Chapter two

I was very worried during the journey. Was I making a mistake? I was going alone to a strange house, to teach two children that I did not know. But it was a beautiful day, and when I arrived, the house was a pleasant surprise. It was large, but light, with open windows and bright flowers in the gardens. And Flora was the most beautiful child that I have ever seen. Her hair was gold in colour, and her dress was blue. She and Mrs Grose, the housekeeper, were there to meet me.

Mrs Grose seemed to be a kind, good woman, and at supper that evening, I asked her about Miles, the boy.

‘If you like this little girl, you will like the boy, too,’ she said. She smiled at Flora, and Flora smiled at us both. ‘He’s so clever.’

‘When will I see him? Tomorrow?’

‘No, the day after.’

I was very excited that night, and did not sleep much. I heard some small sounds in the house; perhaps someone was awake. My room was large and comfortable. There was a little bed in it for Flora, but on my first night she slept with Mrs Grose. I woke up with the birds, and looked forward to my first full day with her.

Flora showed me everything in the house and garden. She showed me the secret places, the old stairs, the empty rooms. After half an hour we were good friends.

‘Perhaps,’ I thought, ‘I’m in some wonderful story. But, no, it’s real, and it will be an adventure for me.’

I remembered my promise to my employer that evening. A letter came from Miles’s school. I was not excited now, but worried. The head at the school wrote that Miles could not go back there again.

‘They won’t take him back!’ I told Mrs Grose.

‘Never?’ she asked, surprised.

‘Never. Here, you can read the letter.’

I gave it to her but she shook her head sadly.

‘I cannot read,’ she said. ‘What has he done?’ she was almost crying.

‘They don’t say. But they think that he’s dangerous to the other children.’

‘Dangerous?’ Mrs Grose was angry now.

‘Is he a bad child?’

‘He’s only ten years old! How can he be bad? Is she bad?’ She pointed at Flora, who was sitting quietly at the table. The little girl was writing, practising her letter ‘O’s.

‘Naughty, then?’ I asked her.

‘Oh yes, of course, he is sometimes naughty! But-‘

‘Every boy must be naughty sometimes.’

‘Yes! A boy who is not naughty is not a boy for me!’

Later, before Miles arrived, I asked her about the last governess. ‘What kind of lady was she?’

‘She was young and pretty like you.’

‘Was she careful with the boy?’

‘With some things – yes. But perhaps not with everything. But she’s dead now, so I mustn’t speak badly of her.’

‘Yes, of course,’ I said, quickly. ‘Was she ill? Did she die here?’

‘No, she went for a holiday. Then she died – the master told me.’

‘How did she die?’

‘He didn’t say.’ And she would not tell me anymore.

Miles was as beautiful as his sister. I loved him too, as soon as I saw him. He had a sweet innocence, and I could not understand the school’s letter.

‘He can’t be bad! It’s not possible!’ I said to Mrs Grose later. ‘Look at him!’

‘Yes, I look at him all the time,’ she smiled. ‘What will you do?’

‘I won’t answer the letter. I can’t write to his uncle. And I won’t speak to Miles about it.’

‘Good!’ Mrs Grose said. ‘Then together we’ll be friends to the two children.’ She kissed me like a sister.