She must have brought that home from Whitgift’s, Sadie thought, wondering how much it cost and how many vegetables it would have paid for. But she said nothing. Ella was quivering with cold and looked tired and wan even before she started. It was as if she was trying to obliterate every trace of her natural self. ‘Is that the same cream you gave me?’ Sadie asked as Ella’s cheeks disappeared under a coating of white. ‘What’s in it?’ ‘It’s ceruse. White lead.’ Ella dabbed blots of cochineal paper onto her cheeks so that they flared suddenly pink. ‘It smells like metal. Who’d want that on their skin?’ ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Everyone does. There’s no harm in it. I wish you’d bloody do it. Instead of sitting here your whole life. Pass me that comb, will you.’ Sadie handed it to her, feeling a stab of guilt. ‘Sorry, Ell,’ she said, ‘about the other day. Let’s be friends, shall we?’ ‘Who’s not friends?’ But her voice was cold.
