This monstrosity from just over two years ago (thankfully never published; I cut a bit off the end to make it work as a standalone instead of the longer work it was going to be)
No title because I'm terrible with titles and this was never really developed enough to give me ideas.
Millie Kent sat in her final lesson of the day, History (extremely boring; all about how wicked Lord Darkness’s enemies were), clock-watching and wondering, for the hundredth time that week, why she was never allowed to sit next to her friends.
Perhaps it was because Mr Johnson, the deputy head, didn’t like her – and it was he who allocated the seating arrangements.
She certainly didn’t know why he hated her so much – she had heard some rumour of a grudge against her father, but Isaac Kent would never have deliberately hurt anyone’s feelings.
But that was irrelevant – one minute to go…
As the teacher began listing homework, one of the Prefects strolled nonchalantly in, not needing to knock.
In this school, one Prefect was always on duty near the Head’s Office to fetch students or teachers they needed. Millie had put her name forward for the honour of becoming a Prefect, but had been refused.
That was yet another problem with the Deputy Head having a mysterious grudge on her father.
“Millie Kent to Head Office, please.”
She was puzzled by this – although the Head was famously strict, Millie couldn’t think of anything she had done wrong.
“I expect you are wondering why you have been called here, Kent?”
Millie winced at the old-fashioned custom, which she hated, of referring to pupils by their surnames; but she said nothing, and instead nodded.
“Lord Darkness has asked me to select, from the pupils of this school, a companion for his daughter Laura. I have chosen you.”
“But… why? Sir,” she hastily added.
“I think you are a reasonably sensible girl who knows authority when she sees it.”
Millie was stunned by this – the Head was famous for never paying compliments, among other strictnesses.
But she was even more stunned by the idea of being a companion to Lord Darkness’s daughter.
“Suppose – supposing I refused to go, sir?”
He took a moment before he responded, weighing his words carefully.
“I believe your father does part-time secretarial work?”
Casual and irrelevant as the words would seem to an outside observer, Millie shivered with fear.
Her father did indeed do part-time secretarial work. The problem was that some of his customers were dodgy characters, by the sound of things – even secret agents – and if anyone working for Lord Darkness ever got to know of it…
Millie had decided long ago not to think of what would happen then.
Her father wasn’t doing any of this stuff, he had reassured her; in fact, he was only involved in it at all because these people paid him twice the going rate for secretarial work, and he needed money: Millie was the eldest of five children and their mother was long since dead. He had to use this secretarial work to supplement the meagre income from his little newsagent’s shop.
“I just do what I’m told to do, take my money and leave. That’s all, Millie, I swear it’s all.”
And now here was the Head bringing up this matter in what was clearly a threat.
Millie couldn’t possibly let that happen.
“I’m afraid I fail to see the relevance of that to this topic, sir,” she blurted, “but of course I do not mean to refuse this offer – I merely wondered what would happen if I did, sir, but my father… may not grant me permission, I’m afraid, sir.”
The Head smiled a little.
“I am sure that your father won’t refuse, Kent. You may go – in fact,” he went on, glancing at his watch, “you may as well go home – there is only a minute left of lessons. Tell your father that Lord Darkness will send a carriage to your home tomorrow after school.”
Millie dipped her head.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, turning and leaving, suddenly realising that her legs were trembling.
She reached the playground a fraction of a second before the rest of her class.
She knew what she had to do – collect her younger sister, Lizzie, from her first year class – the other three were still in primary school.
Her father was too busy to walk her home, so since the age of ten, Millie had gone home with Sarah and Claire next door.
The girls all walked home in bunches – Millie was with most of her third-year class as well as Lizzie and a few other younger siblings.
“What did the Head want?” asked Scarlet, her best friend.
Millie looked suggestively at Lizzie.
“Not here, Scarlet. Tomorrow in the tree.”
Scarlet and Millie had long since discovered the secret of the hollow oak in the corner of the playground, and they used it for secret conversations.
If this isn’t secret, thought Millie, then I don’t know what is!
The bunch of girls passed the primary school and a large crowd of other children came dashing out.
Millie looked for the other three siblings – Jack, aged ten and nearly old enough to go to the boys’ school over the road; Clara, aged seven but somehow expert at guessing how people felt; and little Ruby, who had only just started school.
Five years old.
Five years since Mother died.
Don’t think about it!
They all clustered around Millie and Lizzie and Scarlet, who was lucky enough to be an only child and had no siblings to pester her.
“Are you alright, Millie,” asked Clara, “you seem quieter than normal!”
“Maybe she’s in love,” suggested Jack.
“Yes!” cried Lizzie, who loved everything romantic, “Millie’s in love! Who’s the lucky boy, Millie? Do tell me!”
But Millie shook her head.
“No, I’m not in love,” she said.
“You seem… nervous. Yes, that’s it. You’re nervous. You’ve been offered some new opportunity and you can’t decide whether to take it.”
Clara really was uncannily perceptive.
“Correct as always, Clara.”
There followed a clamour of questions.
Millie knew she couldn’t tell any of them the truth.
“Oh – I’ve been offered… a music scholarship. Someone cancelled at the last moment because their mother was ill and they had to stay at home and look after them – I’ve been asked to take their place – very short notice – I’m leaving tomorrow if I accept.”
Millie tried to shake off the delighted comments – “Oh, you should, really, I think you’ll be fabulous” and the like – and at the same time communicate to Scarlet that she was lying. It wasn’t easy.
But she allowed herself to be “persuaded” to take up the scholarship offer – “only if Father lets me – you know he’d find it very hard without me to help him in the shop…”
Lizzie volunteered for that honour: “Oh! Let me, let me, I’m old enough now…”
And then they were home. Millie unlocked the door and called, “Father! We’re home!” adding to her siblings, “now I’m going to talk to Father about the scholarship – don’t disturb us, please,” removed her shoes and went to Father’s study.
“What is it, Millie dear?”
He was busy.
“Father, my siblings think I’ve come to talk to you about a music scholarship, but I lied – I made that up –“
He looked startled – Isaac Kent had brought his children up never to lie – but Millie pressed on.
“Here’s what really happened – oh, Father, I’m so frightened…”
And she told him the whole story. She ended by saying: “I hope I did right, but I didn’t really feel I had a choice…”
“Millie,” he said, “my darling Millie, you poor girl, I hope I can burden you with the truth. They blackmailed you by threatening me, but when you are at Darkness Castle they will do the exact opposite – if I don’t do what they say they’ll kill you – and they would, too. And they’ll make me spy – there’s a lot of important information passing through my hands, and I’ll have to give it all to them – “
Then Millie was truly terrified.
“But father – what will we do?”
“The only thing we can do is leave.”
So the next morning, Millie found herself taking a note to the Head.
In it was the following:
Dear Mr Brown,
I am sorry to inform you that I and my four youngest children have been taken ill. As Millie has already had the disease in question, there is no risk of infection. I ask that you do not oblige her to attend school today as I need her to look after the five of us and finish packing.
Thank you.
Yours sincerely,
Isaac Kent.
This letter was, of course, a lie. None of them were at all ill.
Millie hurried home to prepare for all the packing.
The next few hours were hectic – throwing things into boxes, preparing them to be loaded onto the wagon which was due to take them out of the country.
Finally, half an hour before the wagon was due, they were ready.
Millie went over to the other children, all of whom believed this frantic packing was for a holiday – Father had said he’d “completely forgotten about it” – he was sometimes rather absent-minded, so that wasn’t too unusual, luckily.
“Are you nearly ready?”
They all nodded, clutching bags containing their favourite toys excitedly.
“Why do we need to take the saucepan on holiday?” asked Lizzie.
“Oh… err… The place we’re staying is self-catering, so Father thought it best to take them just in case.”
Clara asked to speak to Millie alone.
Tucked into the small bathroom, Millie waited.
“You’re lying.”
Millie blinked. She was used to Clara’s ‘sixth sense’ by now, but it still surprised her very often.
“About what?” she asked.
“The holiday. We’re not coming home, are we? Oh, and you also lied about the music scholarship.”
Millie didn’t know what to say.
“Go and ask Father,” she choked out, “I’m a bit busy!”
She returned to the others.
“I’m bored!” said Ruby. “Tell me a story, Millie!”
Millie thought quickly.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl called… um… Tamsin and she had two little siblings and a twin brother…”
She scraped along in this ridiculous manner for twenty minutes, and then the doorbell rang. Millie seized the opportunity to escape.
“That’ll be the wagon,” she said, “I’d better go and let the man in.”
She hurried to the door and opened it.
It wasn’t the wagon.
Instead there were two men dressed in what even Millie could recognise as the uniform of Lord Darkness’s footmen.
“Millie Kent?” one of them asked.
“Yes, that’s me. I’ll just go and say goodbye to my family, then I’ll be with you.”
She dashed back.
“Ruby, the scholarship people are here!”
Lizzie and Jack crowded round – Clara must have followed her advice and spoken to Father.
“I’ll write to you every week with the next instalment of the story – I’ll write to all three of you! Goodbye! See you soon!”
Every word felt terrible – she knew she would never come back to this house, and she might never make it to the new house in another country.
She knocked on the door of Father’s study.
“Father – they’re here – Lord Darkness’s men – I have to go!”
He gasped – he knew more than the others that he might never see his daughter again.
“Goodbye, Millie. Write often.”
She sighed.
“I will, Father. And Clara? Promise me you won’t worry about me. Ever.”
Clara stared back up at her with her little beady eyes.
“I promise, Millie. And I will see you again.”
Millie turned and left, struggling not to cry.
She picked up her heavy trunk and carried it downstairs.
“I’m ready,” she said, and climbed into the waiting coach.
As it began to move, Millie saw the wagon arrive and her family running out and loading things onto it.
She felt a powerful, heart-wrenching urge to dash back and leap up onto the wagon and refuse to move.
But she couldn’t do that.
...yeah, ouch. My twelve-year-old self had a complete lack of subtlety and any decent description, and that's just for starters. This is going to be interesting.