Katy

by Jacqueline Wilson

  When I was alone I punched the air with one trembly arm, because I’d managed the bus ride and the shopping trip. Then I fell fast asleep almost immediately.

  23

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you’re ready to go to school, Katy?’ Izzie asked.

  ‘Of course I am,’ I said fiercely.

  ‘Don’t you think you’ll get desperately tired going for a full day?’ Izzie persisted.

  She didn’t need to remind me that I’d been exhausted after a couple of hours in the shopping centre. I’d still been tired all day Sunday, flopping in my chair, scarcely able to wheel myself about the house. The thought of the noise and clamour of a new school made me feel sick and trembly, but I knew I had to go through with it. If I backed out now, or just attended in the morning or afternoon, I’d be giving Mrs Matthews ammunition, and she’d persist in suggesting I go to a different school.

  So on Monday morning I set my alarm an hour early and got out of bed before anyone else was up. I felt grimly virtuous as I laboured to get washed and struggled into my school uniform. Izzie had bought it right at the beginning of the summer holidays, before my accident. It was five times harder to get into than my usual T-shirt and joggers. It was especially hard trying to get my feet into the tight new socks. I was gasping and swearing at them when Izzie put her head round the door.

  ‘My goodness, you’re an early bird. You’ve done really well, Katy. Here, let me,’ said Izzie, deftly twisting the sock and getting it easily over my heel.

  Then she bent down and helped with my shoes. It was strange seeing Izzie with her hair unbrushed and straggly and her face pale without her careful make-up. She looked much sweeter and softer.

  ‘Are any of the others awake?’ I asked.

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I’ll get them organized if you want to start breakfast,’ I offered.

  We hadn’t sorted out a stairlift yet but I could shout to the kids easily enough.

  ‘The first small Carr to reach me, properly washed and dressed, will get a whacking great present,’ I called.

  It worked a treat. Phil came running down first. He wasn’t technically fully dressed: his T-shirt was on back to front, he’d forgotten his shorts altogether, and his shoes were on the wrong feet, but he was still first.

  ‘Well done, little Philip Pirrip,’ I said, giving him a hug. ‘Here you are, here’s your reward.’

  I gave him a Milky Way I’d kept from yesterday.

  ‘Don’t eat it before breakfast though!’ I said, as he started tearing the wrapper off.

  ‘That’s not fair! Phil’s only in his pants!’ Dorry complained bitterly. ‘I should be first – I’m dressed properly. Don’t eat that Milky Way, it’s mine!’

  ‘Your shoes aren’t done up and you’ve got hedgehog hair,’ said Clover, running up, her own hair brushed and glossy, her clothes neat, her patent-leather shoes shiny. ‘I think that Milky Way belongs to me!’

  They were still arguing over its ownership at breakfast.

  ‘Now look what you’ve started, Katy!’ said Izzie, but she was smiling. ‘Come on, eat up. You’re going to need plenty of food in your tummy to get you through the day. Would you like a boiled egg?’

  I didn’t want an egg. I didn’t want cereal. I could barely chew on one quarter of a slice of buttered toast. Then breakfast was over and the others were scurrying to clean their teeth and go to the loo and wailing about lunchboxes and mislaid homework. I sat on at the table, feeling sick.

  Izzie stopped clearing dishes. She came up to me and tentatively put her arm round my shoulders. She didn’t say anything. She just stood still and held me. I let myself lean against her for a moment.

  ‘Right, Katy?’ said Dad, coming back into the room.

  He was taking me to Springfield in his car, while Izzie ferried the rest to school and nursery. Cecy came with us. She was fizzing with excitement.

  ‘This is sooooo great, Katy,’ she kept saying. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually coming to school with me. You mustn’t worry about her, Dr Carr. I promise I’ll look after her.’

  ‘I don’t need looking after, Cecy,’ I said. I couldn’t help being irritated, even though I knew she was just being sweet and protective. I remembered all our old experiences of school together, and how I’d always been the one to look after shy Cecy.

  ‘Cecy’s simply trying to reassure me, Miss Prickle,’ said Dad. ‘Thank you so much, Cecy. It’s a great comfort to me to know that you’ll be looking out for Katy.’

  ‘Look, we’re not venturing off into some weird Pilgrim’s Progress land, all Vale of Despair and Mountains of Gloom, with giants and ogres attacking us night and day. I’m simply going to school, like every other eleven-year-old,’ I said.

  But as Dad drove the car through the Springfield gates it looked like the Castle of Despond, overrun by tribes of terrifying teenagers, each and every one of them capable of towering over me now I was stuck in a wheelchair.

  ‘Look! Look!’ Cecy cried suddenly, making me jump. ‘See that boy there? The one with the floppy hair. Oh, he’s waving to me, look!’

  I looked. I saw a perfectly ordinary, gawky guy, a bit spotty. He gave one brief salute with his hand and then carried on chatting with his mates.

  ‘I take it that’s Richard?’ I said.

  ‘Richie! Yes, isn’t he fantastic?’ said Cecy ecstatically. ‘And he waved to me!’

  ‘Big deal,’ I said, and then worried I sounded too sour. I didn’t want Cecy to think I was jealous. Perhaps I was. I wanted to be back in an old life where I might have been thrilled if some random guy waved at me. Though even then I don’t think Richie would have affected my happiness quotient one way or another.

  Dad was looking amused. We shared a quick glance and he raised his eyebrows slightly.

  ‘Now, Cecy, calm down and tell me where I can park,’ he said.

  Cecy tried to direct him to the visitors’ car park but Dad actually took no notice and drove right up to the main entrance.

  ‘I don’t want you and Katy fighting your way through all that rabble,’ said Dad. ‘Now, you sit tight, Katy, while I get your chair sorted.’

  He sprang out of the car and started struggling with the chair, opening it up and putting the seat pad in place. Then he pushed it right up beside the car so I could transfer into it. I noticed Cecy looking away uncomfortably while I was panting and heaving, as if I were doing something indecent. I made a complete pig’s ear of it and had to abandon the attempt and sit gasping like a fish before I had enough breath to give it another go. Dad hovered, not sure whether to intervene or not. I tried again and almost missed the chair altogether, but I got a corner of buttock in the right place and hauled hard. I made it at last, though I was damp under my arms, my new school blouse clinging to me. I had a horror I might have started smelling sweaty. Maybe I was going to be labelled the Smelly Cripple Girl?

  ‘Now, I think I’ll come in and see Mrs Matthews, make sure she’s got everything in place for you,’ said Dad.

  ‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine, Dad,’ I said.

  I didn’t feel fine at all. I felt as lost and helpless as a little kid starting in the Infants, but I was scared of being mocked, the girl who couldn’t go to secondary school without her dad.

  ‘Don’t you worry, Dr Carr,’ said Cecy. ‘I’ll show her the way. Here, I’ll carry your school bag for you, Katy. Gosh, it’s heavy, and you haven’t even got any homework yet. Whatever’s in it?’

  ‘Oh … just stuff,’ I mumbled. ‘It’s OK. I’ll have it on my lap.’

  I had packed it with spare everything – LoFric catheters, change of pants, change of skirt, just in case I had a terrible accident – plus a pencil case full of new pens and pencils, and my phone in case something awful happened and I needed to call Izzie quickly to come and get me.

  I said a quick goodbye to Dad, willing him not to kiss me, because I’d feel an idiot if anyone was watching – though in actual fact I wanted him to give me a huge hug
. He understood and just patted me once on the shoulder. When I looked back he was staring after me, busily blowing his nose.

  There was a little ridge to get into the main door. I approached it at full speed, trying to jerk myself over, but ground to a halt. I backed up and tried again, but no luck.

  ‘Perhaps you could push me over this stupid bumpy bit, Cecy?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, sure. Sorry! OK then,’ said Cecy, flustered.

  She seized hold of the wheelchair and tipped it alarmingly.

  ‘Not quite so much!’ I gasped.

  ‘Sorry, sorry! Hang on. I’ll just …’ Cecy jerked again and the chair and I skittered forward. ‘There! Wow. I think I’m getting the knack now.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I sped down the corridor, needing to show I was still independent.

  ‘Slow down, Katy. I can hardly keep up with you,’ Cecy panted, scurrying along beside me. ‘We’ll go and report to Mrs Matthews and then I’ll take you along to our classroom. I’m going to see if Alice or Liz, the girls either side of me, will move somewhere else so we can sit together. That would be great, eh? What will you do, Katy? Stay in your special chair or sit on one of the school ones?’

  ‘Stay in my wheelchair. It’ll be easier,’ I said. I was getting a bit out of breath because I was speeding so. People kept passing us in the corridor and staring. Then we got to Mrs Matthews’ office at last. The door was shut.

  ‘Oh help. What are we meant to do – knock or what?’ Cecy whispered.

  ‘What do people usually do?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue. I’ve never been to Mrs Matthews’ office before. You only get to go if you’ve done something brilliant or something outrageously bad,’ said Cecy.

  ‘I expect I’ll be in the latter category then,’ I said, and I edged my wheelchair right up to the door and knocked smartly, pretending I wasn’t the slightest bit afraid.

  The door opened and there was Mrs Matthews, all pink and lavender drapey clothes and scarves today, with a matching set of pink and purple bangles. It’s a wonder she hadn’t given her blonde hair pastel highlights to match.

  She smiled at me.

  ‘Ah, Katy! I was expecting you. Do come in, dear. Caroline, well done for showing Katy the way.’

  She held the door open and I ushered myself into her study. Then I stopped dead, so that Cecy barged straight into my chair. Mrs Matthews wasn’t alone. Eva Jenkins was sitting demurely on a chair, giving us her butter-wouldn’t-melt smile with her perfect rosebud mouth.

  ‘I believe you and Eva are old friends, Katy,’ said Mrs Matthews.

  ‘Well,’ I said, not trusting myself to say anything further.

  ‘I know you were in the same class at primary school so I thought it would be nice if Eva looked after you for the first week or so, took you around and showed you where to go,’ said Mrs Matthews.

  ‘But that’s what I’m going to do, Mrs Matthews!’ said Cecy, dodging round in front of me, so indignant she forgot to be frightened.

  ‘It’s very kind of you to offer too, Caroline, but that wouldn’t really be practical, as you and Katy are going to be in different classes,’ said Mrs Matthews.

  My head was spinning. It was all going horribly wrong.

  ‘But Mrs Matthews – I so hoped I was going to be in Cecy’s – Caroline’s – class. We’re best friends and neighbours,’ I gabbled.

  ‘Well, that’s lovely, dear, but I’m afraid it’s not possible for you to be in 7T. We’ve taken on two more pupils and that class is full to bursting, whereas 7A has a convenient space as someone dropped out. Don’t look so downhearted. You’ll still be able to see Caroline at break and lunchtime – and meanwhile Eva will befriend you, as I said.’

  I burned at the word befriend. I especially didn’t want Eva to do it. She wasn’t my friend. She’d always been my worst enemy. Although she was simpering away at me, batting her little-doll eyelashes, I knew she was still my enemy now. But what could I do? I’d been a fool not to let Dad come into school with me as he’d suggested. He might just have been able to make Mrs Matthews change her mind.

  ‘The bell’s due to go any minute,’ said Mrs Matthews. ‘So run along, girls.’

  I caught her eye. I didn’t say a word but I knew my face was saying run? She went a little pink to match her floaty scarf and I felt a tiny triumph.

  Outside her door Cecy and I looked at each other.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Cecy said desperately.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Cecy,’ I said, because of course it wasn’t.

  ‘Don’t worry about Katy. I’ll look after her,’ said Eva. ‘Shall I push your wheelchair?’

  ‘No! I can do it,’ I said gruffly.

  Eva shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’

  She marched ahead and I had to follow her. Cecy and I pulled agonized faces at each other.

  ‘I’ll be waiting outside your classroom at break, promise,’ said Cecy, and then she scuttled off in the opposite direction.

  I had to follow Eva down a maze of corridors. I tried hard to memorize where we were going, so I would stop being dependent on her, but after chanting left, left, right inside my head I got muddled, especially as Eva kept turning round and saying, ‘That’s the library,’ and ‘We go in the hall for lunch,’ and ‘We go through that door to get to the playground,’ and ‘There are the girls’ toilets.’

  ‘Where are the staff toilets?’ I asked.

  ‘What? Haven’t a clue,’ said Eva.

  ‘Well, I’ll need to find out, because I’m going to use them,’ I said.

  Eva paused, looking curious. ‘So can you still go to the toilet then? I mean properly?’

  ‘Mind your own business,’ I said curtly. I certainly wasn’t going to discuss my toileting with Eva Jenkins.

  ‘And your legs – you can’t even walk a little bit?’ she went on.

  ‘Oh, actually I can run around and dance and do all sorts. I’ve just got this weird compulsion to sit in a wheelchair,’ I said.

  ‘What? Oh, joke. Ha ha,’ said Eva. ‘What’s it like then, Katy? Being … you know?’

  ‘What do you think it’s like?’ I said fiercely.

  ‘No need to be so grumpy. We were all soooo sorry for you when we heard,’ said Eva.

  ‘Yes, well, I don’t need your pity, thanks,’ I said.

  ‘OK. Be like that,’ said Eva.

  ‘So where is this poxy classroom then? I thought you were meant to be showing me.’

  ‘It’s here,’ said Eva, and she dodged inside the next door.

  It slammed right in my face.

  ‘You …’ I muttered a very rude word. It was partly to stop myself bursting into tears. If only Cecy could have stayed with me. Oh, how I wished Dad had stayed. Or Izzie. No, it wasn’t really them I was wanting. It was a fiercer, more desperate need. I wanted my mum. I wanted her so badly.

  I couldn’t often summon her up now. It was as if the accident had chopped through my imagination as well as all the nerve endings in my spine. I couldn’t make her up. Whenever I tried I just saw shadowy images like old photos. I couldn’t make Mum real any more.

  I thought back to my very first memory, sitting in the red toy car, with Mum running along beside me, her ponytail swinging.

  ‘I’m Katy Carr!’ I said inside my head.

  I was still Katy Carr, even if I couldn’t walk any more. Katy Carr wasn’t a little wimp who kept dissolving into easy tears. Katy Carr was tough. And bold. And fierce. And she’d never ever let a girl like Eva Jenkins get the better of her.

  I strained forward and struggled with the door handle. It was slippery with use and it was hard to get a proper grip on it because I was at an awkward angle. Then I had to back up because the wretched door opened towards me, so it was all a tremendous effort, but I did it, I got it open, and I wheeled myself in.

  There was a classroom of mostly strange kids, all of them staring at me. And there was Eva Jenkins with her two cronies, Maddie and Sarah, all three huddled together, eyes
bright, all of them pink in the face.

  ‘Oh, here, Katy. Let me help you! Hey, I’m so sorry – I didn’t realize the door would be such a struggle for you,’ Eva lied, rushing to me.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Don’t fuss.’

  They were all staring, staring, staring. I wanted to go to my desk and hide myself away, but I didn’t know which wretched desk was mine. I forced myself to stare back. Oh God, there was Ryan, looking at me with such shock and horror on his face. I couldn’t bear it. I gave him a ferocious glare that made him turn crimson – but he came up to me all the same.

  ‘Katy?’ he said, as if he barely recognized me.

  ‘What?’ I said rudely.

  ‘Katy, what happened to you? I mean, the wheelchair.’

  I stared at him.

  ‘You really don’t know?’ I said, thinking he might be winding me up.

  ‘Well, Mrs Slater said there was a girl called Katy in a wheelchair joining our class – but I didn’t realize it was going to be you. Did you – did you break your leg?’

  ‘I wish. I broke my back, Ryan.’

  ‘How did you do it?’

  ‘You’re not meant to ask about it, Ryan. Mrs Matthews says it’s not polite,’ said Eva. ‘I’m in charge of Katy.’

  ‘No, you’re not. I’m in charge of me. So shove off, Eva Jenkins,’ I said.

  ‘Well, there’s gratitude,’ said Eva. She raised her little arched eyebrows at Ryan and shook her head in a pitying gesture at me. I would have died if Ryan had raised his eyebrows back. But he didn’t. He was barely listening to her.

  ‘I kept on wondering why you never came to Baxter Park during the holidays. I thought about getting in touch, but then I worried you might be avoiding me. Then when I started at Springfield someone said you’d gone to some other school. Nobody said anything about an accident. Did you get run over?’

  ‘Nope. I fell from a tree. I made myself this rope swing but I suppose I didn’t tie it properly and I suddenly went flying. The doctor in hospital said I was very unlucky.’ My voice went a bit wobbly. I still hated talking about it.

  ‘So how long will it be till you can walk again?’ Ryan asked.