Ashleigh and Remy Brett 1972 Aged 10 #5
‘Who took my last Malteser?’ he had asked as he proffered the empty box. ‘Was it you, Remy?’
She had shaken her head, but he knew.
‘Which one of you little rascals has run over the wet kitchen floor? There are footprints leading to the fridge. Was it you, Remy?’
She had pointed at her sister, but her mum wasn’t fooled.
This was no different.
As she spoke, she felt the spread of crimson on her chest and neck, picturing it like ink dropping into water, marking her out as dishonest.
‘Where the devil is she?’ Miss Delaney almost shouted, her face screwed up, eyes combing the playground, as she looked at her watch and scanned the horizon again.
‘I don’t . . . don’t know!’ A hot, clammy sensation engulfed her.
Tony always said she’d be a hopeless poker player or adulterer.
Aged ten, she’d had to look up both poker and adultery in the dictionary.
It had been fascinating. Tony, as ever, knew a little bit about everything.
The result, no doubt, of having an older brother like Gregory, who spoke and acted freely in front of his younger sibling.
Tony had even smoked, and seen three pictures of boobs torn out of a magazine, which he said he didn’t get, unsure what all the fuss was about, as his older brother and his mates went into raptures about the milk balloons, as he called them, sitting rather limply on the chest of a woman in an undone negligée.
‘Well, she can’t have just disappeared! Did she not have lunch with you?’ Miss Delaney sighed and huffed at the same time, indicating she was doubly mad.
Remy shrugged.
It made her feel bad. She knew exactly where her sister was, but wasn’t about to rat her out. That wasn’t the way with sisters. And certainly not the way with twins. Identical twins.
‘Well.’ Miss Delaney stared at her with a look of pure frustration.
‘I’m now going to have to go and inform Mr Gerald, who will have to spend his lunch hour looking for her, and the minibus is not going to wait.
It’s unfair if her going AWOL makes you, William and Rukmal late, it’s all stressful enough as it is. ’
‘I’m sorry.’ She felt it wise to apologise, even if it wasn’t really her fault.
Miss Delaney shook her head, and she felt the disappointment shower down on her like the dandruff that clustered on the shoulders of her teacher’s black jumper.
It was always this way, the collective praise, anger, or judgement directed at either one or both of them, as if everyone was aware that they were one person, split in two, and therefore it felt justified.
‘Get on the bus. I’ll be back in a jiffy.
’ Miss Delaney sighed again, as she shepherded the three of them on to the minibus where the engine was already running.
‘What a silly girl!’ was her parting shot, before leaving the three of them to sit amid the aged interior that smelled of diesel, sweat, and cheesy plimsolls. It was gross.
Remy wished she could open the windows.
Choosing a seat in the middle, she put her bag on the seat next to her to stop one of the others taking it. Inside nestled her ink pen, pencils, ruler, eraser, an apple which she was under strict instructions to eat on the way there, and a note from their mum that read:
My clever little dove! You can do this, just keep your eye on the prize; this amazing school! And if you don’t pass, don’t worry – either way, you are wonderful and your whole future awaits! We are proud and we love you! X
She knew the same note and a similar apple would right now be nestling in her sister’s bag, which was probably doubling as a seat as she hid in the mower shed on the edge of the playing field.
Miss Delaney came back, her face red, eyes small, mouth thin.
‘Thank you, driver, let’s go!’ she said as she sat down hard at the front of the bus. This was really happening: they were leaving without Ashleigh! And in that moment, Remy felt seven different types of sickness and nervousness! What would happen now?
Remy stared at the low red-brick building as the minibus rumbled out of the gates on to the main road and headed towards town, where St. Jude’s was located, and she felt her heart flex for her sister. It had been horrible to see her so distressed, so scared.
She looked back at the rather nondescript squat design of their school, the mobile classrooms tacked on to the side to cope with the ever-expanding population. The vast metal dumpsters at the back of the dining hall which gave off the foul odour of Spam fritters and grey mashed potato.
She’d studied the glossy brochure they’d been given about St. Jude’s Academy.
It was pretty, no doubt, with snaking plants that hung over the doors, neat hedging, science labs, lecture theatres, tennis courts, a swimming pool, and its very own music studio!
A school that was a world away from this little place that was crammed in among the 1930s housing estate where parking was a nightmare.
St. Jude’s had a wide gravel car park. Even the litter bins were pretty!
‘Right.’ Miss Delaney turned to face them all.
‘I am so sorry for the last-minute disruption.’ Remy felt this was directed at her, and her face coloured accordingly.
‘I want you all to keep calm.’ Her fast-paced speech and slight pant suggested she’d be better off taking her own advice.
‘You have worked so hard for this, and you are more than capable! Enjoy it!’ She gave a wide, false smile.
‘It’s a chance to see this fabulous school up close and its lovely facilities.
We’re all rooting for you. I know you can do it.
And remember, if you don’t pass, if you’re not offered one of the scholarships, it will still be a valuable experience and you will all thrive, no matter what happens, so, no pressure!
’ The teacher swallowed and wiped her hands on her skirt.
‘Relax, and do your best. Does anyone have any questions?’
William put his hand up.
‘You don’t have to put your hand up, William. There are only three of you in the minibus.’ Miss Delaney spoke sharply.
‘Erm, do you think Remy will get into trouble for missing the exam?’ he half-whispered, as if he might be able to ask the question without her hearing.
Remy turned to face him, giving him a hard stare that made him blink behind his gold-rimmed glasses and shrink back in his seat.
And it was in that moment that an idea formed.
Of course, he had assumed it was her who had not turned up!
She was the more easy-going of the two, less conscientious than her sister.
William thought she was Ashleigh, and Miss Delaney had not corrected him.
Did that mean Miss Delaney thought she was Ashleigh too?
Ashleigh, who wanted to go to St. Jude’s more than anything .
. . and she loved her sister more than anybody.
And just like that, it felt obvious, easy even!
‘Let’s not worry about that right now, let’s just concentrate on staying calm and maybe running through some of the practice questions in our head.’ Miss Delaney shook hers, and twisted her lower jaw before turning around. ‘Silly girl.’
There it was again. Remy heard her loud and clear and envisaged lobbing her apple at the back of the teacher’s head before thinking better of it.
It would be hard enough for her parents to deal with the fallout of the day without her being expelled for any apple-related injury Miss Delaney might sustain.
Miss Delaney, who couldn’t tell the difference between her and Ashleigh.
The silly woman . . .
Ashleigh
Ashleigh waited a good half an hour after the minibus had left, ensuring there was no way she could make the exam, before coming out of her hiding place.
She felt lighter, happier, yet worried too about being in trouble.
It seemed obvious to head to her happy place, and she went straight to the library, where Nancy was delighted to see her.
‘Hello, Miss Brett. You’ve caused quite a stir, little one, Mr Gerald has been running around trying to find you, Miss Delaney said you weren’t on the bus, but I’m glad you’re here. Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘I just need to call your mother.’
Ashleigh buried her head inside her reading book while Nancy whispered down the phone. It was a strange feeling, knowing she was talking to her mum about her.
‘Now.’ Nancy, having ended the call, bent down so they could speak quietly, calmly, without any of the hysteria she had feared. ‘I’ve told your mum that you’re safe.’
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was meek, her muscles uncoiled with something very close to relief.
‘Where were you? What happened?’
‘I hid in the mower shed because I didn’t want to do the exam.’
It felt good, the honesty, the openness, letting the truth out of its cage. Holding it in was never an option. It would eat away at her.
‘I see.’ Nancy smiled and nodded with her eyes closed, as if she understood.
It felt nice, it always did, being here in this room with its peculiar smell of dust and the exhaled wonder and gasps of delight lingering in the air from everyone who had ever read a book inside the magnolia-painted walls.
‘Would you like to help me put some books back on to the shelves?’
Ashleigh nodded. It was exactly what she felt like doing. Nancy handed her a small pile of books. She knew the drill. This was not her first rodeo.
‘I just need to call Mr Gerald. As I said, he’s been very worried.’
She listened to Nancy’s phone call to the headmaster as she trawled the shelves, searching for the correct alphabetical spot, her stomach churning at the thought that she’d worried Mr Gerald, who was nice.