at the big wooden table and shared bread and cheese and drank hot chocolate. The other girls watched Sparrow with interest. They all wanted to ask her questions.
    â€˜Where are you from, then?’
    â€˜Got a family?’
    â€˜Have you run away from home, is it?’
    Sparrow said nothing.
    â€˜Don’t ask her so many questions. Don’t stare at her so,’ Miss Minter said calmly. ‘Show some decorum and leave her alone, please. She is our visitor, our guest. We must be gentle with her.’
    â€˜What’s decorum?’ someone muttered, but the girls backed away and went to their beds, which were tucked in below the low ceiling and between the wooden beams. They began whispering and giggling. Only Glori stayed behind, as if, being the oldest, she had some special rights. Miss Minter picked up a newspaper and started to read it. ‘You can relax now, Sparrow, you are amongst friends here,’ she murmured, scanning the pages of her paper. ‘Goodness, there are some