Learning came easily to her. Although she was sometimes in trouble through getting into one scrape or another, it was never for anything very serious and after some minor punishment was duly forgotten. Although she got on well with most of her fellow pupils it was an English girl, fluent in French, who became her special friend from the very first day. ‘My name is Joanna Townsend. I’m new here, Lisette.’ They were facing each other in the dormitory where they were to sleep with six other girls. Joanna had an impudent little face with a turned-up nose covered with freckles and smiling hazel eyes, her hair a tangle of bright, coppery curls. ‘Me, too,’ Lisette answered. ‘How did you know my name?’ ‘By the label on your trunk. Let’s be friends.’ Joanna’s father had business interests in Paris where he lived with his wife and daughter, but in summer he took a house on the Brittany coast where Lisette was invited to stay and which Isabelle encouraged. The two girls swam and explored and picnicked with the young of other families until another summer was over and they travelled back to school together again.
