She stands back onto her feet and takes a breath to calm herself down.
“He’s in London. He’s going to try to get a job in the city, he thinks, but for now he has a part-time job in a garage. I hope your little friend is proud of herself.”
“Julian having sex with my friends is not my fault, and I don’t like it any more than you do, OK?”
For once she doesn’t come back at me with something scathing.
“Pour me some water, will you. I’m desperate.” Mum sits at the kitchen table. She exhales a few long breaths and takes off her shoes, allowing herself to relax.
I get her a glass of water and hand it to her, then say, “Just before Mr. Du Putron arrived, Julian told me that Dad wasn’t really his dad. Is that true?”
The cup freezes just as it gets to her lips, and her eyes rest on my face. I am standing over her, waiting for the answer.
“Flo, can’t you see I am tired?”
“You’re tired? I’m tired of being lied to, and I have the right to know this, at least. Was Dad Julian’s dad or not?”
She takes a loud slurp of water, lights a cigarette, and then starts to speak.
“No. No, he wasn’t. OK? He wasn’t Julian’s dad.”
I feel my brain jolt forward, pushing tears toward my eyes, but somehow I manage to hold them back.
“Well, then who was his dad?”
“Someone I really loved,” Mum says, her eyes softening.
“What do you mean, ‘really loved’? Didn’t you really love Dad?”
“Not like I loved him, no. I had an affair when your father and I were first together. His name was David. I thought we would end up together, but his wife found out and left him over it and somehow that was my fault. He quit his job here and left the island, leaving me to deal with the mess we had made. Part of that was the baby I was carrying—his baby. I was frightened and heartbroken, and your dad, well, he was just willing to carry on like nothing had happened. So that’s what we did. We lived a lie for all those years.”
She takes a long drag on her cigarette and forces a guilty smile.
“Why didn’t you marry David if you loved him so much?” I ask, finally starting to understand something about my mother.
“Because he wasn’t brave enough to face up to any of it. He was a coward. So many men are. You will see that one day. I’ve always wanted to tell you, but the longer you leave something like that, the harder it gets. I am sorry, Flo.” Mum seems to be about to reach out for my hand, but changes her mind at the last minute.
“Do you ever speak to him now?” I ask, not quite managing to process her apology.
“No, I never heard from him again. He never once got in touch to ask about the baby. But if he turned up tomorrow, I’d forgive him,” Mum says frankly.
“But what he did was awful. He left his wife, then left you and Julian. How could you ever forgive him for any of that?” I ask, getting confused.
“Because there are some people in life that you have to forgive, no matter what they do. Because without them you’re nothing. You have no choice,” Mum says, stubbing out her cigarette. She blows out until all the smoke has left her lungs and says, “You can’t escape it when you love someone. It becomes a part of who you are. If you’re lucky enough to stop loving someone who doesn’t love you, then fine, but if you can’t, then it’s the worst pain a person can feel. And that’s the pain that I’ve lived with all these years. He took a part of me with him when he left, and I never got it back.”
Mum gets up and moves into the living room to lie on the sofa. I pour myself a glass of water and go back up to my room. I take Renée’s letter out of the bin and read it another five times before I finally fall asleep.
RENÉE
I watch the clock. Has it broken? No, it’s moving, just so slowly. The sound of everyone else’s pens scratching on their exam papers is almost deafening. I don’t seem to know anything. How do I not know anything? I never even skived geography. What was I doing in all those lessons that I didn’t learn any of this stuff? When Miss Trunks finally says the time is up, I can’t wait to get outside.
“Hi, guys,” I say as I walk up to Charlotte, Bethan, and Nancy. “Shall we go down to the hockey pitch and rub out the white lines on the grass?”
“Sorry, Renée. We’re going up to the library to revise for the French exam this afternoon. You can come if you like,” says Charlotte, looking a bit worried about me.
“No, I’m cool. I’ve got stuff to do. Good luck.”
I watch them walk away. They used to be so much fun. Everyone has gotten so serious lately.
“Margaret,” I shout as I see her outside the toilets. “Let’s go have a fag?”
“Sorry, Renée. I need to stay here and go over my French vocabulary. I think I want to do French for A level,” she says with excitement.
“Come on, Margaret. We can go to the bike sheds and swap everyone’s wheels around?”
“Sorry, Renée. I want to do well. I need to pass my GCSEs.” She turns and walks toward the library. I think better of calling after her.
As I walk out of school, I see Carla and Gem sitting on the grass, textbooks out. It looks like Gem is testing Carla on her French. They look up and wave. I smile back and keep walking like I actually have somewhere to go.
I walk down the hill toward town. I see boys starting to fill the pavement in front of me as they pile out of school on their lunch break. Then I see Lawrence, on his own as usual, holding a bottle of Coke and a brown paper sandwich bag. He sees me through the crowd and starts to walk away. I feel like I have nothing to lose.
“Lawrence, Lawrence!” I call after him. All the other boys are laughing at me because he won’t turn around. I run to catch up with him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Lawrence, please talk to me.”
“Why would I want to talk to you?” he says, his face still so angry, like no time has passed at all. “Need some attention, do you? On your terms, obviously. Everyone else has dumped you, so now you’re running back to me thinking I’ll be stupid enough to forgive you?”
“Did you hear about what happened with Flo’s brother?” I ask, feeling that I need to know this before I say anything else.
“There isn’t anyone under the age of twenty-five on the entire island that doesn’t know about you and Flo’s brother. You put out pretty quickly for him, didn’t you? The guys in my year take the piss out of me every day because you didn’t want to lose your virginity to me, but you couldn’t wait to lose it to him. Thanks for that.”
I hadn’t thought about Lawrence getting a hard time over this too. I feel even worse. He keeps walking away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I shout after him. “I’m sorry for making you feel stupid for having feelings for me, and I’m sorry for leading you on. I’m sorry if I was mean to you, and I’m sorry for what happened with Julian and that you got shit for it too. I wish it had never happened.”
He turns to speak but stops himself. I stand in front of him feeling so pitiful it’s almost painful. I think he starts to feel sorry for me. He gets out some fags and offers me one. I wait for him to take it first so he can light it in his mouth, but he doesn’t.
“Friends don’t do that kind of thing, do they?” he says, offering me a peacemaking smile.
“No, friends don’t,” I agree.
I take the fag and light it myself. He gives me half of his sandwich, and we walk into town to get chips. I tell him everything, and he doesn’t tell me he loves me.
RENÉE
“Today’s the day,” says Aunty Jo as we unpack more of her clothes that have been sent from London. “What time do you get your results?”
“I need to be at school at 11 A.M.,” I say as I hang a dress up in her wardrobe. My hands are visibly shaking.
Aunty Jo goes to the sofa and pats the seat next to her. “Come here,” she says. “I was useless at school, and my life has been OK. I’ve traveled the world, owned businesses, and now look, I am ren
ting a nice house on a beautiful island and have my brilliant niece living with me. Life turned out OK for me, didn’t it? Whatever happens today doesn’t mean the rest of your life is defined by it, OK?”
“OK,” I say, still unsure.
“Go on, why don’t you walk up to school now? Go the long way, clear your head. Get ready for a nice surprise. I’m sure you haven’t done as badly as you think. Today might end up being a good day. Imagine that.” She smiles.
I leave the house and walk toward school. It’s only 10:30, so rather than hurry I go down into the Sunken Gardens to smoke. The last time I was here, it was pelting rain and freezing cold, and Flo and I were hugging and laughing and drawing on the wall. How did that all go so wrong? I look at the wall. Renée Flo is still there, as if it was written yesterday. My guilt feels just as fresh.
Every day throughout the exams I hoped to find a paper airplane in my school bag, but I never did. I don’t even know if she read my letter—maybe she just threw it away. I wouldn’t blame her, I guess. I stub my fag out onto my name and head up to Tudor Falls. I need to get these results over and done with.
As I approach the school I can see that almost my entire class is already there. Carla and Gem are jumping up and down in the car park, screaming, “Eight A-pluses! OH MY GOD!” I walk past them. Inside, Margaret comes straight over.
“I passed five, PHEW. Math, English, science, drama, and French. I guess I could be a French scientist when I grow up then?” She scuttles off, laughing at herself. Next I see Charlotte and Bethan, both excited to have gotten six GCSEs each. I congratulate them and keep walking toward the table where the envelopes with our names on them are laid out. I scan them. Flo’s is already gone; so is Sally’s. I pick up my envelope and take it outside, finding a bench at the edge of the playground. I open the envelope.
I’ve passed. I have passed everything. An A for drama, Bs for English language and literature, C for math, and five little “a”s for everything else. I’m shocked—amazed, in fact. Why had I been so frightened? Of course I would pass my . . . And then I realize. Those five little italic “a”s are actually “d”s. I’ve failed everything but four. I’ve failed. I don’t have enough GCSEs to stay at Tudor Falls.
Confusion comes first, then shock, then I level out on fear. What am I going to do? I’m so embarrassed. Girls all around me are screaming with joy over their results, hugging each other, hugging their parents, laughing, and jumping up and down. And here is me, alone in my moment, feeling instantly like a trespasser at Tudor Falls. How could I have been so stupid? How have I failed all but four? No one fails all but four. I’ll have to go to the public grammar school, no one there will know me, Flo will forget about me, and I’ll never get her back. I’ll have to tell all those new people that my mum died when I was seven, and they’ll all ask me about it, and no one will know anything about me, and I’ll have to start all over again, and I can’t do that. That’s even worse than coming back here next term and facing everyone after what I did to Flo.
I walk aimlessly back into the school and toward the toilets. Margaret runs after me and asks me how I did. I pass her my results form, then grab it back and keep on going.
“You failed?” she whispers as she comes after me. I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard her so effortlessly control the volume of her voice.
“Yeah, I’ve failed. I am officially the most stupid person in our year,” I say, very matter-of-fact.
“So you’re leaving Tudor Falls?”
“Looks like it,” I say coldly.
“I’ll miss you,” she says.
A part of me wants to shove her aside and continue into the toilets, where I can crack on with having my breakdown, but she looks so upset.
“You’re my best friend,” she says, her eyes now fixed on the floor.
I’ve never thought about myself as important to Margaret before, but of course I am. We’ve been partners in class for five years. The two of us had no one else, so we stuck together. A wave of guilt comes over me as I think about her in sixth form sitting on her own and feeling lonely.
“I’ll miss you too,” I tell her as I put my arms around her, realizing that this is the first act of affection we have ever shared.
“You’ll make new friends at the grammar school and forget about me. I know that,” she says quietly.
I should reassure her, but I can’t lie. Mean as it sounds, I think it’s OK to be honest about who people are in your life. It saves you or them from being disappointed if you can’t keep up the lie. Realizing that I would never be as important to Carla and Gem as they are to each other was one of the biggest revelations I could have had. I don’t want to lead Margaret on. I know that our friendship won’t go beyond Tudor Falls. We’re different kinds of people.
“Go on, go home and tell your mum how well you did. I’ll see you around, yeah?” I say.
She wipes her eyes and walks away. As I watch her, Miss Anthony calls me.
“Come in here, Renée. Come on.” She gestures for me to go into Room Six.
I sit at my old desk; she sits at Flo’s. I take this as my cue to start crying.
“I heard about your results,” says Miss Anthony gently. “There are still lots of options for you, Renée. You mustn’t feel like this is the end of your education. The grammar school could be good for you. There are more non-academic subjects, and a change might be just what you need.”
I stare aimlessly at the blackboard, remembering my life plastered all over it.
“Renée, how are you feeling?”
I turn to Miss Anthony. Her face is full of pity for me. Fair enough. I am a loser on every level.
“I feel like a waste of space. Like my whole life has been building up to the moment I failed. Like I don’t have the energy to make up for what I’ve done, or to start again, or for anything. I feel like I want to be someone else.”
Miss Anthony moves to Margaret’s old seat and puts her arm around me.
“You’re not the tough little cookie everyone thinks you are, are you?”
As much as it pains me to do so, I shake my head.
“Will your family be OK with your results? Would you like me to talk to them?”
“No, it will be fine. Things at home are fine.” It is nice to be able to say that without it being a lie.
When I eventually summon the courage to leave Room Six I go into the toilets and splash my face with cold water. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I never thought my time here would end so dismally. School was always the place I was happiest. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
When I get down into the foyer, everyone has gone. The table that had our results on it is cleared, and the caretaker is jingling his keys, obviously keen to lock up and get on with his summer holiday.
“Bye, Mr. Blake,” I call to him. He doesn’t hear me as he disappears into his office.
I carry on out. As I walk across the playground I remember the games of tag we played at break, the time I fell over and scraped my knee—I still have the scar. The time Margaret convinced herself that there was a man in the bushes and the entire school got sent inside only to discover the gardener was in there digging up a tree. It all seems like so long ago already.
As I walk toward the school gate I see a silhouette that makes my heart jump. I get closer, preparing myself to be hammered further into the ground.
FLO
When I see Renée coming toward me I don’t know where to look. Should I watch her as she walks, or look away and act surprised when she gets to me? Neither. I should be bold. I start walking toward her. We stop and stand face-to-face. Tudor Falls is behind her, watching us to see what happens next.
“I saw Margaret. She told me about your results. She looked as upset as you do,” I say, quite shocked by how pale she is.
“I bet you think I’m even more of a loser now, don’t you?” she asks, not looking at me.
“I couldn’t think you were more of a loser,” I say.
/>
She nods and keeps her head down.
“How did you do?” she asks me after a short pause.
“I passed everything. Four As, three Bs, two Cs. I did well,” I say, trying not to look too happy about it.
“That’s great. I’m really pleased for you. I, on the other hand, have ruined my life.”
“What are you going to do? Grammar school? A job?” I ask, trying to move the conversation along.
“Grammar school, I guess, if they’ll have me. I can’t stay here anyway. At least you’ll be rid of me. I’m sure you’re pleased about that. I don’t blame you.”
“Actually I—” I’m cut off by the sound of a car rolling to a standstill behind me. I hear a door shut, then another. Renée looks angry. I turn around. It’s Sally and her mum.
“Florence,” says Mrs. Du Putron as she pushes Sally by the elbow toward me. “Sally has something she needs to tell you, don’t you, Sally?”
Sally folds her arms. She huffs and tuts in her usual style, then after a few seconds her entire face changes, and she starts to sob. Renée and I share a bemused look. This is a first.
“I’m sorry, Flo. I’m sorry for what I’ve done,” blubs Sally.
I’m confused. First Sally cries and then she says “sorry”? Is this really happening?
“Come on, Sally. Tell Florence why you are sorry,” urges her mother.
Renée steps forward and stands next to me. Sally sniffs in a noseful of snot and starts to speak. She is spitting and spluttering all over the place.
“I never slept with Julian. He isn’t the father of my baby. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. I didn’t know Dad would beat him up and that he would leave Guernsey.”
There is a pause that feels as pregnant as her belly.
“What did you say?” asks Renée, her head thrust forward, her bottom lip hanging low.
“I said that I never slept with Julian. I made it up. He isn’t the father of my baby,” repeats Sally, dropping her head.
“Well, who is the father then?” asks Renée. More capable of words than me.
Paper Airplanes Page 19