Katy

by Jacqueline Wilson

  Trust Ryan not to beat about the bush.

  ‘I won’t,’ I said. ‘Still, who needs legs when you’ve got wheels?’

  It just sounded pathetic. Then thank God the door opened and a teacher walked in.

  ‘Oh, Mrs Slater!’ said Eva, rushing back to my side. ‘This is Katy. She has to use a wheelchair. Mrs Matthews says I have to show her round.’

  ‘Hello Katy,’ said Mrs Slater. Thank goodness she said it in a perfectly ordinary way, not as if I were a toddler in a buggy. She was a plain woman, thin and tall, with a long horsey face and horsey teeth too, but I liked her because she was brisk and no-nonsense. ‘Now, where shall we sit you?’

  ‘Please, Mrs Slater, she’d better come and sit with Maddie and Sarah and me so we can look after her,’ said Eva.

  ‘I don’t need looking after,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘No, you look like a girl who can look after herself,’ said Mrs Slater. ‘I think we’ll put you at the front, so you don’t have to go barging up all these narrow aisles.’

  I used to hate sitting at the front under the teacher’s nose. I was often put there as a punishment for messing about in class. But I’d much sooner be stuck under Mrs Slater’s long nose than squashed up with poisonous Eva and Maddie and Sarah. Our first lesson, maths, was right there in our classroom, because it was Mrs Slater’s subject.

  She gave me a textbook and an exercise book, and then started explaining some new kind of problems, writing stuff on the whiteboard. I stared at it, my heart thumping. I’d always been good at maths, generally second or third in the class. Swotty Simon always came effortlessly top. He’d gone to some posh private school now, so I’d secretly hoped I had a chance of coming top at Springfield. That would show them that I might have rubbish legs but I still had a brain in full working order.

  Ha! And ha again. I couldn’t understand a word of what Mrs Slater was saying. I strained my ears. I could hear her all right, I just couldn’t make sense of it. I looked at the board but all the numbers and squiggles were meaningless hieroglyphics. I peered round at the rest of the class. Perhaps they were finding it incomprehensible too. Half of them were barely paying attention. Eva and Maddie and Sarah were whispering among themselves. Ryan was yawning and cracking his knuckles. Yet when Mrs Slater wrote another sum on the board and told everyone to try and work it out, they all started scribbling busily in their exercise books. Everyone except me.

  Mrs Slater was watching me. She came forward, bending down near my ear.

  ‘Do you have problems writing, Katy?’ she whispered.

  Oh God. Perhaps she thought I was quadriplegic. It was tempting to pretend that was the case.

  ‘No, I can write OK. I just don’t know what to write. I – I don’t quite get it,’ I said, and I blushed, because I so hated to sound stupid.

  ‘Don’t worry. You’ve missed a lot of schooling. You’re bound to be a bit rusty,’ she said cheerily. ‘Here, I’ll go over it again for you.’

  She went through it all again, doing it quietly and discreetly, but of course it was obvious to everyone in the class that I needed extra help. I knew it was important to concentrate, but my mind skittered all over the place. Mrs Slater tried giving me a little refresher course, going back to stuff I’d learned in Year Six at primary school – and at last something went click in my brain. I could follow what she was saying and relaxed a little, but every time she tried to edge me forward towards learning something new I went blank again.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’ll come,’ she said. ‘You just need to get your brain in gear. I’ve seen your reports, Katy. I know you’re a bright girl.’

  I could have thrown my arms round her and kissed her.

  I didn’t feel a bright girl though, especially not in the next lesson, French. The languages classrooms were right the other end of the school and it was a long trek, following in the wake of Eva and all the others. My arms were aching horribly already and my hands felt like they were getting blisters.

  ‘Are you all right? I mean, would you like a push?’ Ryan asked, hovering.

  I would have liked a push, but I shook my head fiercely.

  ‘She’s determined to be independent, Ryan,’ said Eva, looking round. ‘I’m supposed to be pushing her, but she won’t have it.’ She walked along beside him, abandoning Maddie and Sarah. ‘So, did you go up the park on Saturday? I didn’t see you there.’

  ‘No, I had to help my dad take some stuff to the tip,’ said Ryan. ‘Sorry if you went specially.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I was there with all my mates,’ said Eva. ‘Still. I’ll come again next Saturday.’

  ‘Yeah. Well. OK,’ said Ryan.

  I felt a terrible pang. I’d been going to meet him at Baxter Park the day of the accident. And now I was the girl in the wheelchair and no one was ever going to hang out with me down the park. Ryan was looking at me anxiously and I gave him another glare, daring him to feel sorry for me. Let him trot round after pretty, poisonous Eva. See if I cared.

  I sat at the front again in the French classroom. We called the teacher Monsieur Brun, but he was no more French than I was, though he rabbited away in French all the time. I didn’t understand a word. He was quite nice though, spending time chatting to me and giving me special lists of vocabulary. I felt they’d all think I hadn’t a clue and always needed tons of support.

  He encouraged me to join in the conversation, so I mumbled, ‘Je m’appelle Katy,’ and managed to tell him my age correctly. Then he wanted to know what hobbies I had. I was a bit stuck there. In the end he helped me say that I liked to read, which sounded pretty lame.

  Then it was break time and Cecy came dashing up, as she’d promised. We went out into the playground together and sat in a corner for a bit, chatting. Some of the girls in Cecy’s class were messing around copying the dance moves from a music video. I saw Cecy’s foot tapping away and wondered if she was wishing she could be with them.

  ‘Can you do that dance?’ I asked.

  ‘Well. Sort of. It’s easy, actually.’

  ‘Not for me,’ I said.

  Cecy gave a little shudder.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘No. No, I meant I’ve always been useless at dancing. You know I have,’ I said.

  Cecy took a deep breath. ‘You can do wheelchair dancing, you know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There was this programme on telly once. It showed all these wheelchair dancers. It was beautiful. They were ever so graceful.’

  I pulled a face. ‘OK. I’ll do a wheelchair tango, shall I? I’ll stick a rose in my teeth and then I’ll whizz right across the floor and run Eva Jenkins over. Yep, that would be fun.’

  ‘Is she being hateful to you?’

  ‘No more than normal. But listen, I need you to help me find the staff toilets on the ground floor. I’ll die if I have to get Eva Snotnose Jenkins to help me. Can we go and check it out now?’ I asked.

  We went back inside the school, though Cecy was looking anxious.

  ‘We’re not really supposed to be indoors before the bell goes,’ she said.

  ‘Stick with me, babe. We’ll break all the rules,’ I said, in a silly American gangster voice.

  Halfway down the first corridor a teacher came clip-clopping along in high heels.

  ‘What are you two girls doing in school? You know you’re supposed to be in the playground,’ she called.

  ‘I’m taking my friend to the toilets. She’s got special permission,’ said Cecy.

  ‘Oh, yes, I see. Sorry, girls,’ said the teacher, and walked on.

  Cecy and I did a high five behind her back.

  She waited for me outside the staff toilets. It was harder than I’d thought to squeeze the wheelchair inside and get the door locked. I managed to sort myself out OK, which was a relief. There was a big mirror that went almost down to the floor. It was weird seeing myself properly. All the mirrors at home were too high for me now.

  I didn’t look
like myself. It wasn’t just the wheelchair. My face had changed too. I was paper-white now, though I’d always been lightly tanned, even in the autumn. I was too thin. I’d always been skinny but now my face looked peaky, my eyes much too big. I was like some terrible bug, all eyes and stick limbs. Even my hair looked wrong, scraped back in a childish ponytail. I’d hoped it made me look fun and bouncy like Mum, but I just looked sad and old-fashioned.

  What was I doing, imagining that Ryan might still like me a little bit! No wonder Eva and Sarah and Maddie had a good laugh at me.

  ‘Katy? Are you all right? You haven’t locked yourself in, have you?’ Cecy called anxiously.

  ‘No, I’m fine. Just coming,’ I said. I pulled a hideous face at myself in the mirror and then unlocked the door.

  The bell went suddenly, practically deafening us.

  ‘I wonder where I’m supposed to go now?’ I said. I looked at the timetable Mrs Slater had given me. ‘Double science. In the lab on the first floor. Upstairs. So I can’t get there.’

  Cecy looked at me. ‘So – so shall I try and pull your wheelchair up the stairs?’ she asked.

  ‘No, you daftie, you’ll pull your arms out of their sockets. They said I’ll have to study by myself. But I don’t know where.’

  ‘Oh Katy. Shall I ask someone?’ Cecy looked round worriedly.

  ‘I’ll ask. It’s OK. Go on, you don’t want to be late for your lesson. I’ll see you at lunchtime, right?’

  ‘Oh Katy,’ Cecy repeated helplessly. ‘No, I’ll stay with you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Truly. Go on, scram,’ I said.

  So Cecy trailed off reluctantly and I was left in the corridor. I wondered about holing up in the staff toilets. If I’d had an interesting book on me it might have been a good idea. I patrolled the corridors instead. There was a flurry of pupils dashing to classrooms and then sudden silence. It felt so weird wandering aimlessly, not really having a clue where I was going. The emptiness everywhere was disconcerting. I’d seen too many films where the hero walks down endless empty corridors and then suddenly some monster/serial killer/zombie leaps out at them.

  I heard scurrying footsteps behind me and I whipped my head round so quickly I nearly cricked my neck. It was Eva! She was my monster/serial killer/zombie. I burst out laughing.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Eva demanded breathlessly. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been searching all over for you! Here. Miss Dean says you’ve got to start reading some textbook in the library. She’s going to come and see you when she has a minute. Come on, you know where the library is, don’t you? I did show you.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’ve forgotten.’

  ‘It’s this way – turn left at the end of the corridor. OK? Do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘OK, suit yourself, but don’t you dare tell Mrs Matthews I haven’t been helping you. I don’t want her getting mad at me.’

  ‘Don’t worry. You can stay a little teacher’s pet, Eva Diva,’ I said, and I dodged round her in my wheelchair and bowled down the corridor.

  It wasn’t quite as simple finding the library as she’d made out, but I got there eventually. It was hard work getting the wretched door open again, but I managed it. The library was a surprise. I was expecting a cubbyhole in an ex-store cupboard like the one at my old school, but Springfield had a huge room absolutely crammed with bookshelves all round the walls, with many free-standing units too.

  ‘Wow,’ I said softly.

  ‘I love a girl who says wow at the sight of books!’ A cool, short-haired woman in a black shirt and black jeans bobbed round the shelves and stood smiling at me. ‘You’re Katy, aren’t you? Miss Dean said you were coming. I’m supposed to supervise you during your science studies. So you settle yourself at a table with this incredibly boring textbook Miss Dean has left for you – and if you study for forty minutes for the first session then I’ll let you have a good browse round the real books. Bargain?’

  ‘You bet!’ I said. ‘So are you a teacher?’

  She looked so young and super-cool I thought she might be a sixth former.

  ‘I’m Miss Lambert, the librarian. I don’t teach but I do a few reading sessions with some of the kids who need extra support. It’s my mission in life to turn everyone into bookworms. So, Katy, what’s your favourite book just now?’

  ‘I don’t know … there’s heaps. I love the three Hunger Games books.’

  ‘Good choice. Have you read The Knife of Never Letting Go? Even better. With the best dog in all literature. I think there’s a copy on the shelves. If not, I’ll reserve it for you if you like. And you can take out two more. But look, get your head stuck in Introductory Science first before you tackle dystopian science fiction. Do you know what dystopian means?’

  ‘Sort of. When people write about the future but it’s all weird and dangerous?’

  ‘Exactly. Opposite of utopian. Oh, you’re a sharp girl. I can see we’re going to get along,’ said Miss Lambert, grinning at me.

  I set to with the science book. It was deadly dull, but I made myself learn how to write up experiments. I read about magnets and iron filings and bell jars and candles and vacuums, so when Miss Dean materialized for five minutes I was able to parrot what I’d learned.

  ‘Well done, Katy. I look forward to having you upstairs in my class as soon as it’s possible,’ said Miss Dean.

  Miss Lambert gave me a thumbs-up sign. She was busy the second session supervising two boys who had problems with their reading and writing. She didn’t give them proper books or make them write out stuff. She gave them each an iPad and had them read out a passage about some violent war. There were lots of swear words but she didn’t seem to care. The boys stumbled over some of the descriptive passages but they were spot on with the cursing. Then she had them pretend to be soldiers and they had to write a dialogue together. They used a lot more swear words, but as long as they spelled them accurately she praised them.

  When Mrs Matthews herself put her head round the library door both boys had the wit to switch to reading some poem about war with no swearing at all.

  Mrs Matthews nodded approvingly. She gave me a little nod too.

  ‘How are you coping, Katy? Eva’s looking after you properly?’

  ‘Yes, though I don’t really need her to. And I saw Cecy – Caroline – at break and I’m meeting her at lunchtime too.’

  ‘Excellent. Well, I’m applying for a grant for a lift, but I can’t promise we’ll be able to install one immediately. Still, I’m doing my best.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Matthews.’ Perhaps she wasn’t such an old bat after all. And Miss Lambert was brilliant. I had a wonderful wander round the bookshelves. I was going to choose some more dystopian books, but then I came across a golden-oldies section marked My Special Favourites so I thought I’d choose a couple to show willing. I didn’t want her to think I was sucking up to her the way Eva did with all the teachers, but I liked it that she seemed happy with my choices.

  ‘The Member of the Wedding and I Capture the Castle – both great reads. If you’re inspired, do write me a review and I’ll stick it on the library noticeboard.’ She handed me my three books. I struggled to fit them all into my school bag, which was already crammed full.

  ‘Hey, I’ve got a better idea.’ She had a whole collection of canvas bags with book-related slogans on them hanging on a peg by her desk. ‘I’ll give you one of these and you can hook it over the back of your wheelchair as a book bag.’

  ‘Thanks so much, Miss Lambert.’

  ‘You’re very welcome, Katy. Come back any time, not just when you’re mugging up on science. And let me know how you get on with your books.’

  ‘Will do.’

  I loved Miss Lambert. I decided to ask Izzie for new black jeans. They would probably be a trial to wriggle into but I didn’t care. I wanted to look cool too.

  I wheeled myself out of the library, wondering how I was going to find my way to the hall. I couldn
’t remember if it was left or right from the library. But then Cecy came puffing down the corridor one way and Eva came sashaying along from the other direction, both intent on steering me towards lunch.

  ‘We don’t need you, Eva. I’m Katy’s friend and I’m taking her,’ said Cecy.

  ‘Yes, well, Mrs Matthews told me to look after Katy, and if I don’t I’m the one who’ll be in big trouble, so you push off, Cecy Hall,’ said Eva, but then she started simpering and smiling at someone behind me. Ryan.

  I rolled my eyes at Cecy, knowing I’d be forgotten now – but Ryan barely paid her any attention.

  ‘I thought I’d kind of escort you in, Katy. The other kids can be a bit rowdy. I’ll keep them out your way, OK?’ he said, blushing. ‘You can come and sit with me and the boys. We’ll look after you.’

  ‘Oh Ryan, you’re so sweet. But Katy doesn’t need you fussing round her. She’s not an invalid,’ Eva cooed. ‘And she’s going to sit with Maddie and Sarah and me.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m sitting with Cecy,’ I said. ‘Thanks though, Eva. And thanks, Ryan. You’re very kind.’

  Eva went off in a huff, but Ryan still hovered.

  ‘You come and sit with us too, Cecy. And tell you what, Katy – you say what you want to eat and I’ll go and fetch it for you. You don’t want to have to wait in a queue and it’ll be hard for you balancing a tray,’ he insisted.

  He wouldn’t take no for an answer so we sat with him and three of his mates. They’d all been at primary school with us, so it wasn’t too awkward. They were typical daft boys. Cecy seemed to think they were all a bit childish and jokey compared with her Richie, but I didn’t mind them messing about and flicking food at each other. I felt so much better sitting at the end of the table, my wheelchair scarcely visible. They laughed and messed around as if I were still the old Katy.

  Ryan did his best to bring me exactly what I wanted in the way of lunch. He hadn’t chosen a very big baked potato, it had grated cheese instead of melted, and he’d piled my plate with coleslaw and lettuce when I much preferred tomatoes and grated carrot – but it didn’t really matter.