One Day at a Time

by Susan Lewis

  Dot’s door opens. ‘All right, Susan, come in,’ she says.

  I’ve never been in her private quarters before, so I’m feeling quite important as well as a bit nervous as I step inside. Her sitting room turns out to be not very different to her study, dark and old-fashioned and full of books that smell. She’s got some nice armchairs either side of her gas fire, and some paintings of the countryside hanging on the walls. There’s a grand piano in one corner close to the window. I didn’t know she could play. I wonder if Celery sings when they have their private evenings together in here. Everyone says they’re lezzies and I expect it’s true.

  ‘Sit down,’ Dot says, pointing to one of the armchairs.

  She’s never let me sit down before, so it makes me feel a bit suspicious to be invited to now.

  She sits down opposite me, and rests her elbows on the arms of the chair. ‘I don’t think you’re aware yet,’ she says, ‘that you are due to leave this school on Thursday, when the half-term holiday begins.’

  My heart gives a jump. No, I didn’t know that. Please don’t let her be about to tell me she’s changed her mind now, and is going to punish me for last night by keeping me here.

  ‘In the light of your escapade yesterday evening,’ she continues, I am going to ask your father to remove you today.’

  It takes me a second to realise what she’s said, then a weird thing happens: my head starts to spin.

  ‘Miss Clutterbuck has brought your suitcase and personal clothing out of storage, and once we’ve all left for church, I’d like you to go upstairs to pack your belongings.’

  I don’t know what to say. This is exactly what I wanted, except now it’s happening I’m not really sure … It’s all a bit fast. I mean … I can’t make myself think …

  ‘I’m truly sorry it’s come to this, Susan,’ she goes on, sounding quite friendly for her, ‘but I’m afraid I can’t allow you to continue disrupting the education of the other girls. Last night was the final straw. If Miss Ellery and I hadn’t spotted you and Sadie on the Downs as we were driving by, I dread to think what could have happened to you. So, it’s for your own safety, as well as the safety of your friends, not to mention the reputation of the school, that I’m being forced to let you go.’

  I feel my eyes starting to sting with tears, but I don’t want her to see, so I put my head down. What’s Dad going to say? He’s going to be really angry and upset … What am I going to do if he says he doesn’t want me at home? I don’t think he does, that’s why he’s always made me stay here. Dad! Dad! I want to shout. I wish he was here. I want him to say that everything’s going to be all right.

  ‘I’d like to wish you the very best for the future,’ Dotty says, standing up and holding out a hand to shake. ‘I hope you’ll find greater happiness in your next school.’

  I still don’t know what to say, but my throat’s too tight to let out any words anyway.

  She walks to the door with me, and puts a hand on my head before I go through. ‘God bless you, my dear,’ she murmurs, which is the only nice thing I’ve ever heard her say. It makes me even more upset, but I’m not going to let it show. I wish she’d been nice to me before, I think I could get to like her if she wasn’t always telling me off.

  Cluttie is waiting for me in the nursery. My suitcase is standing in the middle of the floor, and my denim jacket and jeans are hanging on the door. I’m so pleased to see them that I forget, for a minute, how scared I am. ‘Take your things up to the dorm,’ Cluttie says. ‘I’ll be along to help you once I’ve spoken to Miss Dakin again.’

  She drapes my clothes over my arm, and hands me my empty suitcase. The broken clasp is sticking out at an angle, reminding me of the morning it sprang open and everything fell out.

  I’m going along the corridor to the dorm when Sadie comes out.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I whisper. ‘I thought everyone had gone to church.’

  ‘Dot’s taking me in her car,’ she replies. ‘Why have you got your suitcase?’ Her eyes suddenly go very wide. ‘Are you being expelled?’ she gasps.

  I nod and try to look pleased.

  She claps a hand over her mouth, and then we throw our arms round one another. I’m trying not to cry and I think she is too. I make myself laugh and have a go at jumping up and down with glee, but nothing seems to be coming out quite right.

  Eddie

  I’m standing close to the back of the church with Gary. The Red Maids are all in now, filling up the front rows in their smart gaberdines and jaunty black hats. I didn’t see our Susan go by, but that’s not unusual, because sometimes we manage to miss her, and we arrived a bit late today. Not too late to see Sadie come in last with Miss Dakin, and after she took a place in one of the pews the whispering started up, buzzing along the lines like a current of electricity. Instinct alone tells me it’s about our Susan, and the fact that her best friend was escorted here by the headmistress can only mean they’ve been in trouble again. Normally, I’d be working myself into a state of anxiety by now, but since the worst has already happened, I’m only feeling embarrassed and apologetic that she’s caused so much fuss.

  For once I find it difficult to pay attention to the service, though Gary and I sing along with the hymns, and go down on our knees to pray. I’m aware of the other parents around us and I can’t help wishing my life was as easy as theirs. Of course, I don’t know anything about their lives really, but one thing I do know is that their daughters aren’t on the verge of being expelled.

  I feel as though the future is collapsing in front of us. All the wonderful opportunities are turning to dust, the hope has already slipped away.

  ... the world, which seems

  To lie before us like a land of dreams,

  So various, so beautiful, so new,

  Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

  Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

  And we are here as on a darkling plain

  Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight ...

  When the service is over the girls start filing out, and, as usual, most of them call out a cheery hello to Gary. He’s become a bit of a favourite with them, so he’ll miss coming here, I’m sure.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Lewis,’ Miss Dakin says when I walk outside. Susan didn’t come to church today. She’s still at school.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s in good health. Do you have your car with you?’

  ‘No, we came on the bus.’

  ‘Then perhaps I can offer you a lift back in mine.’

  This honour doesn’t bode well, but I expect she wants to talk to me about what’s happening on Thursday, so I open the back door of her Humber for Gary to climb in, then slide into the passenger seat myself, feeling everyone’s eyes watching us. I wonder if anyone knows yet that Susan’s being expelled on Thursday. The shame of it is crippling me, but I manage to keep my head up and behave with as much dignity as I can muster. Maybe it’s what the whispering was about in church, someone let the cat out of the bag, and now it’s all round the school. I suppose some of them will be thinking she wasn’t good enough to be here anyway, so good riddance. It hasn’t been easy for her, mixing with her betters, I wonder if any of them have considered that. Did they make allowances for her? If they did, they’re not going to any more, and I suppose I can’t blame them.

  ‘I’m afraid,’ Miss Dakin says, as we drive along, ‘that it’s been necessary to ask Susan to leave school today. She should be packed by the time we return.’

  This new blow comes right out of the blue, so it’s a moment or two before I can say, ‘I see.’ My throat’s turned so dry that my voice sounds scratched and unsteady.

  ‘Last night, she and Sadie Hicks left the school premises without permission,’ she continues. ‘They were picked up on the Downs by the police. I believe it was their intention to run away. As to their intended destination, I have no idea. Fortunately, they were discovered before any harm befe
ll them.’

  ‘I see,’ I manage to say again.

  I’m not sure what else I want to say, until remembering my manners, I apologise for the inconvenience and concern she must have caused. Then I feel a flash of blinding anger, though I’m not sure whether it’s towards our Susan, the school or life itself.

  When we get back to school Susan’s waiting with her suitcase at the front door. She’s wearing her denim jacket and jeans and looks very pale in the face and red around the eyes.

  Angry as I am, I can’t help thinking of how hard things have been for her, trying to fit in, wanting to be at home, missing her mother, being all confused about growing up. And she looks so lonely and afraid standing there. ‘It’s all right my love,’ I say, going to give her a hug. They might not want her any more, but I always will, and that’s never going to change. And what’s the point in telling her off, much as I’d like to? It’s too late for that now. The damage has been done, and over time she’ll see for herself what a mistake she’s made throwing away this chance of a marvellous future. By the look of her though, I think it’s already starting to dawn.

  Miss Dakin wishes us well, and disappears inside the school. She probably can’t wait for us to be gone.

  ‘Have you got everything?’ I ask Susan.

  She nods, so I pick up her suitcase in one hand and take Gary’s hand in the other to start walking down the drive.

  We’re about halfway along when a stampede of Red Maids suddenly rushes towards us. It seems half the boarders of the school have raced back from church to try and get here before she leaves.

  Gary and I stand to one side watching as she hugs all her friends, most of whom seem to be crying. Susan is too, but I can see she’s trying very hard not to.

  ‘Congratulations,’ some of them are saying.

  ‘Well done, you did it!’

  ‘We’re really going to miss you.’

  ‘Don’t forget to write.’

  ‘We love you Su Lu.’

  ‘Come and see us on a Sunday.’

  Sadie and Cheryl are sobbing as they cling to her. She’s clinging to them too. I know in her heart she doesn’t want to leave them, and it’s breaking mine to see it. This is a very bitter lesson she’s learning in being careful of what you wish for. How much am I to blame for this? What could I have done differently to make sure she fitted in and was happy?

  In the end, I hear the bell ringing, summoning the girls for lunch, so I tell Susan it’s time to go.

  A large crowd walks to the gates with us, gathering round like they aren’t going to let her go. I don’t think she’s ever felt so popular in her life. At the boundary they stand watching us walk away, waving and calling out ‘Good luck’ and ‘We love you’ until we’re out of sight.

  As we turn the corner I feel our Susan’s hand slip into mine. I know she’s still afraid of what I’m going to say, and trying her hardest not to cry, so I don’t say anything as we carry on along the main road towards the bus stop. There’ll be plenty of time for talking – and no doubt ranting and raving – when we get home; the important thing now is to get there.

  Can you see us, Eddress? Are you watching us from wherever you are? What would you do with her now? Give me an answer please, because we’ve lost our way and I hardly know what to do any more.

  I look down at Gary to find his little face turned anxiously up to me, and it’s all I can do not to sweep him up in my arms and squeeze him to within an inch of his life. Instead, I force a smile and say, ‘Well, here we are, three little pigs, wee, wee, wee, all the way home.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Susan

  THIS IS THE letter Gloucestershire County Education Office sent to my dad, which he let me see:

  Dear Mr Lewis,

  I have now received the report of the Consultant Psychiatrist at the Downend Child Guidance Clinic and note that you are willing for Susan to return home. Arrangements have been made for her transfer to The Grange School for Girls, Kingswood, after half-term, i.e. 26th February, and I shall be glad if you will kindly telephone the school to make an appointment to see the Headmistress, Miss D.I.S. Fisher, as soon as possible. The telephone number is Bristol 674149.

  Yours sincerely

  C.P. Milroy, M.A.

  Chief Education Officer

  It was a huge relief to find out that I wasn’t being sent hundreds of miles away to a place where I’d never see Dad or Gary or Kev – or put into care. Dad said they’d threatened to do that, but he’d told them he wouldn’t allow it, and that I had to come home.

  He made me stay in my room for two whole days when we got back from Red Maids, because he was so disappointed and angry he couldn’t bring himself to look at me, or talk to me. ‘If I do,’ he said, before he closed my bedroom door, ‘I can’t promise not to give you the hiding of your life, and you damned well deserve it, my girl, I hope you know that.’

  I lay on my bed crying and crying and hardly eating any of the meals that Gary brought up for me on a tray. I was really scared that Dad was thinking up a way to get rid of me again, or considering contacting the authorities to tell them to take me. I kept calling out to him, but he either didn’t answer or he’d come to my door and say, ‘I haven’t forgiven you yet, and I’m not even sure that I can, so learn to be quiet instead of making things worse for yourself.’

  I got so terrified that I started pushing the sheets down my throat to try and stop myself screaming. I kept wanting Mummy, but then I’d think of how disgusted she’d be with me too, and I hated myself so much that I wanted to kill myself – I would have if I’d only known how. I tried to get Gary to smuggle a note to Mandy letting her know I was being kept a prisoner, but he refused to. He even punched me for upsetting Dad. I didn’t hit him back, because I know I deserved it, but I definitely would have if he’d done it again.

  In the end, when Dad finally managed to bring himself to look at me, he came to sit on my bed and because I was sobbing so hard he pulled me on to his lap and told me to stop being silly. ‘Of course I still love you,’ he said, ‘but what you’ve done, Susan, the way you’ve behaved … Well, I hope you realise by now how serious it was, and how hard it’s been for me to forgive you.’

  ‘But you have now?’ I sobbed.

  ‘Only because Jesus tells us to be forgiving and we can’t go forward unless I do, but I want your promise that you’ll try hard at your new school, and that you’ll carry on going to see Dr Leigh.’

  ‘All right, I promise,’ I said, really meaning it, ‘but you have to promise never to send me away again.’

  ‘All right, I promise,’ he said, and then he gave me one of his giant bear hugs which made me feel quite a bit better, because he seemed more like his old self.

  After that he let me go back downstairs. I wanted to go out and see Mandy, but I didn’t have the courage to ask, so we all sat and watched telly together until it was time for bed. He came in and kissed me goodnight and even read The Taming of the Shrew which is one of my favourite Lambs’ Tales from Shakespeare. That Kate was really difficult and horrible to everyone, but in the end she became meek and obedient and her husband really loved her.

  I wonder if Kev will love me if I’m meek and obedient?

  I’ve been home for over a week now and I haven’t seen Mandy at all. I found out yesterday that she’s down at her gran’s house, on the Isle of Wight, and won’t be back until the end of the half-term break. In a way I’m quite relieved, because though I’m dying to see her and Kev, I’m a bit nervous about it too. Dad’ll go completely mad if he finds out, and if I make him angry again he might break his promise and put me into care. So I’ve been spending most of my time writing letters to all my friends at Red Maids, and crying because I won’t see them again. I mean, I’ll go up the church on Sundays, but it won’t be the same as sharing a dorm with them every night, getting into trouble together and complaining about our lessons and prep. I never, ever dreamt that I’d feel homesick for that vile place, but I have to ad
mit that I do. I keep thinking about my bed with no one in it, and my chair in the classroom pushed up against the desk. It was horrid when Top of the Pops came on this week, because now I don’t have them or Mummy to dance with any more.

  I know it’s my own fault, and I definitely don’t want to go back there, but it’s horrible losing people you love. I feel all miserable and fed up whenever I think about them. If only I could see Kev I’d probably feel all right again.

  Actually, something that’s good is that we’ve got a groovy new home help called Sarah Moon. I didn’t get on very well with her at first, mainly because she was all full of herself and thought she could boss me around, but it didn’t take me long to put her in her place. I was sorry after for upsetting her so much, but she shouldn’t have walked into my bedroom without knocking. It wouldn’t have been so bad if I was dressed, but I was only wearing my bags, and I hate anyone seeing me without any clothes. The way I screamed at her sent her running down the stairs, then she grabbed her coat and dashed out of the house. I stayed where I was, with a chair jammed up against my door so no one else could get in, and I was still there when Dad came home for his dinner.

  We made up in the end, after Dad went round her house to explain that she has to knock on my door before walking in, and now we’re almost like sisters we’re so close. She looks quite a bit like Cathy McGowan, but with shorter, curlier hair. Her husband, John, works for the Pru, and they have an eight-month-old baby, Josephine, who’s so sweet and cute you want to eat her all up. Sarah’s mum takes care of Josie when Sarah comes to our house, which is every weekday morning to make breakfast, and again in the afternoon so she’s there for when Gary gets home from school. I don’t need anyone there for me at my age, but quite often when Sarah goes at five I leave a note for Dad to let him know that I’ve gone to her house with her, and that Gary’s either with us, or in the Williamses’ or the Lears’.