Free My Name Is Rose by Sally Grindley Page A

wide world.
    Misconstruing this, Mrs Luca would say, ‘I’m so glad you’re getting on so well. I hoped you would.’
    To which Victoria would reply, ‘Anna will soon be like a sister to me, and I’m sure if she could speak for herself she’d say the same.’ Or she would smile a fake smile, which might have fooled her mother, but not Rose.
    It wasn’t Victoria, though, who caused the first real upset for Rose. It was the fact that Rose couldn’t write. From the moment Mrs Luca had bought the pile of notepads and pencils, Rose knew she would be found out. She resisted Mrs Luca’s initial encouragements to jot down anything she needed, but when her guardian made a very specific request that required an answer, Rose could see that either her refusal to communicate would be taken as insolence or her secret would be discovered.
    Esme and Nicu could scarcely read or write, only enough to sign their names and read maps. Esme had wanted both Rose and Rani to ‘have some education’, and they had attended local village schools whenever they stayed in one place for long enough to make it worthwhile. However, Rose had always felt too much of a stranger among the gadje children to concentrate on lessons, and the teachers often picked on her because of her lack of what they considered to be basic skills and knowledge. She fared no better with the schoolchildren, who sidelined her or were openly unfriendly because she was different, particularly if their parents had told them that Rose and Rani were Gypsies and not to be trusted.
    Mrs Luca wanted Rose to write down her five favourite meals. ‘I’ll have Marina cook them for you every now and again,’ she said, pleased with herself over the treat she was suggesting.
    Rose looked at her blankly. Even if she had been capable of writing something down, nothing could compare to Esme’s delicious meals.
    â€˜Don’t be shy, Anna,’ Mrs Luca persisted. ‘Everyone has their favourites and I want to know yours. Here, take this pencil and notepad and make a list.’
    Rose took the pencil and notepad and pretended she was thinking.
    â€˜Surely it can’t be that difficult,’ said Mrs Luca, beginning to sound a little impatient that her treat was being rejected. ‘Write down just one meal, and we can come back to the others when you’ve had more time to think.’
    Rose could feel herself becoming tearful. She took a deep breath and shook her head. She dared not look Mrs Luca in the face, so she stared fixedly at the floor, waiting to reap the anger that her action would undoubtedly cause.
    There was no visible anger. Mrs Luca simply left the room.

Chapter 15
    Rose’s secret was finally uncovered by her English teacher. Mrs Conta was a short, round, bespectacled, no-nonsense sort of woman, who nevertheless had a twinkle in her eye and a big heart. She was English herself and married to a Romanian engineer, and therefore able to speak Rose’s native language. When she was first introduced to Rose, she shook her hand warmly and expressed her wish that they would get on well and that, provided she studied hard, Rose would have a solid understanding of English in no time at all. Rose responded with a nod, which meant simply that she was listening, but nothing more.
    â€˜Perhaps the first words we shall hear you say will be in English.’ The teacher chuckled. ‘Wouldn’t that surprise everyone, Anna?’
    It would definitely surprise me! Rose thought.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ said Mrs Conta. ‘You’ll be under no pressure from me to speak if you’re not ready to. There’s plenty of written work we can do, and if you hear me saying the words frequently enough you’ll begin to understand them and know how to use them when need be.’
    She pointed to the door, a chair, a window, the clock, and said the name of each in English. She wrote the words on a