The Smell of Rebellion

Chapter Eleven

Hortensia had been walking for a considerable amount of time with an uneasy feeling lingering heavily over her before she realised someone was following her. The pit-pattering wasn't rain, they were footsteps. The squelch of mud also confirmed it. She kept walking, until, finally, she couldn't take the uneasy feeling anymore. "What're you following me for?" Hortensia turned, finally catching onto the tiny, pit-pattering footsteps that had been following her back.

She saw Matilda staring back at her. She looked flustered. "I'm sorry," she apologised, "I wanted to speak to you, if— if it's not too much trouble."

"None at all," Hortensia replied, wary. "Why?"

"I— well. The last time we spoke, we hardly got anything out, but I have a feeling you have the same ideas as me." Matilda replied, shocking Hortensia with her speech. She was well-mannered, certainly, and quiet, but she recognized the spunk in her voice, clear as day. And... and she was intelligent. Shockingly intelligent. Hortensia could hardly believe that those words had come from a Year One.

"Oh. Well, what might those ideas be?" Hortensia's interest was piqued.

Matilda hummed softly. "Well... I'll get straight to the point." She turned, facing Hortensia head-on. "It regards the Trunchbull."

The name forced shivers down her spine, raising hairs as the name slowly crawled into her mind. "W—What about... the Trunchbull?"

"Well, I get the impression that this entire school hates her. She's keeping yo— all of us stuck, like mice in a mousetrap. She's been showing off her power and threatening us with it, directly or not. Look what she's done to Bruce!" Her voice faltered at Bruce, and Hortensia felt a twinge of guilt. "It's her trick, I'm telling you."

"Trick?" Hortensia asked, puzzled. "What trick?" She was still trying to process how a Year One's words were so accurate, and how they cut so close to home, when Matilda responded.

"If you're going to do something outrageous," Matilda began, "never do it by the halves. Go the whole way—the full hog! That way, your story will sound so ridiculous and outlandish, no one will believe you. Really, who would believe that Miss Trunchbull threw Amanda over the fence or locked Bruce in a— a wooden chamber with spikes? No one, that's who!"

Hortensia froze. How had a Year One come to that realisation before Hortensia could even think of it. "That's– That's—"
Matilda tried to look tall, even though she was a little over a metre or so. "I know. The Trunchbull is a rotten old woman." She shook her head.

Hortensia clenched her fists, anger shining in her eyes. "I hate her. I hate that bloody, rotten, no-good Trunchbull."

Matilda stood by her without moving, like she was waiting for her to calm down. Her calm stare, her unbothered aura (that screamed, 'I'm used to this!', to Hortensia's unease), and those– those blue eyes staring at her– made her slightly uneasy.
Hortensia took a sharp breath, closing her eyes briefly. "My apologies," she said quickly to the little girl, wringing her hands.

"It's—It's no problem," she reassured.

Hortensia sagged in relief. However, the edge in her voice was sharp as ever as she said, "I swear to you right now, upon this spot," she looked around, "that I am going to take the Trunchbull down. I'm going to take that awful woman out of the seat of headmistress and chase her out of her own school alongside those awfully stuffy prefects holding hockey sticks!"

The little girl looked at her curiously. "Maybe we do have something in common," she suggested lightly. "We both want her gone."

Taken aback, Hortensia's head snapped around to stare. "Pardon me?"

"Yes," she said, meeting Hortensia's gaze with a steely one of her own. "Take the Trunchbull down."

"Sorry," she asked, "How are yo— we going to do that?" This kid can't be serious.

Matilda said, "Who knows? It'll take planning, but the two of us against the Trunchbull? Unlikely. But pitting the entire school against her?" She paused. "That's something worth thinking about."

"It certainly is," Hortensia agreed. The rain lightly sprinkling on her and her damp clothes stopped bothering her, and she had stopped shivering a while ago. "I'll... I'll try. I really will." The words were sincere, she knew, as she said them.

"I will as well."

Hortensia could only nod, the two of them standing in the forest silently, staring at each other,

Finally, Matilda extended a hand. "Let's shake on it."

And, as Hortensia took her hand and gave it a firm shake, it was a deal.

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A/N: Another short chapter, and also rushed at that, so my apologies. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I thank you all for reading this book! Huge thank you to my nine dedicated readers for helping this book reach 350 reads!

Thank you for reading, have a nice day!