The Declaration

her mind, tell her that it wasn’t her fault Mrs Pincent couldn’t keep them under control.
    Arriving at the door, Maisie took a deep breath, knocked loudly and waited.
    ‘Come in.’
    Maisie tentatively opened the door and stepped into Mrs Pincent’s office. It was a horrid, cold room, she thought to herself. The kind of room that sucked the soul out of you. Must’ve sucked the soul out of Mrs Pincent, that’s for sure, because the woman didn’t have one scrap of soul left. You could tell by looking at her eyes, if you ever dared, that was. They were black, beady, and lifeless. One peek was enough – you didn’t want to go looking into eyes like that for too long.
    Right now, they were worse than normal, she noticed apprehensively. They looked outraged and angry. Maisie supposed that whatever it was that Mrs Pincent had been doing at this time of night probably wasn’t something she wanted people knowing about.
    ‘What is it, Maisie?’
    Maisie opened her mouth to speak, still trying to find the right words. The gentleman was staring at her too, like she’d caught them doing something they weren’t supposed to. Maybe it was Mrs Pincent’s husband, Maisie thought. People said she didn’t have one any more, but maybe she did after all. Or maybe it wasn’t her husband – maybe that’s why they looked so uncomfortable.
    She looked furtively at him to see what he was like. Short and bald. As Maisie flicked her eyes back towards Mrs Pincent, she started slightly. He was putting something in a box, and if she wasn’t mistaken it looked like a syringe. She looked away quickly. If Maisie had learnt one thing in her life, it was that the less you knew, the less bother you got. She wanted to get out of that room just as soon as she could, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.
    ‘Well,’ she began, searching for the right words. You had to say something like this quite delicately, she thought to herself. You couldn’t just go announcing that two Surpluses had got out like you were announcing teatime, could you?
    ‘It’s about them Surpluses,’ she said eventually. ‘Them ones in Solitary.’
    She saw Mrs Pincent’s eyes narrow and dart over to the man, who was frowning. Maisie shrank back slightly.
    ‘ That Surplus,’ Mrs Pincent corrected her, her voice agitated. ‘There is only one Surplus in Solitary. What about him?’
    Maisie took a deep breath. ‘ Them Surpluses,’ she continued, her forehead beginning to emit little beads of sweat, ‘on account of there being two of them. Y’see, yesterday, while you was away, that other little tyke – I mean, Surplus, well, she was bothering us. Me and Mrs Larson, see. And it was her what said she should go to Solitary. Said she had it coming to her, what with her rudeness . . .’
    Maisie couldn’t help noticing that Mrs Pincent’s mood was blackening. Maisie’s heart started to pound in her chest. She knew she was babbling, but there was nothing she could do about it; she felt barely able to string a proper sentence together. And the worst thing was she hadn’t even got to the bad news yet.
    ‘And anyway, the thing is Mrs Pincent, and I don’t know how it happened, and I didn’t even know there was a hole in the wall or nothing, but I went down there just now, and they ain’t there any more, see? They’ve . . . they’ve gone, Mrs Pincent.’
    She looked up imploringly and winced as the full power of Mrs Pincent’s gaze fixed upon her.
    ‘What do you mean, they’ve gone?’ Mrs Pincent asked, her voice quiet, and her face thunderous.
    ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Maisie said immediately. ‘I wasn’t to know. You want to keep them Surpluses better behaved, that’s what you want to do. How was I meant to know they’d escape? I thought it was impossible to get out. I thought —’
    ‘Enough!’
    Mrs Pincent stepped forward and grabbed Maisie fiercely by the shoulders.
    ‘Now what exactly are you talking about?’ she asked menacingly, and Maisie shuddered. Mrs Pincent’s eyes were boring into her, and her nails were digging into her ample flesh. ‘And who are they ?’
    ‘The boy and the girl,’ Maisie whimpered. ‘Anna and that boy what was down there already. The new Pending. They’ve escaped, see. Last night, so far as I can tell.’
    ‘Impossible,’ Mrs Pincent said angrily. ‘There is no way of escaping from Grange Hall. You must be mistaken.’
    Maisie was tempted to agree with Mrs Pincent and leave, but she