Redheads at the Chalet School

The lean, dark man and the solemn-faced schoolgirl had sat side by side in silence for some time. Suddenly he spoke softly without turning his head—almost without moving his lips. “Copper! No; don’t move. Keep on looking out of the window. Now listen! You understand that you must use your proper name. I know you’ve always been called Flavia Letton, but from now on you are Flavia Ansell. Got that?”“Yes, Dad.” Copper was staring out of the carriage window, her back turned squarely to the man, her long red pigtails dangling over her shoulders. Her words were almost as inaudible as his, but he caught them. “That’s how you’ve been entered at this school and all your things are marked ‘Ansell’. I gave the order when I bought them. So no more ‘Letton’, remember.