by Susan Lewis
‘Well, there’s only Laura really,’ she says. ‘She’s in the bed next to me and we sit together in class. The others are all stinky and horrible, so that’s why I don’t want to stay any longer.’ She glances up at me. ‘I won’t need any pocket money if you let me come home, or the parcel, but we’d better take it with us, so it doesn’t go to waste.’
‘Mm,’ I say, hoping she doesn’t read the wrong thing into it.
She does. ‘I’ve already folded everything up ready to put in my suitcase,’ she tells me eagerly. ‘I asked Cluttie for it last night, but she wouldn’t let me have it. She is so horrible, Dad. Everyone is. If you knew what it was like, you wouldn’t make me stay. Honestly, you wouldn’t. You want me to come home, Gary, don’t you?’
He gives an energetic nod. ‘Definitely,’ he says.
‘So you see, Dad, it’s for the best if I come back with you today. I promise I’ll be really good. I’ll do all the washing up, and I’ll make the beds, and I’ll work really hard at school. I don’t mind which one I go to, but I think The Grange would be best, because that’s where most of my friends have gone, and I expect they’re really missing me.’
She looks and sounds so earnest, so rational, that it’s the hardest thing in the world to say, ‘I expect they are, my love, but you go to this school now, and it’s not …’
‘Only because you say so. If you tell Miss Dakin that you want me to come home she’ll have to let me. Please tell her you want me to, please Dad.’
Her eyes are filling up again, and I’ve rarely felt so wretched. ‘You’ll be home next Sunday,’ I remind her. ‘It’s an exeat, so we’ll pick you …’
‘It’s not the same!’ she shouts. ‘I want to be with you and Gary all the time, like I used to. Everyone’s mean to me here. They take the mickey out of the way I speak, and they say I’m ugly.’
‘You are,’ Gary joyfully interjects.
‘You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,’ I tell her.
‘Don’t say that,’ she cries savagely. ‘It’s not true.’
‘Well I think it is.’
‘You would, because you’re my dad, but that doesn’t make it true. And if you really loved me you’d let me come home. Wouldn’t he?’ she says to Gary.
‘Yes, Dad, you would,’ young Solomon informs me.
I’m starting to wish I’d left him on the bus with his trumpet. ‘Now, you know it’s silly talking like that,’ I tell them both. ‘Of course I love you, Susan. That’s why you’re here, because you’re so important to me that I want the very best for you, and you’re a very clever girl to have passed the exam.’
‘No! I was stupid to pass that exam. I wish I’d messed it up now, and I would have if I’d known I was going to be locked away with a load of nasty, stuck-up pigs who make me do things I don’t want to do and spit orange pips in my face.’
‘Who did that?’ I ask, alarmed, but half suspecting she might be exaggerating.
She’s about to answer, but seems to think better of it. I realise someone’s walking close behind, so probably she doesn’t want to be overheard telling tales. I let it drop for now, curious to see if she brings it up again later.
By the time we start walking up the drive to the school I can sense her becoming more and more agitated. She can be a devil when she doesn’t get her own way, but I keep reminding myself that she’s barely eleven, so it’s natural for her to be homesick, and besides, she’s only been here a week. Of course this is hard for her, but it’ll get easier once she’s more used to it. I wouldn’t dream of telling her I’d give all the tea in China to be able to take her home with me, because that wouldn’t help one bit.
‘What’s that over there?’ I ask, pointing to a high stone wall with an arched gate in it.
‘It’s the walled garden,’ she says sulkily.
‘Oh, that sounds interesting, shall we go and have a look?’ This is as much to get her away from the other girls and their parents as to try and distract her, because if she does end up losing her temper with me we won’t want witnesses.
‘Is this like the book, The Secret Garden?’ Gary asks, going to press his face to the gate.
Mindful of the time he got his head stuck in the bars of the bear pit at the zoo, I hike him back to safety and ask Susan to tell us what happens in the garden.
She tilts her face up to look at me and her chin’s wobbling so fast she can hardly speak. ‘Please, Dad,’ she begs. ‘I hate it here and I don’t like being on my own without you.’
Wrapping her up in my arms I say, ‘I know it’s hard, my darling, but I want you to do your best to get on here. It’s …’
‘Can I be a day girl then?’ she asks. ‘I’d be able to come home every night and …’
‘I want her to come home,’ Gary says, starting to cry too.
I gather him into the embrace, and putting my face between both of theirs I blow a raspberry on their cheeks. This usually makes them laugh, but today it only works on Gary.
‘Dad, you’re not listening to me,’ Susan cries. ‘It’s really mean making me stay here. No one else has to go to this vile school, so why should I?’
Vile. Never heard her use that word before. ‘Because you’re clever and this is …’
‘I am not clever. I’m dumb and I hate it here, and I hate you for sending me.’
‘Now, now, you know what Jesus says, you must honour your mother and father, and look at our Gary. He’s all upset seeing you like this, and it’s making me unhappy too.’
‘Why can’t I be a day girl?’ she rages.
‘Because I want you to be a boarder where you’ll be properly taken care of and grow up to be a lady.’
‘Ugh! I don’t want to be a lady.’
I catch her hands as she tries to punch me. ‘This isn’t the way to behave,’ I tell her, trying to sound cross. ‘You’re a big girl now, and I want you to stop being rude and defiant.’
‘Is that a football pitch?’ Gary suddenly cries, wide-eyed with glee.
Susan looks round. ‘No, it’s for hockey, stupid,’ she retorts. She turns back to me.
‘Come on, my love,’ I say, giving her a smile. ‘It’ll be all right, I promise. You’ll be home next Sunday …’
‘Yes, but only for the day.’
‘I know, but we’ll have a nice time, all of us. You’ll be able to see your friends, and I expect Auntie Nance will make us some dinner.’ I cup her face in my hands. ‘Be a good girl for me,’ I say softly. ‘I want you to be a boarder because I know you’ll make a very good one once you’ve settled in.’
She drops her head and pushes it against me, so I stroke her hair and only allow myself to think of how lovely and rich it is. Just like her mother’s, only longer.
‘What’s that noise?’ Gary asks, looking towards the school.
Susan’s face is very pale now. ‘It’s the bell for lunch,’ she answers, her voice sounding as broken as her little heart. ‘You won’t forget to come next week, will you?’ she says, her eyes once again awash with tears as she looks up at me.
‘Of course not,’ I assure her. The worst part of this now is the suddenness with which she’s accepting I’m going to leave her. Does it mean she’s lost what little faith she has left in me? Why shouldn’t she when she’s right, I am going to leave her here? Am I getting everything wrong? Eddress, what shall I do?
‘And you’ll write to me?’ she says. ‘I’ve got loads of letters to send to everyone, so don’t forget the stamps.’
‘I won’t. Do you have a letter for me?’
She shakes her head. ‘I did,’ she says, ‘but I’ve seen you now, so it doesn’t count any more.’
‘You’ll write me another?’
She shrugs. ‘I suppose so.’ Then clasping her arms around me, she starts to sob. ‘Please Dad, take me home.’
‘Oh Susan, Susan, Susan,’ I say, ‘what am I going to do with you? Come on now, give Gary a kiss.’
‘I don’t want a kiss from her,’
he protests, backing away.
She gives a bubble of laughter and pretends to go after him.
‘Ugh, Dad, save me,’ he cries.
Turning back to me, she takes hold of my hand to make sure I walk over to the school with her.
I wonder if Eddress is watching us, and what she might be making of it all. I know she’d be much stricter than I am, but she had her soft side too, and I know it would upset her a lot to see our Susan like this.
We have to give it time, Eddie, I can hear her saying, it’s only been a week, and I know she’s right.
Susan
It’s Sunday afternoon now and we’re lying on our beds having quiet time. This means we’re not allowed to talk even though it’s the middle of the day, and no one’s tired, so no one wants to go to sleep. We just read, or lie there trying not to be bored, when really it’s more boring than anything I’ve ever done in my whole life. Dad put a copy of Black Beauty in the parcel from Auntie Nance, which is one of my favourite books, but I’m too angry with him for leaving me here to read it. Serve him right!
We’ve changed out of our Sunday uniforms now, and are wearing our pyjamas, in the middle of the day! Really stupid, especially when we have to get dressed again to go down for tea.
I can hear Glenys crying in the next bed. She’s missing her mum and dad. I wonder if she asked them to take her home and they said no too. When I was little I used to dream about living on an island where there were no parents at all, only children – I think I might start dreaming about that again now. There won’t be any boarding schools or foul girls like Nina Lowe, there will just be nice people and lots of freedom to do as we want.
I wonder if Mummy will be able to see the island. Maybe she’s on an island somewhere now.
Actually, I’m feeling a bit nervous at the moment, because after lunch today Laura decided I should get struck on Nina Lowe.
‘That way she won’t be horrible to you any more,’ Laura said.
Even though I’d rather have Dracula coming to tuck me up at night I’ve agreed to let Laura ask her, because I wouldn’t mind it if the nasty old cow stopped being so horrid to me. We can’t do it now, while we’re being nuns – all silent and godly – so Laura’s going to wait until the bell rings to signal the end of quiet time, before going to talk to Nina. I wonder if I’ll be able to tell Nina I’m homesick when she comes to say goodnight to me. She’ll probably think I’m a great big baby and tell me to grow up. I’ll want to smash her face in if she does, but she might smash me back and she’s bigger than me.
Really, I want to get struck on Sadie who’s about five beds along from me. She let me join in the dancing to her record yesterday afternoon, and she even said that I was quite good. She also said I can sit next to her for Top of the Pops next Thursday, if I want to, which is a great big honour, because first formers don’t usually get invited to sit with second-formers.
I wonder if Dad and Gary are home yet. Every time I think of them I feel all choked up again, and really guilty for upsetting them while they were here. I didn’t mean to, I just couldn’t help it. Daddy doesn’t understand what it’s like being locked away, because it’s never happened to him. If it had, I know he wouldn’t make me stay here, but I know he’s still unhappy about Mum not being with us any more, so I mustn’t make him feel bad about me as well.
I think I’ll write him a letter.
Dear Dad, It’s Sunday afternoon now and I’m lying on my bed having quiet time. As God says obey your parents I’m trying to obey you and be happy. I’m getting on quite well with it I think, (I’m not, but it might make him feel better if I say I am), but it’s hard. Please don’t be unhappy, and on Sundays when I see you I’m going to try and be good. I still want to be a day girl, but if it is your wish I should be a boarder I’m going to try and be happy as a boarder. I’m looking forward to half-term when I can come home for a week.
I feel terrible when I go to bed at night and get up in the morning. But now you’ve told me not to be unhappy I won’t be.
Well, I must close now, so cheerio.
All my love, Susan
PS: Please don’t forget the stamps.
PPS: Please make sure Gary goes on taking care of Sixpence.
Time to read my book now. I wish I was a horse.
There is no religion without love, people may talk all they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to other animals as well as humans, it is all a sham.
I’m just thinking that I might give this book to Nina Lowe as a present, when the bell blasts through the dormitory, putting a very noisy end to quiet time.
‘I’ll go and ask her now, shall I?’ Laura whispers.
Feeling a bit sick, I look over to where Nina is going into her cubicle and pulling the curtain. I’m really not at all sure about this. I hate her and she hates me, and I definitely don’t want her moustache coming anywhere near me. ‘Give her a chance to get dressed,’ I say.
Laura and I go into our cubicles to change into our uniforms. My laundry bag is full, so I’ll have to go to the house maids later to do some washing. I think I’ve got some Omo left. I’ve got some pictures of Davy Jones next to my mirror that I cut out of one of Laura’s magazines. I love the Monkees. Some of the older girls have pictures of their boyfriends in their cubicles. I wish I had a boyfriend. I was thinking about writing to Davy Jones, because everyone would be dead jealous if I had a famous boyfriend. Nina Lowe wouldn’t be mean to me then. She’d be dripping all over me trying to be my friend, and I might say yes, but there again, I might not.
I hear a knock on the side of my wardrobe. Guessing it’s Laura, I tell her to come in.
‘I’m going over to ask her,’ she says. ‘Cheryl thinks this is a good idea too, so here goes.’
I want to tell her to go to Sadie’s cubicle instead, but it’s too late, she’s already gone. And then I think of how nice it would be if Nina Lowe didn’t blow me up any more, or make people laugh at me when I’m dancing. Or make fun of me when I speak. I can buy her presents with the half-crown Dad gave me before he left, and then she’ll really like me and I expect I’ll become quite popular, and instead of me trying to talk like everyone else, they’ll want to talk like me.
I don’t have the guts to go out of my cubicle so I stay where I am until Laura comes back. The second I see her face my insides go all tight.
‘She said no,’ Laura whispers, and she looks really upset. ‘I asked her – I said, can Susan be struck on you, and she said … Well, she said … She doesn’t want anyone to be struck on her.’
I think she probably said something really nasty about me that Laura doesn’t want to repeat. I give a shrug to show I don’t care.
Laura stands there, not sure what to do.
I turn away and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m an ugly ginger nut, so it’s no wonder Nina Lowe doesn’t want me struck on her.
I won’t ask Laura to go to Sadie instead, because she won’t want an ugly ginger nut struck on her either.
It’s night-time now. We’re all back in our beds and supposed to go to sleep, because the lights are out. Tea was all right, because we had chocolate-spread sandwiches and apple pie, then we were allowed to go for a walk in the grounds. I didn’t have anyone to go with, because Laura’s gone down with a cold so she’s in the nursery, and Glenys has made friends with some girls from Discoverer who don’t want me in their gang. I don’t care. I don’t want to be in their stupid gang anyway, and if any of them poke fun at me again for having ginger hair and white eyebrows I’m going to smash their faces in.
Someone said that there’s a secret cellar under Dotty’s study that you can get to through the bush that’s in front of her window. We’re not really supposed to walk round that way, but I did, earlier, just to show everyone that I’m not scared of anything or anyone. (Mummy was never scared of anyone and I think I’m like her.) I couldn’t see the entrance to the cellar, but apparently one of these days we first-
formers have to go down there amongst all the spiders and rats to steal a bottle of Dotty’s wine. There are all these scary and dangerous things we have to do and I’m not looking forward to them one bit.
I did some washing before getting into bed, cleaning my bags with the special soap Auntie Nance gave me, and scrubbing the feet of my socks with a nailbrush. I rubbed a ladder into one of my stockings, so I’ll have to darn it when it’s dry, and the elastic has broken in my new suspender belt, but I don’t know what to do about that. When I’d finished I carried everything down to the laundry room, leaving a trail of water behind me that bossy old Cluttie made me mop up when I came back. I could hear the other girls sniggering at the top of the landing, but I didn’t care. At least my clothes are clean, when I expect theirs are all foul and smelly.
Everything’s gone quiet in the dorm. There are only first-and second-formers here; the third and fourth forms are allowed to come to bed later, when they put on the lights and wake us all up again. The fifth and sixth form have separate rooms, apart from the two girls at the end of the dorm. They’re both in Lower Sixth and they’re really fab, like models they’re so lovely-looking, especially Paula Gates. Whenever I watch her striding up and down the dorm, or laughing at a joke during breakfast or tea, I wish I could be like her, flicking back my hair – hers is lovely and dark and crinkly – and looking glamorous like a movie star. I don’t have the guts to ask to get struck on her, even though she’s always nice to people, and she even smiled at me once when I stood back on the stairs to let her go by. Sadie’s struck on her actually, lucky thing, because Paula always comes to tuck her up at night, and says something to make Sadie laugh. I wish I could be friends with them. If I was struck on Sadie they might include me.
‘Sue, Sue,’ Glenys whispers from the next bed. ‘Are you awake?’