scott street

7: SOPHIE

To Father and Honora,

I am excelling in classes and have restarted my v. popular Lunchtime Lectures. Aggie is just fine. Arachne says she likes the scarf with the ogre on it. I remind you once again not to disclose to your brats the nature of my schooling and to tell whatever lies you have to in order to stop them spreading it around the village like the common cold.

From,

Sophie.

Letter-writing quota done and dusted, Sophie rammed it into the envelope and tossed it onto the pile at the feet of the raven that delivered student letters.

"Not very long," he croaked.

"No one said anything about letter length," said Sophie, kicking her boots up onto the desk and considering the rest of the class around her. Lady Lesso had introduced a mandatory Admin period at the end of each week, probably because the Nevers were so bad at writing letters and filling in forms that their families weren't even entirely sure if their children were at School or not. After the chaos of last year, the governors had suggested the Nevers ought to write home more, and Lesso had started enforcing it once Vex's mother had admitted she hadn't even known he'd gotten into Evil, and had just assumed he'd run away from home.

Dot was scrawling a long, scribbly letter to her father, and Anadil had written maybe one side. Sophie leant over and read Hort's latest appeal to the Crypt Keeper over his shoulder.

"This spelling is appalling, poopsie."

"Tedros said it looked okay."

Sophie shuddered. Ever since Hort had been paired with Tedros in Surviving Fairy Tales, they'd practically unionised. She didn't think Tedros had much patience for Hort, but some was worse than none. She resolved to make like an unethical employer and union-bust as soon as possible.

"Teddy can't spell, darling, he's stupid and old-fashioned." said Sophie. "I'm the Reader. I doubt he would know literature if it hit him with a big stick. Maybe he can't read at all. Give me that."

She knew he could, but she wasn't going to squander an opportunity to slander Tedros.

"Tedros is going to Agatha's book club, though," said Hort, as Sophie scrawled corrections in the margins. It was a chore, but she needed him in her good graces. Especially if Tedros was threatening to give him a concept of self-determination.

"That doesn't prove he can read, it just proves he's desperate," said Sophie, handing it briskly back and casting about the room. Vex had his pen up his nose. Ravan had already handed his letter in and was shooting spitwads at the back of Brone's head.
For her part, Hester was sitting in the corner with narrowed eyes and arms folded. She'd written something the first week, to the relatives in Thicket Tumble that had provided her love potion recipes in first year, but nothing else since. Sophie didn't get the impression she was close with them. Not that Sophie was lately getting the impression that Hester made herself agreeable to anybody.

Hester had never exactly been genteel, and it wasn't as if Sophie had forgotten the multiple attempts on her life, but she'd thought they had that in common, now. And they had at least been allies and covenmates, if not necessarily friends, since the word friends was about as alien to Hester as words like soap or haute couture. She had been snappish and aggressive in Gavaldon, but she'd become full-blown unstable, this term. Sophie had expected to be gloated at, when she'd arrived back in Malice 66. Instead she'd gotten a blank, black stare and a 'if you leave your shoes on my bed, I'll run the heel through your throat.' She'd laughed. Hester hadn't. Sophie had changed the subject.