The Magpie Effect - The Magpie Chronicles Book 1 (#Wattys2015)

Chapter 14.1

For the second time in a week, I found myself sitting outside Mrs Vanderbilt's office. I was pretty sure that, given a few extra mishaps and meetings, the chairs in the waiting area would have my butt-print eternally pressed into them.

There were no words to express my fury. There wasn't a single arrangement of the twenty-six letters of the alphabet that could suitably summarise the way I felt towards Carmen Vespin. Hate was polite. Hate, I decided, was the most generous understatement ever known to man.

At the sound of Mrs Vanderbilt's office door opening, my head jolted upright. I had to dig my nails into the frame of the chair as Carmen Vespin herself slipped through it, freshly clad in replacement clothes. Her hair was pulled back into a clumsy ponytail, and she hadn't redressed her face.

Mrs Vanderbilt appeared behind her and watched as Carmen stalked off down the corridor, but not before she could pin me with a contemptuous glare. In that moment, it took everything I had in my power not to jump out of my chair and wrap my hands around her spindly little neck.

"Miss Sweetman? Don't make me repeat myself again, I said come in."

I turned, caught unawares. Mrs Vanderbilt was staring directly at me, her entire body radiating impatience. I climbed to my feet, muttered my apology, and shuffled into the office. She closed the door behind me with a resonating click, and then went to sit behind her desk. I sat opposite her, the same as before.

"It seems that you can't quite stay out of trouble, Miss Sweetman," said Mrs Vanderbilt. Her gaze was incarcerating. "I don't think I've ever seen quite so much of you."

"Lucky you." I kept my eyes firmly planted on the ground.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Mrs Vanderbilt."

She eyed me testily. "Now is not the time to develop an ego, Miss Sweetman. I assume that you're aware of the accusations that have been made against you?"

"Yes."

"And you are aware that Holly Ryeland attested to Miss Vespin's account of the events that took place this morning at the Cathedral Caves?"

"Obviously," I replied. God, why did she always have to talk like she was some tacky judge on daytime TV?

Mrs Vanderbilt ignored me. "Miss Vespin claims that you provoked her in the caves by using an unsightly mask, and that when she fled the scene, you followed her out onto the banks of the river, and pushed her into it. Do you understand the gravity of these accusations?"

"You can't seriously believe I would-"

"Would you like a mint, Miss Sweetman?"

I winced. "Eh?"

Mrs Vanderbilt reached into her pocket, pulled out a little silver tin, and popped a small pill-shaped item from the tin into her mouth. "A mint. Would you like one?"

I stared at her warily, as though she were setting me up for some sort of trick that involved mind-altering mints that would drag the truth off my tongue. "Um, no, thank you."

"Very well." She tucked the mints back into her pocket and then laced her fingers before her. "What I need from you is an account of events that adhere as closely to the truth as you see fit. Whenever you're ready, Miss Sweetman."

I launched into a detailed description of what had taken place in the caves, missing out all the parts that involved my ghostly comrade and making up other parts to ensure the whole thing stayed afloat: I didn't see who was wearing the mask, but it certainly wasn't me, and Carmen had fallen into the river as a result of her own idiocy (although I politely substituted that with the word 'clumsiness'). I couldn't deny that I'd rushed forward just as Carmen 'fell' into the river; other people had seen me.