She looked up and down the street. It was a busy thoroughfare: carriages came and went in both directions; beggars and street sellers tried their luck; maidservants carried baskets of fruit and vegetables back to their houses; men ducked in and out of taverns; and those who emerged wrapped their cloaks tightly around them against the bitter February cold. The sky was overcast, with that sharp frowning grey that seemed to press down against the streets. It was not a day to be outside if you could help it. Sylvia shivered. A coachman shouted a series of obscenities at a black carriage that had pulled over not far from the school. He only just managed to avoid crashing into it. ‘Are you a complete eejit?’ he shouted at the rival coachman who, in reply, calmly raised his middle finger.Sylvia looked away. James would be here soon. Already a line of blue-coated boys were beginning to file down from the school. Suddenly she saw him, his fair hair visible under the schoolboy cap.
