Will on the Water

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Will on the Water Page 3

by Mandy Martin


  Chapter Eight

  “How was your first day?” Mum asked as she met Willow at the school gate.

  “Fine,” Willow muttered. She could feel Mum watching her, questioning her lack of enthusiasm. Luckily Timothy came round the corner and Mum turned away to talk to him.

  “Hi, Timothy, can you show me where I need to collect Patience from, please?” Mum indicated the sprawling school grounds. “I seem to be lost.”

  “Same place you dropped her off,” Timothy said as he walked past without stopping.

  “Good afternoon to you, too,” Mum said, but too quietly for Timothy to hear.

  “What shall we do when we get home?” Mum asked Willow, as they followed Timothy.

  “I have homework. Literacy, Numeracy, and Science.”

  “Already?” Mum sounded shocked.

  “Apparently I suck at spelling and maths, and even though I live in the countryside I can’t label the parts of a leaf.” Willow hadn’t meant to sound accusing, but the words tore through the warm afternoon air.

  “Willow!” Mum turned to face her. “Are you suggesting it’s our fault that you don’t know those things?”

  “Well, you and Dad are meant to be my teachers.”

  Mum took a deep breath. “And we are,” she said with forced calm. “However, we teach at our own pace. We teach what you’re interested in, not what you need to know for some exam or tick sheet.”

  Willow hadn’t heard so much bitterness in Mum’s voice before.

  “Is that why you left teaching?” she asked. They’d never talked about it before.

  Mum nodded. “Partly. Your dad and I love to teach, but these days it’s more about filling out paperwork and meeting targets. Look, I’ll help you with the spelling and things, if you want. But I can have a chat with Miss Brice, too. She can’t expect you to suddenly know everything your friends do.”

  Willow winced at the word friends and then coughed hoping Mum wouldn’t notice. But Mum hadn’t been a teacher for nothing.

  “What is it, Willow? You did make some friends today?”

  Willow shrugged.

  “Oh, darling.” Mum gave her a hug. “It’s only the first day. It always takes time to settle in. It will get better, I promise.”

  But it didn’t get better. Willow spent ages learning the spelling words and how to add fractions, but the next day at school was just as bad. The only subject she felt at home in was Literacy. Thanks to Dad’s help, she knew all about alliteration and similes and how to write a limerick. When Miss Brice read her poem to the class, she hoped they would warm to her. But instead the whispers changed to, “Teacher’s pet,” and, “Show off.” It seemed she couldn’t win.

  She didn’t know that Miss Brice wanted silence when she clapped out a special rhythm. She didn’t know the prayers and songs in assembly. And her feet hurt. Willow missed the trees, the canal and Tinkerbell. She missed running along the sun-warmed wood in bare feet and feeling the wind on her skin. Most of all she missed feeling as if she belonged. At least on the river no one cared if she could spell scheme or poisonous or hideous.

  There was no way she was telling Mum how she felt. School was her choice and she was going to stick it out. But as far as Willow was concerned Uncle Gerald couldn’t get better soon enough.

  “Okay, Class,” Miss Brice said at home time. “There is a form in your book bags about a school trip on Friday. I need the permission slips back tomorrow please.”

  “Signed!” she added, as the class began to chatter. “You’ll need a packed lunch in a named bag, and do wear sensible shoes. That means you, too, Melissa,” she said, looking at a girl sitting beneath the window. Melissa grinned and flicked her long ponytail.

  “Does that include flip-flops, Miss? There is a lake at the park.”

  “No, Melissa, it doesn’t mean flip flops. Trainers, or wellies if it’s raining. And the water at the park is strictly out of bounds.”

  “Bet you’ll be paddling in the water,” a voice hissed. It was the boy who had accosted her in the playground. Charlie, she thought his name was..

  Willow ignored him, but he whispered again. “I heard you live on a boat. Don’t you have a house? Are your family too poor? I bet you have to use the canal as a bath. Is that why you stink?”

  On and on he taunted. Eventually Willow turned in her seat and shouted, “I never go in the canal; water is dangerous.”

  “That’s enough, Willow,” Miss Brice snapped. “Please be quiet or you will sit in the corridor.”

  Willow boiled at the injustice of the teacher’s accusation. She wanted to protest, but the teacher’s face made it clear that arguing would not be tolerated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Charlie grinning. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it up. It said, ‘Poor little Willow is scared of water’. Once he was sure she’d read it, he folded it up and slipped it to the boy next to him.

  As the class lined up to leave for the day, Willow heard the boys chanting. “Willow’s scared of water, she lives on a boat but she can’t swim, scaredy cat, scaredy cat.”

  She bit hard on the inside of her cheek and tried not to listen.

  Chapter Nine

  “Do I have to go on the school trip? Can’t I stay home with you?” Willow asked Mum, as she helped her prepare dinner.

  Mum had given up asking the children what they wanted to eat, as they always wanted different things. Now she applied the same, ‘eat it or go hungry’ rule they had on Tinkerbell. Willow suspected her cousins would be glad when Aunt Henry came home.

  Mum took the peeled potatoes and added them to the pot of bubbling water. “Why don’t you want to go? It’s only the park. It’ll be fun.”

  Willow stabbed the point of the peeler into a potato to dig out a bruise. “No it won’t,” she muttered.

  “Why not? Aren’t you enjoying school?”

  Willow shook her head, and a lump rose in her throat. Before she could stop them, hot heavy tears splashed down on the granite work top.

  “Will!” Mum gathered her up in her arms. “Whatever is the matter? You were so excited about going to school. Are your cousins giving you a hard time?”

  Will shook her head. Then she remembered Patience giggling and gossiping about her. “Not really,” she amended.

  “Then is it the work? Is it too hard?” She reached for a tissue as Willow sniffed loudly.

  “Use this, don’t sniff.”

  “The work’s fine.” Willow paused. “Most of it.”

  “Then is it the other children? Are you making friends?”

  “Oh, Mum!” Willow wailed. “They hate me. They call me names and tease me about living on a boat. It’s nothing like I thought it would be. They’re so mean.” The sobs grew louder and her shoulders shook.

  When she looked up a few moments later, Willow saw the stern look on Mum’s face and felt sick.

  “I did something wrong, didn’t I? I should have stayed with Dad. I’ll go back tomorrow.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Mum said fiercely. “You stand up to those bullies and show them you’re better than they are.”

  The expression on Mum’s face was a bit scary. Willow barely recognised her. Then she smiled and was Mum again.

  “It’ll be okay, darling. People are wary of things they don’t understand. When they get to know you, they’ll be nice, I promise.”

  Willow hoped she was right.

  “Can we join you?”

  Willow looked up in surprise. So far she’d eaten lunch on her own in the corner of the school hall.

  Chloe stood in front of her clutching her pale blue lunch box. Next to her was the girl with the black plaits that snaked across her head like a ploughed field. Will stared in envy at the unusual hairstyle and didn’t register for a moment that it that girl who had spoken. Willow knew the girl was a friend of Chloe’s and her name was Grace. She wondered whose idea it had been to come over – it probably wasn’t Chloe’s. Despite being told to look aft
er her, Chloe had pretty much ignored her all week.

  Willow smiled shyly at Grace. “If you want to,” she said, gathering her packed lunch nearer to make room.

  Grace and Chloe sat opposite her and unwrapped their sandwiches.

  “Is it true that you live on a boat?” Chloe asked around a mouthful of salad wrap.

  Willow nodded cautiously, waiting for her to ask if she washed or ever fell in the canal.

  “That’s so cool,” Grace said breathlessly, before Chloe could respond. Her dark brown eyes glowed.

  “We went on a boating holiday last summer,” Grace continued, “it was brilliant. We lay on the roof and looked at the stars. And I fed swans from my bedroom window.”

  “I do that,” Willow said.

  “Wow!” Grace stared at her with wide eyes. Even Chloe looked a bit impressed.

  Soon the three of them were chatting about their awful Numeracy homework and how annoying Charlie could be. Willow felt as if the sun had come out after a week of grey skies and rain.

  When the lunches were all eaten and they were released into the playground, Chloe and Grace invited Willow to join in their game of hopscotch.

  “I can’t wait until Friday,” Grace called as she skipped back to her pebble, her black plaits bobbing as she moved.

  “The park is fun,” Chloe agreed. “They have swings.” She twirled round, blonde plaits and skirt spinning out around her like a roundabout.

  “And don’t forget the giant climbing frame!” Grace added. “It has to be the best climbing frame ever. It goes up through the trees, with rope bridges and scramble nets. It’s awesome.”

  Willow remained silent.

  “What about you, Willow?” Grace said. “What are you looking forward to?”

  “Er, I’m not coming.”

  “What? Why not?” The girls stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head. “But it’s a day out of school,” Grace spluttered, as if that answered everything.

  How could Willow explain that she didn’t want to go because she had no friends, and because she didn’t want to go near the water, even for pond dipping?

  “Well, maybe I will come,” she said instead. “Mum says I should.”

  Grace grinned and Willow made up her mind. Now she finally had some friends she wanted to play with them on the best climbing frame ever.

  Chapter Ten

  “Willow! Where are your trainers? Did you bring them with you from the boat?”

  “Yes, Mum!” Willow called back. “They’re next to my bag.”

  “Have you put on sun cream?” Mum said, peering up the stairs. “Make sure you take a hat. And drink plenty of water!”

  “Does your mum always fuss this much?” Timothy asked as he passed Willow on the stairs.

  She shrugged. “She’s usually with me so I guess she can check all those things herself.”

  Willow realised it would be the first time she’d gone to a park without Mum. It was a weird feeling.

  Timothy seemed to guess her thoughts because he stopped and stared at her. “Your mum is always with you? That’s cool.”

  “Really?” Willow had the impression that Zander, Timothy and Patience didn’t like their parents very much. They certainly didn’t seem sad that they weren’t at home.

  “We hardly see Mum and Dad,” Timothy continued. “It might be nice to go places with them.”

  “Are you missing them?” Willow blurted out and then bit her lip.

  Timothy kicked his feet against the stairs. “It is odd without Mum. Aunt Philippa is so calm all the time. And she makes us do chores and things! Mum never does that.”

  Willow thought the two probably went hand in hand – if Aunt Henry tried to do everything for everyone, no wonder she was always in a flap.

  “What about your dad?”

  “What about him?” Timothy’s expression darkened. “He’s never here. Just off in Taiwan or Japan or Timbuctoo doing business deals.”

  He looked so forlorn Willow wanted to give him a hug. Before she could say anything, Timothy made a noise like a growl and ran off down the stairs. Willow looked after him bemused.

  “Will! Are you ready? You don’t want to be late for your trip.”

  The trip to the park! All thoughts of Timothy’s strange behaviour vanished as Willow remembered that she actually wanted to go to the park. Chloe and Grace had made all the difference. School was fun now.

  “Coming!” she yelled, and hurried down the stairs.

  “Right, Class, some rules before you disappear on your scavenger hunt.” Miss Brice stared meaningfully at the children, her gaze lingering on Charlie

  “Stay in your groups, no going in the playground until we’re done, and keep away from the water.” She pronounced the last words in the same manner she might say keep away from the erupting volcano.

  Willow nodded, glad her wariness of the water wasn’t unique.

  Unfortunately Charlie saw. “What’s wrong, new girl?” he whispered.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re scared of the water, is that it?”

  “Water is dangerous,” she agreed automatically. And then wished she hadn’t. Charlie grinned as if she’d given him the best gift ever.

  “So you are afraid of the water! Can’t swim, new girl? Is that it? I thought you lived on a boat.”

  Willow couldn’t help herself. “If you lived on a boat, you’d be wary of the water too.”

  Charlie just laughed and whispered to his friends.

  “Charlie Marshall, just what is so funny?” Miss Brice snapped.

  “Nothing, Miss,” Charlie replied, his eyes wide and innocent.

  “Hmmm.” Miss Brice didn’t sound convinced. “Okay, these are your groups.”

  As she read out the names, Willow crossed her fingers tightly. She really wanted to be with Grace and Chloe and definitely not with Charlie.

  “Finally,” Miss Brice said, “Group F is Chloe, Grace, Willow, Charlie, Jack, and Mitchell.”

  Chloe and Grace groaned and Willow’s heart flipped like a capsized scull. Maybe they weren’t friends after all.

  Her feet seemed rooted in the grass, as the rest of the group headed off. Chloe and Grace chattered away together and didn’t seem to notice that Willow wasn’t with them. Will’s fears were confirmed: they didn’t want to be friends after all.

  But suddenly Grace looked round, spotted her, and ran back towards her.

  “Come on, Willow!” she called. “You’re with us.”

  “Too bad we got Charlie,” Chloe added. “He’s bound to cause trouble.”

  Willow smiled in relief. That must have been why the girls groaned. “How much trouble can he cause in a park?” she asked.

  Grace and Chloe shared a look and Grace rolled her eyes. “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Hey, boys, watch this!”

  Charlie climbed further up the tree he was in and hooked his legs over a branch. Then he dangled upside down and waved his hands.

  Jack and Mitchell whooped and cheered. “Here, let me have a go,” Jack said, scrambling up the tree.

  “Told you,” Grace said to Willow.

  “Why don’t we just leave them to it?” Willow asked. “We can do the scavenger hunt quicker without them.”

  Chloe shook her head. “Miss Brice put us with the boys to keep them in line. She always does. We have to stay together.”

  They looked at the next thing on the list. A duck’s feather. That meant going down by the lake.

  “Come on,” Chloe yelled up to Charlie and Jack. “We need to go to the lake to find a feather.”

  Charlie flipped over and dropped from the tree. “But new girl is scared of water. Want to stay here, new girl?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Grace snapped. “Willow’s not afraid of water, are you Willow?”

  Willow shook her head, but her face was tight. Mum had warned her so often about the dangers of deep water, it was hard not to feel nervous.
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br />   Charlie sensed her hesitation and pounced. “See! Told you so. Poor ickle new girl. Lives on a boat but can’t swim.”

  Grace shoved him in the arm. “Shut up, Charlie. No one asked your opinion. Let’s go, girls.” She pushed forward and headed towards the lake.

  Willow walked beside Grace. The girl looked around to make sure the boys were far behind, then whispered, “Are you scared of water?”

  Willow shrugged. “I’ve been told that it’s dangerous since I could walk. It’s no different than you staying away from a busy road.”

  Grace nodded and fell silent. The conversation played on Willow’s mind as they walked to the lake. The beauty of the leafy shade of the trees and the call and answer of the birds faded. Was she scared? Maybe Charlie was right? But you wouldn’t choose to walk next to a motorway, and water could be just as dangerous.

  Her steps grew slower and slower and she fell behind the group. She could hear Chloe yelling at Charlie in the distance as they disappeared around a bend in the path. Willow grimaced. She’d had enough of Charlie. If she hung back, they would find the feather and move on to the next item. She’d catch up with them then.

  Suddenly there was an enormous splash followed by a scream.

  Willow heard Grace yell, “Charlie! Stop being such an idiot.” Then Jack’s voice shouted, “Oi! Charlie! Joke’s over, mate.” He sounded frightened.

  Willow started to run. She turned the corner of the path and saw Chloe, Grace, Jack, and Mitchell all staring at the lake where Charlie lay on the surface of the water, face down. A majestic willow tree stretched its branches over the water. Willow guessed Charlie had been showing off, climbing far out over the lake, and the branch had snapped.

  Without thinking, Willow dropped her rucksack and waded into the lake. It was deeper than she expected, and she had to swim almost immediately.

  She reached Charlie with a few strong strokes and flipped him over in the water. His face was as white as fungus and there was a purple bump on his head. She tugged at his body, trying to pull him back to shore, but he was tangled up with the branch he’d hit when he landed in the lake.

  Willow pushed hard against the water with her legs, until she could get both arms around Charlie. With a strong tug he came free, pushing Willow under the surface with the momentum. She came up spluttering, ignoring the pond weed over her face.

 

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