by Ann Bryant
I suddenly realized that Papà wasn’t with us and was about to ask where he was, but Mamma must have seen my eyes flicking around.
“Papà is…on the phone. He will only be—” She broke into a smile. “Oh, he’s here!”
I looked over to see Papà striding across the ward and noticed his face light up when he saw I was awake. But there was something a bit impatient in his eyes too and I wondered whether he was worrying about his work back home in Italy. I changed my mind about that a few minutes later, though, because he sat down in a chair and started talking to me with smiling eyes. “The operation was a great success, Toni. Your leg has been X-rayed and the bone looks perfectly aligned. Once the plaster is off, you’ll be good as new!”
I think he was trying to cheer me up by talking about when I’d be all better. He probably thought I was dreading the thought of spending ages not being able to walk without the help of crutches, but I didn’t actually mind. All I wanted was to get back to school.
Only then something struck me. “How long does my leg have to stay in plaster?” I asked the nurse, who had just arrived to ask me if I wanted to go to the loo and have a wash.
“Six weeks,” she answered.
I did a quick calculation. Six weeks would take us up to the last week of the Easter holidays. So I’d be in Italy. “Oh, so will I need to finish my holiday early and come back here to have it taken off?” I asked Papà. “Or can we go to a hospital in Italy?”
“Er…” He and Mamma exchanged a look and Papà quickly explained to Mamma what the nurse had said.
“Don’t worry,” said the nurse, “you can have the cast taken off anywhere. We wouldn’t expect you to come back here specially if you’re abroad. You just go to your doctor and he will refer you to the orthopaedic clinic. But before that you’ll need your plaster checking for fit in a week or two.” She smiled at me. “Sometimes when the swelling goes down the plaster feels a bit loose.”
I saw Mamma and Papà exchange another look as Papà translated what the nurse had said.
Then Papà went off for a little walk while Mamma helped me get washed and dressed, which made me feel so much better.
It surprised me when the nurse asked if I wanted some lunch, because it felt as though I’d only just had the operation and it was still early in the morning, but of course quite a few hours had gone by and I’d had a big sleep since then. I said I thought I could manage a little bit, but as soon as I started eating I felt sick and Papà had to rush and get the nurse to bring me a bowl.
“Have a little rest,” said the nurse. Then she turned to Papà and I heard her say something about how patients are sometimes affected by the general anaesthetic in this way and that it would probably be best to keep me in for the night so they could check up on me.
But I was impatient to get back to my friends. “I’m feeling much better now I’ve been sick,” I quickly told Papà. “Honestly.”
Papà nodded and patted my hand, but he didn’t look convinced. Then Mamma put the TV on, only I must have drifted off to sleep straight away because I’ve no memory of whatever we watched.
It was much later when I woke up, and at first I couldn’t remember where I was. Then I saw Mamma and Papà by my bed and it all came flooding back to me.
“Feeling better, Toni?” Papà asked me straight away.
I nodded and sat up. Yes, I really was feeling better. In fact, my mind went straight to Silver Spires and whether I would be able to get back to my friends.
“Maybe you would like a walk around?” said Mamma. “Papà can ask the nurse if there is a wheelchair. Look, here she comes now…”
My thoughts rushed ahead. I knew I’d have to get used to walking around on crutches, so why not straight away? “Er…could I try walking with crutches?” I asked the nurse.
“Well, the physio will be giving you a session on the crutches some time before you go, but it’s early days at the moment. Let’s give it a bit more time, shall we?”
A wave of disappointment hit me. Time was running away and soon this day would have disappeared completely. But the nurse was getting me a wheelchair, so there was nothing I could do. Or perhaps there was. Yes, I would show her just how much better I felt by leaping out of bed quickly and hopping to the wheelchair. That would surely convince her.
So that’s what I did. But I didn’t get very far. No sooner had I swung my legs out of bed than I felt dizzy and had to look down, clutching my head in my hands.
“Oh my goodness!” said Mamma. “You’re so pale, cara!”
There was a sharp edge to Papà’s voice. “You need to take things gently, Toni. It takes time to get your strength back after an operation.”
The nurse crouched down and looked up at me as I sat shakily on the side of my bed. “Are you feeling a bit queasy, Antonia?”
I’d never heard the word “queasy” before but I could guess what it meant.
“A bit.”
“Your body is still recovering from the anaesthetic. Look, the doctor’s coming round now. Let’s see what he thinks, shall we?” She scribbled something on the notes at the end of my bed, then hurried away, but she was back by the time the doctor got to my bed.
“So how’s the leg, Antonia? No pain now?” he asked me.
I hesitated. There was a bit of pain, but it was nothing compared to how it had been before. “It’s fine, thank you.”
He smiled and gave me the same careful look that the nurse had given me. “But you’ve had some sickness and dizziness?”
“Yes, just…a bit.”
He turned to the nurse. “I think she should stay at least another night to be on the safe side.”
At least another night? This was getting worse with each passing minute. I’d been so looking forward to going back to Silver Spires today, but now it looked as though even tomorrow was doubtful. The doctor was heading off to the next bed, so I knew I had to be quick if I was to manage to get him to change his mind. “If I’m fine tomorrow morning, will I be able to go home?” I asked him in a gabble.
“Well that depends on the circumstances at home,” he said, turning round and giving me what I would call a searching look. “You’ll need someone looking after you all the time for a few days at least. It’s tougher than you think managing with one leg out of action. Have you got lots of stairs, for example?”
I thought about Forest Ash and my heart started to sink. “Well—”
“There are lots of stairs, doctor,” Papà interrupted in a calm voice. “It’s a boarding school.” Then he turned to me. “Antonia, it’s much more sensible to stay overnight as you’ve not been feeling well, and then we’ll see about tomorrow.”
The doctor smiled at my father and nodded. “That’s right, Antonia. Let’s get you in the right state before we throw you out, eh?” He gave a little chuckle and, with another smile at my parents, turned to the patient in the next bed.
The nurse helped me back into bed and I flopped back against the pillows, feeling abbatutta. I don’t know how to say this word in English, but it’s like being tired and depressed.
Later, though, after Mamma and Papà had gone and I was on my own, I tried swinging my legs out of bed again, and this time I didn’t have any dizziness. Maybe Papà had been right about it taking time to get my strength back. I was definitely getting better now and I felt sure I would be ready to go back to my friends tomorrow.
Thinking about Nicole and the others reminded me that I hadn’t looked at my mobile all day. It was such a good surprise when I found loads of texts. All my friends and Miss Stevenson and Mrs. Pridham and Matron had wished me luck with the operation and then there was a later text from Nicole saying she guessed I’d be all plastered up and ready to go back to school by now and she couldn’t wait to see me.
I quickly replied to tell Nicole the bad news, but I promised her I’d definitely be back the next day. Then I flopped back on my pillow again, determined to save every drop of strength so that nothing would stop me leavin
g hospital at the earliest possible opportunity.
“Right, take your time now, Antonia.” The physio was supporting me as I got the crutches in place under my arms. “Now, try a few steps along the corridor.”
It was ten o’clock in the morning, the day after my operation, and I felt a lot better. The nurses couldn’t believe the improvement I’d made, so they’d happily agreed to letting me try out the crutches.
“Excellent!” said the physio, because I found it easy and had gone halfway down the corridor and back. “Now for the stairs. They’re a bit trickier.”
And they were, especially as I had to be careful to hold the right-hand crutch in a particular way, so it didn’t hurt my hand. But still I managed, and afterwards, when we went back to the ward and met up with my parents, the physio told Mamma and Papà that I was a “natural”.
“So why don’t we go and have a drink at the café,” said Mamma, “to celebrate?”
But I was desperate to get ready to go back to school. All we were waiting for was to see the doctor one final time, and the nurse had told us she was certain he’d let me go when he saw how much better I was.
“I’m not really hungry or thirsty, Mamma. Shall I pack my things together?”
Mamma turned anxious eyes to Papà and I felt confused for a moment. What was there to be anxious about now I was better? Or was she worried about how I’d manage on crutches at school?
“When I get home to Silver Spires, I’ll have loads of people to help me carry things, won’t I?” I said in my brightest voice to try and reassure Mamma. Then I couldn’t help a giggle spluttering out. “Isn’t it funny the way I keep saying ‘home’? I suppose it’s because school is my home in term time. And of course there’s always someone on duty, like Matron or Mrs. Pridham. They can help with—”
“Antonia, we need to talk.”
I got a shock at those words of Papà’s, because they’d come out so strongly and seriously, and he hadn’t called me Toni. There was something in his tone that reminded me of the time last spring in Italy when he’d first mentioned Silver Spires. And why was Mamma looking down? What did we need to talk about? Whatever was the matter? Mamma sat on the edge of my bed and Papà sat in the chair next to it.
“So perhaps we should go to the café?” he said more calmly.
I shook my head and he sighed.
“Antonia, your mother and I have made a decision.”
My mouth felt suddenly dry and I sipped at the water on my trolley as my father kept talking.
“We didn’t want to say anything until you felt well again, but this whole experience has made one thing quite clear to us. It was such a shock when we heard the news that you’d had a bad accident on your bike. We felt so worried and so powerless and helpless with the enormous distance between your school and our home. And I can’t tell you how difficult and complicated it was to make this journey to England at such short notice to be with our precious daughter, which was all we wanted to do…”
He paused and my heart pounded and pounded with fear and yet I didn’t know what there was to fear.
“…So we are taking you back home with us to Italy.”
I swallowed. His voice and his face were too grave for the words that had just come out of his mouth. I wasn’t sure what he meant. Or was it that I was sure but I couldn’t face it? My voice shook as I asked the question that had found its way from my racing mind to my mouth. And my insides trembled with dread at what his answer would be.
“Do you mean you’re taking me home early for the holidays or…” It was no good I couldn’t say the rest of the sentence.
“No, we’re taking you out of Silver Spires altogether. It’s for the best.”
My heart stopped pounding and squeezed with misery.
Chapter Five
For the first time in my life I was about to cross a line with my father. I was going to question his decision, because it was stupid and just…wrong.
I raised my voice. “You can’t do this to me!”
Mamma quickly pulled the curtains round the bed and told me to be calm.
“How can I be calm? You’re making me cross. It was you two who wanted me to come to Silver Spires in the first place. You said I had to improve my English…”
“Yes, you’re right,” said Papà. “And that job is now done. You speak English wonderfully well. Better than we had hoped for.”
I wished I hadn’t said anything about English now.
“But it’s more than just the language. It’s the whole…culture. That’s what you said. I remember.” I felt close to tears, because I didn’t have enough arguments. Not ones that Papà would listen to anyway. This had to be a terrible dream that I was about to wake up from.
He was nodding. “Yes, I agree that culture takes a while to absorb, but you have had a good taste of it.” Then he sighed. “Look, Toni, we know how much you love your school, and if it were in Italy then everything would be fine. But it is simply too far away. Your mother and I had no idea what it would be like if you had an accident or an illness. That was short-sighted of us. But now with all this…” He held up his hands and cast his eyes around the ward. “…It’s frightened us. It’s changed our view. We can’t take the risk of something like this happening again. You need to be with us in Italy to recuperate.”
I tried not to shout. “But I can recuperate at Silver Spires! Or even if I recuperate in Italy, why can’t I come back to Silver Spires next term?” I knew I was sounding desperate, but that was because I was desperate. “I mean, think about it, what if you two were both away on business and I was at a school in Italy and I had a terrible accident? You’d still have a great long journey to make.”
“We have all the family in Italy, Toni. Nonno and Nonna, your uncles and aunties. There will always be someone to look after you. We are a close-knit family. We look after each other. That’s what families are about.”
I didn’t know what to say to that so I just stared at him, and the look I got back said, I’m not changing my mind. But surely he didn’t understand how important Silver Spires was to me.
“My school is like my home, Papà!” I said, raising my voice again.
“Yes, it is a very caring community, I agree,” he said calmly.
“And what about my friends? What about Nicole, my best friend? I can’t leave Nicole.”
“Nicole and your other friends can come to visit us in Italy, cara,” said Mamma in her gentle voice.
“It’s not the same. The friendship won’t be the same if I only see them once a year or something. I don’t want to lose Nicole.” I could feel myself getting close to tears.
“You won’t lose Nicole, but you will gain other friends,” said Mamma.
“We’ll find you another perfect school in Italy,” said Papà.
I felt myself kind of shutting down. I wanted to block my ears like I did when I was a child and an older boy in the playground used to tease me with talk of slimy frogs and toads because he knew it made me feel ill. I hung my head.
I didn’t care about any stupid Italian schools. All I cared about was Silver Spires.
“We know it’s hard to make changes,” said Mamma, “especially big ones like switching schools. But once you’ve got used to the idea you’ll be fine, because although you can’t see it now, it’s all for the best.”
“Best for you. Not for me,” I said flatly.
“No, we’re thinking about all of us, but especially you.” Mamma reached for my hand. “You were happy to have us here with you yesterday when it was your operation, weren’t you?”
I nodded forlornly, because that much was true. I had been pleased to see them. Obviously. They’re my parents.
Papà suddenly stood up and spoke briskly. “We have an appointment to see Ms. Carmichael and Mrs. Pridham now, Toni. We’ve already explained our feelings briefly to Ms. Carmichael, but there are things to finalize.”
“You have to give a term’s notice anyway, so you can’t just take m
e straight away!” I said in a bit of a screechy panic.
“We’re going to pay for the term,” said Papà firmly, “but you won’t be staying to complete it. I’m sorry, Toni, the decision is made, and one day you’ll realize it is for the best, even though, as Mamma says, you can’t see it now.”
He paused and gave me a kind look, but I couldn’t take a kind look from such an unkind person so I looked away and listened to his horrible words going on and on.
“By the time we’re back, hopefully the doctor will have seen you and we’ll collect you and take you back to the hotel. You’re not allowed to fly for at least two weeks, so we’ve booked the train for Thursday. That will give us time to get all your things from school packed and you’ll able to say goodbye to your friends…”
My eyes filled with tears and Mamma gave me a tight hug, then stood up. “We won’t be long, cara,” she said in a shaky voice, as Papà beckoned the nurse over and had a quick word with her, which I couldn’t hear. “I’m sure you’ll feel pleased when you’re used to the idea.”
My father bent to give me a kiss but I didn’t move at all. I just stared straight ahead.
Then they were gone. I pulled the top pillow from behind me and flopped back on the bed, the pillow over my face to stifle my sobs.
From somewhere outside my horrible tear-soaked world I heard the soft voice of one of the nurses.
“Antonia? Phone, dear. Are you awake?”
My eyes were open in a flash.
“It’s your friend, Nicole.” She was handing me a hospital phone. At the sound of Nicole’s name I felt like crying all over again. How ever was I going to tell her the terrible news?
“Hi.”
The nurse smiled and walked quickly away with silent footsteps.
“Hi, Antonia! I got the ward phone number from Mrs. Pridham, because you didn’t answer your mobile.”
“Oh sorry…I didn’t…hear it ring.”
“Have you got your crutches?” she went on, excitedly. “When will you be back?”