Chapter 8
8
2001
The teacher, Mrs Warham, puts her arm around my shoulder and guides me inside. She’s got short grey hair and lines and must be at least a hundred years old. My stomach untwists a little as I take in the friendly room. The walls are covered with colourful paintings and letters. On the left, in the corner, is a carpeted area with cushions. As the rest of the class file in, they sit down there. Mrs Warham calls over a girl with pigtails that are straighter and shinier than mine.
‘Alice, this is Violet. She’s joining our class. Could you keep her company today? Her coat peg is already named.’
‘Yes, Mrs Warham.’ Alice smiles and holds out her hand. I take it and she grips hard, pulling me to the back of the classroom opposite the toilets. She points to an empty peg.
‘That word begins with V. Does it say your name?’
I nod.
‘What does it mean?’
‘It’s a flower. And a colour. Purple.’
‘Like your glasses.’ She giggles. ‘Take off your coat and then we have to sit in a circle on the carpet while Mrs Warham takes the register. I’m the first to be read out,’ she says proudly, ‘because my second name starts with an A too.’
‘My second name also starts with a V.’
‘You’ll be read out last, then,’ she says in a superior tone.
Quickly I take off my coat and hang it up with my bag. Alice takes my hand again and drags me over to the navy-blue carpet. We sit down. Everyone stares at me and heat floods into my face. A boy with jam around his mouth sticks out his tongue. Alice looks at two friends and the three of them grin. Alice finds a lot of things about me funny. Like my odd socks and the way I blush, and the pencil case she saw sticking out of the top of my bag. It’s in the shape of an elephant. Alice whispers something to her friends about that, but I don’t hear and they all laugh. At break, she and her friends giggle in front of the boys. At lunch they do handstands on the field to show them their knickers. They shoot me pitying looks when I say I don’t understand why anyone would want to do that. It’s the longest sentence I’ve said all day.
‘You don’t speak much,’ says Alice after the end-of-school bell goes and we collect our coats.
‘You’re a shrinking Violet,’ says her friend Georgie, and beams as if she’d just solved a maths problem. ‘That’s what my aunt calls her dog. His real name is Patch but he’s very shy and hides behind the sofa when I visit.’
‘Shrinking Violet, Shrinking Violet,’ call the others and clap their hands.
Georgie looks at me guiltily. I bite the insides of my cheeks to stop myself crying.
That night I have a quick chat with Uncle Kevin on the phone. His voice sounds tired but he can’t wait to start his new job on Friday. He asks how school went. I say it was okay. I don’t mention the laughing or handstands. At least tomorrow I won’t have to stay by Alice’s side. And after-school club wasn’t awful. We did craft work and then I was allowed to read my book. I’m reading Charlotte’s Web because it was one of Uncle Kevin’s favourite books when he was a little boy. I still don’t like spiders but they aren’t as scary as before.
I don’t mention my new nickname to him or to Mum. Perhaps those girls will have forgotten about it by tomorrow.
* * *
Mondays never used to bother me. It was just another day of the week. But I reckon, from now on, they are going to make me feel sick. I squeeze Mum’s hand tighter as we hurry onto the playground. I couldn’t sleep last night. My first three days at Applegrove Primary have been horrid. Last Thursday and Friday, Alice just wouldn’t leave me alone.
‘Where’s your dad?’
‘Why is your skirt long?’
‘Does your mum let you use her phone?’
‘Have you ever worn lipstick?’
‘Why do you like books so much?’
The questions go on and on and Alice never waits for an answer because she’s such a know-it-all. When she said that my mum and dad must be divorced, I couldn’t be bothered to say no.
I don’t make a fuss, though, because Mum’s new job isn’t going well. She tells a friend on the phone that her boss tells really bad jokes and wears too much aftershave. At least my teacher is nice. She smells of pretty flowers like the perfume Mum sometimes wears if we’re dressing up smart.
I chat about Alice with Tinker instead of Mum. He’s a great listener and says I should be cat-like, in other words dignified and silent. I take his advice. After all, I learnt at my old school that the Egyptians thought cats were gods, so they must be very wise. I keep my head up and ignore Alice. Problem is, she can’t bear that and pretending she isn’t there just makes her shout ‘Shrinking Violet’ louder. At the end of school last Friday, she even pinched my arm. I did my best not to show how much it hurt.
‘Goodbye, darling,’ says Mum and kisses my cheek. ‘Have a lovely day. Remember we’re talking to Uncle Kevin again tonight. He’s got an office party at lunch. We’ll chat to him after, at seven o’clock our time – it will be two o’clock there and the celebrations will have just finished.’
The thought of that will get me through the day.
‘Who’s your Uncle Kevin?’ says Alice on the way in. ‘Your mum’s boyfriend?’
Alice has the strangest ideas. ‘No. Her brother. He’s in America.’
‘I’ve been to America,’ says Alice, and she puffs out her chest as if she’s flown to the moon and back.
She waits as if expecting me to ask lots of questions, but I go straight in and hang my coat and bag on my peg. She sits down next to me on the carpet. I look at the date on the calendar up on the wall. Mrs Warham crosses off each day as it passes. It’s a long time until December when term ends.
‘Dad took me and my brother to Florida. I saw Mickey Mouse. It was amazing. And Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast too. I got all their autographs.’
Georgie gives me a smile as if to say sorry for Alice. Georgie isn’t all bad. Or at least I didn’t think so, until she and Alice and their other friends cornered me on the field at lunchtime. All I wanted to do was to read. They thought I should do handstands with them instead. When I said no, Georgie ran off with my book. I chased her and she threw it into a puddle. It was the last thing Uncle Kevin had given me, apart from the silver book necklace that I wasn’t allowed to wear to school. Other children from our class saw her do it but pretended they hadn’t. I didn’t cry. I just managed not to. I didn’t want them to see me do that.
When I get home, I use my towel to dry my book. The pages smell funny and some stick together.
I sit by the phone and at seven o’clock exactly it rings. Mum puts the phone between us and we both listen. I ask what the party was like and his words go all bubbly as if they are orange squash that has been turned into orangeade. He talks about the colourful table glitter and cocktails. Apparently waiters walked around carrying trays of miniature food like burgers, hot dogs and salmon and cream cheese bagels. I don’t know what bagels are, but Uncle Kevin had three of them.
He says the company has just signed a big customer and that the party for this was also a good way for him to get to know everyone. He works on the hundredth floor. We used to live on the eighth floor of our tower block and could see across the whole city. Perhaps from his office Uncle Kevin can see England. Mum and I tease him when he talks about a woman called Cindy who showed him how to work the coffee machine. I say she makes his voice sound mushy. He tells us about a team-building trip they are all going on next weekend. There’s a pizza school in New York and they will spend the day spinning dough and choosing their own toppings before eating them.
Uncle Kevin hasn’t got long but quickly asks about us. I go quiet while Mum talks about her new boss and all his rules. She calls him a rude name. That doesn’t happen often. The doorbell goes and Mum hands me the phone before leaving the room.
‘And how are things going with my best niece?’
‘I’m your only niece,’ I say and manage a smile at our usual joke. I wish he was close enough to hug. ‘Things are okay.’
‘Is your teacher nice?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the other children?’
I don’t say a word.
‘Violet? It’s me. Come on. No secrets, right?’
I nod even though he can’t see.
‘Have you finished Charlotte’s Web yet?’
‘No. I’ve got to wait for it to dry.’
‘What happened?’
I still keep quiet but Uncle Kevin always could read silence.
‘Give it time, Violet. It’s not been long,’ he says softly. ‘You’ll make friends. Remember the books you haven’t liked to start with – but eventually they’ve become favourites?’
I take a moment. ‘Yes. Like Where the Wild Things Are . At first I was too scared to look at the pictures.’
‘And friends often appear from the most unexpected places. Perhaps you’ll get close to someone in after-school club who isn’t in your class. Or someone in your street. Remember, my best friend in England is one of my neighbours, not a colleague.’
Uncle Kevin and his friend got to know each other when a water pipe burst.
Mum comes back to the phone and we say goodbye. Uncle Kevin tells me he loves me. I say it back. He always makes everything better. He’s right. Alice may not think I’m on the same level as her and her friends but it doesn’t matter. I might find the best friend ever away from Applegrove Primary.