Enid is leaning over the banisters, staring with joy at the scene in the Main Hall. She has a piece of butterless toast in her hand but is too excited to eat it.
“Come back and sit at the table,” Mr Graves says.
“I´m fine,” Enid replies. She´s spotted Mr Dedalus coming through the crowd. It´s only when she sees him that she realises that all the other people in the hall are different shades of grey, just as they were in the school photographs. Mr Dedalus, in his dressing gown, dowdy as it is, is a riot of colour.
“What´s going on down there?” asks Mr Graves, peering into the crowd.
“A meeting, I think,” replies Enid.
“Go back into the Common Room, please,” Mr Dedalus announces, coming up the last flight of stairs. “Please, both of you, go back into the Common Room.”
Mr Graves and Enid do as the headmaster says and Mr Dedalus follows them. They are in the girls´ Common Room and there are some feminine touches to what might otherwise be a plain, drab space. Prettily embroidered throws adorn battered-looking sofas and there are drawings in frames on the old chest of drawers which skirts the far wall. Pride of place is a large wireless, positioned on an ornate table beside the door.
“I do apologise,” Mr Dedalus is saying. “This is all rather unforeseen. I apologise also for my attire, but I´m afraid the, erm, gathering below caught me unprepared.”
“Are those pupils down there?” asks Mr Graves. “I saw a few were wearing uniforms.”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” nods the headmaster, starting to wring his hands. “I´m sorry but before we go on I need to ask all of you a question. Rather a strange question, but I beg you humour me and answer it. Have any of you, at any time since you´ve been here at the school, entered the Library?”
“No,” answer Mr and Mrs Graves together.
“No, sir,” answers Enid.
“And another, I´m afraid,” continues Mr Dedalus, rubbing his forehead. He´s more nervous than he´d thought: his fingers trembling. “Have any of you written anything down since you´ve been on school grounds. Anything at all? A diary? Even a letter or a note?”
Again, all three answer “no”.
“May we ask why?” asks Mrs Graves.
“You may ask,” replies the headmaster, “but I´m afraid it´s rather difficult to explain.” He scratches his head. “Now what are we to do?”
“Could Enid perhaps take the exams?” asks Mr Graves. “The weather´s cleared up and if it´s all the same to you, Mr Dedalus, we might be making our way back to London later this morning if we get our business done here.”
“What? Exams? Yes, well, I don´t see why not.”
Mr Graves turns to Enid: “Are you ready?”
“I´ll just brush my teeth, if I may?”
“Go on then.”
Enid leaves quietly. She is acting like the perfect child for she is very happy. She skips along the banisters looking down at the noisy melee in the hall and marvels at her power. She knew this place would be special!
So I am The One! she laughs.
Back in the dormitory she takes the old paper she´d written on the night before, folds it into four and tucks it into the pocket of her dress.