by Noël Cades
* * *
The coldness of the evening air revived her enough to straighten out her appearance in the nearest cloakroom before going into prep. Thank God there was no one else around. Her hair was everywhere, falling around her face. Her clothes were rumpled and coming apart. Her lips were bruised and swollen.
Shock put her into survival mode. She tucked her blouse back in. Splashed her face with water and dried it. Smoothed and tied back her hair.
Then she leant on the basin and hung her head, closing her eyes for a few seconds.
Everything throbbed.
Like an automaton, she rushed to get her books and to join the others before the second bell went. Would they notice anything amiss? She felt like she was naked, that the whole world must be looking at her and knowing. She felt that there was writing all over her, that everyone would be staring. She held her head low, tried to hide in the crowd, sat down and huddled herself over her work.
A sharp nudge. WHAT’S WRONG??? Charlotte was looking at her, concerned.
ALL FINE she scribbled back, erasing it almost immediately. She wasn’t fine. She would never be fine again.
* * *
Somehow she found a still place inside her. It enabled her to get through supper, go through the motions of conversation, walk back with the others, use the bathroom, get ready for bed.
"I’m so bored of me," she told Charlotte. "Tell me an exciting story about your life."
Charlotte launched into a tirade about Teresa Hubert and Miss Partridge.
In one evening she had learned to act. To dissemble. To stash real-Laura deep away, in the still place.
She suspected that Susie was not convinced, but she didn’t care. She dreaded her dreams tonight, she knew they would be confused, and she feared she would talk in her sleep.
What was going to happen in their next German class? How could she face him? Did he hate her now? Had she ruined his life?
Would she ever feel like that again, be in his arms again?
And she wondered what he was doing now. Her mind reached out across the dark playing fields, to where the groundsman's cottages were. He would be alone, she thought. She feared he was angry. She missed him.
"Dear Diary, everything has gone wrong."
* * *
As it was, sleep evaded her. She lay for what seemed like hours, hearing the others breathe, Margery snoring slightly. Her pillow seemed alternately too hot or icy cold when she turned it. Her mind kept racing, she felt alternately excited and worried.
In the end she got up and crept to the bathroom. She sat on the cold tiles, her arms wrapped around her legs.
Then someone came in. It was Susie. "Come with me." Susie led her to the fire escape - it was strictly forbidden to go out on it, but had to be left accessible nonetheless. Occasionally people sneaked out on it to smoke.
The night air was freezing by then, there would be an early frost tonight. It made the stars brighter.
"I like it here," Susie said. She kept her voice low. There weren’t any teachers’ windows nearby, but it always paid to be careful. "I often come here while you guys are sleeping. I can’t sleep as early as lights out."
The fire escape was on the side of the building, so there were no panoramic views of the playing fields, but you could see about half of them. Not as far as the cottages, but Laura had looked through the dorm windows at them beforehand. No light had been on.
"So what’s happening?" Susie said. "Is it Jonathan?"
"Who?" Laura was momentarily thrown.
"Obviously not then. Jonathan - your supposed boyfriend from St Duncan’s."
He always signed his letters Jon. But even if he hadn’t he seemed so remote, so long ago now, that she would have forgotten anyway.
"So is it a girl then? As I said I won’t judge. My cousin’s gay." Susie couldn’t see how it could be another boy, Laura had never mentioned anyone else, and there were no boys anywhere around that she could think of. There was a younger lad who helped the old gardener but he was simple.
"It’s Mr Rydell."
When she spoke his name, it was as though the whole night sky rang with it. It pealed across the playing fields, she was sure he must hear it. All the world was echoing with it.
Susie wasn’t unduly shocked. "You have a crush on Mr Rydell? He’s very good looking, I can’t blame your taste. Or has he been mean to you or something?"
Mean? Laura couldn’t imagine him ever being mean. He was the absolute inverse.
"It’s not... a crush as such," she said.
Susie waited. The words were on Laura’s lips but she struggled to say them. Would Susie believe her? Would she think it was wrong or stupid?
"I was in his classroom earlier, and…" It was so hard to articulate. Putting it into words, the enormity of what had happened.
"And?"
"We kissed."
"Christ!"
Susie was silent for a moment, absorbing the news, and Laura dug her nails into her thumbs.
"I take it that this was ok? I mean he didn’t force himself on you?"
God no. How could he? Laura started to explain. Briefly, without too much detail. How he looked at her. How he had sat and spoken with her several times. How it had just happened in the German classroom. How he had suddenly told her to leave.
Then it was all too much, the brief exhilaration and the fear and the anxiety, and the isolation she felt. Bottling up how she felt about him for weeks had been hard enough. Then today, and having to keep it from everyone. And not knowing where she stood now, what he felt, what she could expect next time she saw him. Now it was all out and she couldn’t stop the tears.
Susie put her arms around Laura and hugged her. "It’s going to be ok. It’ll work out."
11. On edge
Laura couldn’t touch breakfast the next morning. The others noticed her loss of appetite and how pale and tired she looked. She had barely eaten anything the evening before so she was able to attribute it to still being unwell. Susie cast her a sympathetic look but kept her confidence.
It was two more days until Monday and the next German lesson. She had the whole weekend to wonder if she would bump into Mr Rydell. But she felt deep down that he would avoid her.
It was torment. Everywhere she went she found herself surreptitiously looking out for him. Wondering, hoping beyond hope, that he would appear.
Concentrating on Saturday morning lessons was hard enough at the best of times because the weekend had pretty much arrived, and everyone was longing for lunch after which they would finally be at leisure. Hockey teams would play home matches or be driven off in the school coach to play away games but everyone else could do what they wanted.
This particular morning was agony. Laura could only stare at the clock, wondering if she might see him between lessons, or after lunch.
She would have liked to spend some time with Susie but unfortunately Susie had detention.
"Let’s talk later this afternoon," she told Laura at lunch. "I’m in the clink for Geography yet again, but they’ll surely let us out before nightfall."
* * *
In the history of Francis Hall there had never been hostilities as venomous as those that had broken out between Mrs Ayers and Susie Clarke.
It was Mrs Ayers’ fault for starting it. She had been in a particularly foul mood the first time Susie came into her Geography lesson, and attempted to give the girl a demerit for not having the right textbook. When Susie quite rightfully and politely pointed out that it was her first day and no one had given her any books yet, Mrs Ayers shrieked at her for answering back and tried to give her a detention as well.
Most girls would have backed down, but Susie did not. The matter escalated to Mrs Grayson, who was forced to find a resolution that was fair to Susie without enraging Mrs Ayers. There was no way to do this without revoking the demerit and the detention, effectively meaning that Susie had won. No amount of Mrs Grayson phrasing it as an "unfortunate misunderstanding" could save Mrs Ayers’ humili
ation. She had never lost before.
From that moment Mrs Ayers hated Susie with every fibre of her being and poured forth the full force of her venom upon her. As a result, Susie decided that Mrs Ayers would have to be destroyed for once and for all, but knew she was going to have to play a very long game to achieve this. The alleged blood of Machiavelli didn’t run in her family’s veins for nothing, so she was prepared to take her time.
To start her campaign, Susie became perhaps the most exceptional student of Geography that Francis Hall had ever witnessed. She was a bright girl, and it didn’t take much more than a bit of extra study to excel in a subject like Geography. The hours spent in the library poring over the names of cloud formations and trying to memorise the rivers in Africa she considered to be the equivalent to equipping a suit of armour. Putting in extra hours on her homework was loading her gun.
"Mrs Ayers really has it in for you doesn’t she?" someone commented, when Susie’s latest, flawless essay was given a C.
Susie made it as difficult as possible for Mrs Ayers to give her demerits and detentions. She was always on time, her hair and clothes were immaculate beyond measure. She was a neat girl anyway so this wasn’t hard.
Despite this, Mrs Ayers continued to hand out punishments for the slightest, most spurious reason. Susie never complained. She simply used the detentions to study even harder at Geography. Her zeal mystified the others, who couldn’t see why anyone would put in so much effort for The Axe.
"It’s necessary," was all Susie said.
But Mrs Ayers alone knew that Susie had not submitted to her. So while she continued to hate and punish her, she began slightly to fear her.
Margery queried the endless detentions, but Susie just replied "give her enough rope."
* * *
Laura remained nauseous with misery and anxiety all day. It was miserable weather too, rainy with a blustering autumn wind, and the pitches got so waterlogged that matches were cancelled.
The only thing keeping everyone going was the thought of next weekend’s exeat. "Five more days," Charlotte counted. They were hanging out in the dorm because Teresa Hubert and her group had already claimed the common room. It simply wasn’t big enough for all of them.
A major task on the exeat weekend for many girls was to come back with an outfit for the half term dance. The Lower School formal was held the day before the Upper School event, but was considered no less important to those attending.
There were strict rules for outfits: skirts still below the knee, modest necklines, nothing too tight or clingy. Any girl wearing clothes considered unsuitable was required to change into her gym kit or return to her house. This was tantamount to the same thing, since no one could countenance appearing before the St Duncan’s boys in a tracksuit.
For Margery the entire affair was an ordeal as she was shy about her appearance. She also still had the wardrobe of a young girl, no one had realised that she was growing up and might need something more sophisticated. Most of the other girls planned to wear actual cocktail dresses, even off-the-shoulder. To get away with this usually required a last-minute hasty rearrangement of taffeta sleeves, once safely through the dress inspection.
Margery didn’t want to be the only girl there wearing a knee-length rah-rah skirt and baggy cardigan.
"We’ll go shopping on the exeat," Laura promised her.
Margery doubted her local village shops would have anything. Maybe she could persuade her father to drive them into the town.
Laura was looking forward to staying with Margery, but now she couldn’t think past this weekend: spending two entire days with minimal chance of seeing Mr Rydell.
Susie returned back from her scheduled hours of punishment. Fortunately it had been Mr Tyrrell rostered on to monitor the miscreants this weekend, and he barely noticed what anyone did. Which in Susie’s case was reading a forbidden novel masked with the dust jacket of a school library book.
"You’re not still going through with your plan, are you, Susie?" Margery said. She still couldn’t believe that Susie would actually dare to spend an entire weekend hidden in Darius’s and Julian’s dormitory at St Duncan’s. It was an absolutely mad scheme.
"Of course. I could hardly cancel now, they’re expecting me."
* * *
Susie and Laura eventually found some time to talk alone in the music building. They were fed up with being cooped up at Michaelmas House, so early on Saturday evening they braved the foul weather and made their way there.
The practice rooms were usually occupied at the weekend, but they rightly guessed that even the keenest musicians would be reluctant to go out in the current downpour. All four boarding houses were a long walk away from the music building.
Inside they had their pick of empty rooms. Laura sat on a piano stool, and Susie pushed some sheet music out of the way and perched on the table, swinging her legs.
"Monday then," Susie said. "The big showdown with the handsome Mr Rydell."
Laura felt embarrassed. "Nothing’s going to happen in front of everyone. He’ll probably just ignore me and try to pretend it never happened."
"I don’t think he’ll leave it at that. It wouldn’t be safe, just to assume you’d drop it as well. Plus there’s the fact that he likes you strongly enough to have crossed the line in the first place. It’s not like it was just a peck on the lips, it all sounded pretty full on from what you said. I suspect he’s wrestling with his conscience."
"What would you do?" Laura asked. "I mean if he just says nothing and that’s it. Or says it’s a bad idea."
"If I were you? If I really liked him, really and truly and utterly, I wouldn’t take no for an answer."
How did one "not take no for an answer"? What did it even mean?
"Do you think he’s worried about the age gap?"
"Undoubtedly. But I shouldn’t let it worry you. Bisnonna was only fourteen when she married my great-grandfather, and he was nearly thirty," Susie told her. "And Juliet, and the Virgin Mary."
All these examples seemed so remote, lost in time and history. Laura couldn’t feel a connection to them.
"Dear Diary, I’m so nervous about Monday I feel sick. Susie is the only person I can talk to. I just have to get this over with. I don’t even know what I want. I need to think like Susie, not like me."
12. Making a choice
Laura could hardly breathe during the next German lesson. She was on edge the entire time, wanting to avoid looking at Mr Rydell but not being able to stop. He had them write out exercises, and spent much of the class marking work. He rarely looked up.
The lesson went agonisingly slowly. She didn’t know if she was more terrified that he might just try to pretend it never happened, or if he confronted her about it. Would he be angry?
She studied him at his desk. His eyes were fixed on the books he was correcting, his face set and resolute. Look at me, she willed. Please look at me and give me some kind of sign. At least let me know you don’t hate me.
Trying to concentrate on her own work was very hard. But she didn’t want to mess it up in case it looked like she was deliberately trying to give him cause to detain her. That was Teresa Hubert’s pathetic trick. Laura wanted him to approach her on his own terms.
When the bell went everyone else scrambled to leave, since it was break time. She picked up her things more reluctantly.
"Cathy, Laura, could you both stay behind for a moment."
This was it.
Mr Rydell deliberately didn’t even look at her as he gave the order. Her stomach was churning worse than she could remember.
He also looked more devastating to her than he ever had before, serious and commanding. His lips were set in a firm line. He also seemed taller than ever, so much older than her. What was she even thinking that he might be seriously interested in someone like her, just a schoolgirl?
He dealt with Cathy first. She had missed classes through illness, and he was setting her the work she needed to do to catch up. It
only took a couple of minutes, and then she scuttled away.
Now it was just the two of them. Laura was so nervous she felt nauseous. He began. He spoke looking directly at her and yet even though he met her eyes it felt like he was speaking from behind a screen.
"I would like to apologise to you for what happened the other day. It was completely unacceptable of me. I won’t try to make excuses, but I can promise you it will never happen again."
She said nothing, only looked back at him. At his eyes, the faint shadows she also saw around them. He had lost sleep too.
"This won’t make any difference to how I treat you in class. It was entirely my fault," he continued.
It sounded rehearsed. He was saying what he knew he had to say, not what he wanted to say. It gave her courage.
What would Susie do?
Don’t take no for an answer.
Still without speaking, Laura went up to him. She put her hands on either side of his face, and pulled him down to kiss her. He didn’t have time to react, to step back.
As soon as her lips were on his he closed his eyes, and he groaned as the kiss deepened. "Laura…" he said, the start of a protest, but his arms went around her and she clung to him.
It was insanity. Anyone could have walked past.
She felt the heat of him again, tasted him. She wanted to drown in him. He returned the kiss in full measure.
"It wasn’t just you," she said as she broke away.
He sat on the edge of the desk, and looked directly at her. She remained standing, and their eyes were at the same level.
"Is this what you want?" he asked.
For a second she was terrified, but there was only one answer. She could barely whisper.