“It is a church function.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Will asked at the door.
“We are expected at the church,” Maud said, facing her teacher. “You cannot keep us here against our will, Mr. Mustard. Especially when we are expected at the church to do His work.”
“We are playing an important role in the church dialogue,” Annie said.
Mr. Mustard pretended to be interested in a student’s paper.
“I’ll be sure to tell Mrs. Stovel that you’ll be a bit late,” Will said as he left the classroom.
“You are the oldest students in school and should be setting an example.” Mr. Mustard said after Will had gone. “I expected more from you.”
“If you don’t treat us as if we are children,” Annie said, “you might see something better from us.”
“Watch your tone, Miss McTaggart. I tend not to whip girls, but if this wildly inappropriate behavior continues, you might see it.”
Annie breathed hard through her nose. “I would hate for you to see what happens when I tell my parents how you spoke to me.”
Mr. Mustard frowned. Maud couldn’t believe it. Annie had stood up for her—which people rarely did. She was certainly walking a dangerous line. Maud had already seen firsthand how Father and Mrs. Montgomery would take her teacher’s side, but for a new teacher, disciplining certain students could be a gamble. Annie’s father, Mr. McTaggart, was an important man in town, and it wouldn’t do for Mr. Mustard to get on the wrong side of him.
“Fine,” Mr. Mustard said, waving his arm, defeated. “Go. But don’t think we’re done here.”
As Maud scurried out, she hoped at least her performance would mean he was done with her.
CHAPTER NINE
Maud was thankful that St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church was only a few blocks away from the school—and right across the street from Eglintoune Villa—so she and Annie could quickly drop off their books at home and race over. They were still late, and as they burst into the room, Mrs. Stovel was already putting people in their positions for one of the tableaux, a drama technique where everyone stood still, as if they were standing for a photograph. Frank Robertson was in the back row with Will, who surprised Maud with a quick wink.
Pretending to ignore Will, Maud waved at two young women she knew from church, Lottie Steward, a lovely girl from Québec, and Alexena MacGregor. Maud was fond of Alexena, who had a kind smile. Both girls were already frozen in position but discreetly smiled in her direction.
“I’m so relieved you both could make it!” Mrs. Stovel said, throwing both hands up in the air. “Will mentioned you were detained, but he was able to make it on time.”
Maud and Annie exchanged a look. “Getting us in trouble already, Will?” Maud called out to him. His green eyes were mischievous, but he didn’t move…most likely because Mrs. Stovel was standing in front of him and he didn’t want to incur her wrath.
Maud and Annie allowed themselves to be guided, and Mrs. Stovel fluttered around, trying to make everything “absolutely perfect.”
When Mrs. Stovel gave them a ten-minute break, Maud went over to the stained glass window of an angel protecting Christ, where Will was standing beside his sister, Laura. She had the same wise nose and mischievous green eyes as her brother, but her face was rounder than Will’s, and she had soft brown hair worn up in a bun.
Since that first day in Prince Albert, Maud had seen Laura a few times at church and was overcome by the feeling that she was a long-lost friend, a kindred spirit. She wanted to get to know her better, but Laura lived out of town on her parents’ farm, only visiting her aunt next door occasionally—and since she went to the convent school up the hill, the only opportunity for Maud to talk with her was at church. Helping Mrs. Stovel with the Christmas concert was the perfect opportunity for Maud to become better acquainted with her—and to see Will away from Mr. Mustard’s infernal lessons.
Over the next few nights, the dramatists practiced at the McTaggarts’ and the Kennedys’ as Mrs. Montgomery “wasn’t up to rowdy guests.” Maud was grateful to have an excuse to leave the house, and her stepmother seemed open to giving her time off from her housekeeping duties. Maud supposed this was because Mrs. Stovel was her niece, but it didn’t matter why. She was just glad to have time to spend with her new friends.
Even though being in the play brought back bittersweet memories of her friends in Cavendish, it helped dull the heartache of homesickness. Laura made beautiful bunting from old dress scraps of green, red, and gold, and recruited Alexena, Lottie, and Maud to help her put it up in the church, making it look quite festive.
Once, as they practiced “Silent Night,” Maud was certain she caught Will eyeing her in a way that reminded her of Nate. She truly liked Will and didn’t want to cloud their friendship with romance, nor did she want to unwittingly encourage him. She’d had enough of that with Mr. Mustard.
Yet there was something about Will that made her forget Nate—or at least made her feel less guilty. It meant so much that he had stood up for her with Mr. Mustard; they had even started passing notes in class. It wasn’t the same as with Nate—Will certainly didn’t have Nate’s romantic notions or love of verse—but he did have the knack of making her laugh. And she so badly needed to laugh.
But Mr. Mustard was persistent, coming by the house a few times a week. And no bad behavior deterred him. Maud never said anything to her father or Mrs. Montgomery, as it was clear that, unlike Miss Robinson, Mr. Mustard was not going to tell on her. Perhaps it was pride that kept him from doing it, not wanting to show his lack of control over the classroom.
Clearly, she was going to have to try another maneuver.
Her new friendship with Will offered an opportunity. Mr. Mustard certainly disliked how much fun she and Will—and Annie, who insisted on joining in—were having, and he constantly made them stay after school to “discuss their behavior.” She didn’t want to use Will, as he was the nicest boy in school, but she had to admit that she liked how flustered Mr. Mustard got when he caught them passing notes.
Sadly, this also meant that Mr. Mustard would find any excuse to keep Maud, Annie, and Will in detention. One afternoon, a few days after the “thin mustache” incident, Mr. Mustard announced that he was keeping Maud and Annie after school for “undignified conduct and slang.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Annie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because we come up with something on the fly doesn’t mean anything.”
“That is precisely what I’m talking about,” Mr. Mustard said.