The artist placed George next to Ned then Ben in front of the teacher since Ben was the smallest. He stood Billy, a long-time resident of the workhouse, so that Mr Fleet could keep him under control with a grimy hand that gripped the boy’s shoulder a little too firmly and in a way that seemed strangely protective.
The boy’s surly expression and resigned compliance spoke of a long suppressed sense of injustice broiling within him.
Mr Cole also noticed the matching bloodied and bruised noses of the schoolmaster and the boy with the smouldering eyes, but he said nothing to draw attention to this. It gave the boy panache, he told himself, pleased with his artistic eye. It would lend a certain realistic flair to the sketching, he decided.
“Sketch them exactly as they are,” Mr Cole instructed
