A Bit of Fun
Emily! Em, lend me your homework, will you?
Clares hiss carried across the classroom, causing Miss Martin to look up from her register.
Clare Turner! That’s enough now, do your own work.
But Miss Martin, it’s so hard! Clare was never one to be at a loss for words.
Who told you it was meant to be easy? Besides, Clare, Emily has a different set of questions. No point pestering her.
What do you mean?! Shes sitting right at the front!
Exactly that! Miss Martin smirked, mimicking Clare. I gave her a separate task.
Thats not fair! Clare frowned but immediately started scanning the room for other possible helpers.
No one noticed how Emily shrank into herself at her desk, fearful of even raising her eyes.
Everyone students and teachers alike knew Emily was the classs reliable helper. She was bright as a button, and everyone made use of her, sometimes without even asking. Refusing meant collecting a fair few grudges along the way.
And Emily wasnt mean-spirited at all. She would let people copy, but, following her mums advice, always tried to do it subtly, so the teachers never had a reason to complain.
Emmy, I know youre a kind-hearted girl, but you must think about yourself too. If you want to get into a good college, you need top marks, and you musnt mess it up for the sake of those who cant be bothered to learn.
Her mums words were, of course, perfectly reasonable, but Emily could only sigh when she heard them. Her mum had no idea how hard it was to be the clever one in a class that didnt care.
Emily had been moved to this school after her mum got divorced. There were many reasons, one of which was that Emily had a baby brother now. He came from Emilys dads new marriage, before Emilys parents actually split.
No one ever explained all of this to her the adults were too busy with their problems. Emily used to sit in her room with her sketchbook and pencils, methodically scribbling each page black as coal, careful not to leave so much as a sliver of white space.
It was her nan who first noticed her little ‘artworks’.
What on earth are you doing, child? Look what they’ve done to you!
Nan was her dads mum but had, for some reason, taken Emilys mums side in the matter.
Hes just like his father, that man. Always out and about, only difference is he used to come home in the end and without any extra kids in tow.
And you forgave him?
What choice did I have, Rosie? Nan sighed. I loved him. And I knew he loved me too, or he wouldnt have kept coming back.
Was it hard to forgive?
Thats putting it mildly. Im not sure I ever really did. I didnt live, I endured it. And now I wonder why did I stick with it? Who needed that? Can’t go back now, though. Odd as it might sound, but you should be thankful your husband had a child with someone else. I see myself in you, Rosie youd have forgiven and taken him back, just like me.
I don’t know it hurts too much
I understand. And now Emily’s stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. Take care of her she’s done nothing wrong.
Yes. Youre right. Its our fault.
And so, Rosaline did what no one expected. She sat little Emily down and told her everything, just as it was.
Emmy, Daddy and I arent going to live together any more.
Why?
Were divorcing. Now itll be you and me and youll see Daddy at weekends, or when theres time. Emmy, dont cry. Look at me. Daddy will still be your Daddy. Hes not going anywhere, I promise.
But you? Angry tears streaked down Emily’s face. Adults could be so daft! Always doing things their way.
Im not going anywhere, darling.
Only then did Rosaline see what Emily had been so afraid of all along, the thing she tried to cover with black crayon.
It took time, but Rosaline explained, patiently, and bit by bit the fear lessened. Life settled, more or less. Emily saw her dad. Maybe not as much as she wanted, but enough for her to learn it was her mum whod been left, not her. Her dad still spoiled her, and he and her mum found a way for Emily not to lose out. Emily visited the seaside with her fathers new family, played with her brother, and even got on with her dads new wife, Laura, who wasnt the jealous sort, and actually liked children. There was nothing to fight about.
Still, the changes left their mark. Every so often, Emily would wonder if Dad left because she wasnt good enough. He seemed happy with Laura raising a son, planning more children. But why hadnt he wanted to raise her was there something wrong with her?
Her mum and nan assured Emily it wasnt her fault, that she was loved. But a niggling doubt burrowed deeper, surfacing whenever she needed absolute confidence.
It started as nothing much. Her knees trembled, thats all, when, in Year 1, she was called up to recite a poem at assembly.
Shed spent a week practising with her mum, reading it with expression in front of the mirror and was sure shed ace such an easy task. Emily had always been given the hardest parts in the nursery plays, because the teachers knew shed always learn the lines.
But this time something failed. The moment she took the mic, found her familys faces, the words vanished. Tears streamed, but nothing came out.
The Deputy Head knelt beside her, brushed away her tears and quietly said, Shall we save your poem for later?
All Emily could do was nod.
Miss Martin hadnt forgotten about her. After lessons she waited for Emily at the school doors.
So here you are! Ready to share your poem with me? Id love to hear it!
It seemed so small, not reciting a poem at assembly, but it was everything Emily cared about right then. She stood tall, let go of her mums hand, and rattled off the poem perfectly, so all the teachers nearby applauded.
Well done! I knew youd manage.
But… I couldnt do it at assembly Emilys eyes filled up again.
What do you mean couldnt? You did it just now! Look at all of us we cheered for you! Doesnt matter if its now or in the hall. You did it, and thats what matters. I can tell you, as Deputy Head, you are brilliant! Get it?
I think so
Emily would remember that forever. And when Miss Martin became her form tutor in high school, she was delighted. She knew she could trust this teacher shed support, understand, never let her down.
And Miss Martin really did look out for her.
Shes such a sensitive girl, your Emily, she said to Emilys mum. So bright, but fragile. She should be somewhere shell flourish. Have you thought of a school that specialises in maths? Shes got a real gift. But here Well, its just an ordinary comp, and most of the kids dont have her enthusiasm. She deserves to be with others like her, otherwise shell just end up smothered under it all.
Rosaline understood but couldnt yet do anything about it. The maths school was on the other side of town; nobody could drive Emily. Her dad’s wife was about to have another baby, Emilys gran was ill, and Rosaline worked two jobs to save up for a better flat. The one-bed they’d been left simply wasn’t enough.
Bear with me, Emily. Once things are sorted, well look at schools again, yeah? Rosaline would say, closing her eyes wearily, hugging Emily as they curled up on the sofa.
Its fine, Mum. Ill manage
Hows school?
All right! Emily tried to sound cheerful, though she knew things werent really all right.
No such thing as all right, Rosaline would say, tickling her until she giggled. Come on, details!
So Emily would laugh and dodge and then spill the truth.
No one at school openly bullied Emily. But shed always hear whispers behind her back.
There she goes, showing off again! Did you hear her at the board in history? With answers like hers, none of us will get top marks! Couldnt she just give an average answer for once?!
For a while, no one said any of this to her face, until one day everything changed.
Ten minutes, Em! Im never going to finish! Clare hissed, and reluctantly, Emily passed her the rough copy.
Miss Martin, busy with something on her computer, didnt notice Clares little act.
Tom, Emilys desk mate, quietly nudged his book towards her so she could check Clares questions.
Thanks, Emily mouthed, tapping the spot where Clares working had gone wrong.
No explanations were needed. Emily and Tom had sat together since primary. Tom understood with just a glance. Two numbers, a nod, and Tom quietly amended his answer.
Emilys rough sheet slid over to Clare, and silence settled until the bell rang.
Chaos broke out at the end of the lesson.
Are you all right in the head? You just sat there like a statue! Clare fumed, drumming her fist on Emilys desk. Its the end of term Im clueless! Some friend you are!
Clare, youre being unfair, Emily replied evenly, though irritation was bubbling inside.
Why does she always owe everyone something?
The phrase was her nans when irritated, shed swap all rude language for Why on earth…?! and forbade Emily from using anything stronger.
Youre a lady! Not a dock worker! Act like it!
But Nan, you call yourself a lady and you say those things! Ive heard you!
Im an old lady now! Nan would laugh. I can have a cigar and curse. You shouldnt! Its not becoming for a girl your age.
But the boys swear!
Thats different! Remember this: men can get away with it not the same for you. Its silly, but thats how it is. Want to end up your boyfriends mate rather than his wife?
Why not?
Because men dont marry their mates they marry the lovely, intriguing ones! Swearing is no way to be interesting.
So what is it then?
Thats another conversation entirely! Dont make me spell it out, Emily!
Remembering youre a lady, Nan? Theyd both laugh.
And now, Emily wanted nothing more than to answer Clare in words that would have made Nan roll her eyes, but she knew better.
Leave her alone, Clare! Tom snapped, jamming his physics textbook into his bag. Why do you always act like everyone owes you?
Thats what friends do, Tom! Clare pouted, slapping the desk. Youre no better you copy too!
Thats not true! Emily finally lost her temper. Tom does his own work! I only help if hes made a mistake. And I helped you, didnt I? What more do you want?!
In a rush, Emily grabbed her bag, shoved past Clare, and stormed out before she started to cry. Her entire class had watched their argument with rapt attention.
Clare didnt chase her but muttered under her breath, All right, Emily, I see how it is. Keep your head down this isnt over
They didnt speak that day, nor the next, nor many after. Clare stopped talking to Emily, and the whole class waited in suspense, wondering what Clares next move would be.
Clare was creative, no question. She could make things difficult for anyone she fell out with. Emily wondered what would happen, but Clare surprised her.
Oh, Emily, are you still sulking? Two weeks youve been like this! Lets make up! Clare grinned so broadly that Emily almost thawed.
Im not sulking, honestly.
Sure Oh, forget it! Tell me about your New Year plans staying home? Going anywhere?
Clare sounded perfectly normal, as if nothing had happened, and Emily relaxed a little. Maybe she had taken things too seriously.
Big mistake.
So when Emily found a strange note in her bag, she didnt suspect Clare for a moment.
Emily, I really like you! Tom.
The handwriting matched her desk mates. She didn’t for a second think someone else had written it.
How was Emily to know that Clare had spent a week helping Mrs Hill, the English teacher, carry essays to the staffroom, hunting for a handwriting double of Toms. She then persuaded a student from another class to write the note.
Thatll teach you, Emily, youre not the only one who can get upset, Clare smiled, slipping the note into Emilys bag while the others distracted her with volleyball practice.
Come on, Emily, hit it harder! her friends called, while Clares friends kept the charade going.
No one gave it away when Emily pulled the note out of her bag.
Whats that, Emily? Goodness! Quiet girl with a secret admirer! Girls, look! Toms fallen for her! Clare snatched the note and waved it about. Time for some tactics!
Give it back, Clare!
Lighten up! Or… youre right, no tactics! TOM! Clare dashed out of the girls changing room, banging on the boys door.
Emily went pale.
Only her diary and her mum knew she liked Tom.
Is it bad, Mum?
Why?
Is it too early?
Is it ever too early for love, darling?
Is this love though?
Not quite. Its called a crush a wonderful feeling. The doorway to love.
How so?
Imagine youre peeking through a door. Theres joy, happiness, pain, maybe even heartbreak on the other side. Love is never simple, Emily, its powerful. It brings all sorts of emotion with it. Without it, lifes dull. Were drawn to find that one person wholl hold our hand and understand us, and its hard to find, even harder to trust once you have. Standing on the threshold is wonderful, though! And you know what?
What?
Ive never felt anything better, except the day you were born.
So you think its good?
Absolutely. If youre sensible with it!
Mum
All right, no lectures. You know what matters. Now, tell me about this boy. Do I know him?
Yes
Emily carried that secret like a delicate vase, afraid to drop it or draw attention to it. But she cherished it all the more.
Now though
Clare worked it out at once the way Emily clutched the note, the anxious glance at the door, wondering when Tom had slipped it in. If Emily hadnt been startled by Clares yelling, shed have realised he hadnt had a chance: hed been playing volleyball alongside her the whole time.
The boys poured out of the changing room, sniggering at Clare waving the note, while Emily shrank, pale and mortified.
Whats going on here? Miss Martin appeared as if from nowhere. Everyone fell silent, knowing from experience she had a knack for turning up when least wanted.
We’ve got news, Miss Martin! Clare said, giving the note a mock kiss and holding it aloft. Toms written Emily a love note!
What is this nonsense? Miss Martins eyes narrowed. Whats that youve got?
A note Tom gave Emily says he likes her!
Laughter was about to break out, but Miss Martin stopped it dead.
Quiet now. Emily?
Suddenly, Emily remembered that September assembly, Miss Martins steady gaze, and her gentle, encouraging words.
Youve nothing to fear. I know you. You can do this.
Without quite knowing why, Emily moved from the wall, stood up straight and went to stand by her teacher, who was looking at her just as her mum did with concern and care.
Clare took my note. I didnt want anyone to see it.
I see. Tom? Miss Martin turned to the boys and then, something unexpected happened.
Yes! I wrote it, Tom announced.
He pushed through the grinning boys, took the note off Clare, and handed it back to Emily.
Its not right to read someone elses letters, Clare.
Youre lying! Clare shrieked, finally realising her trick hadnt worked.
No one was going to mock, no one would taunt Emily, and she would still walk the corridors with her head high but not out of fear anymore.
No, something inside had shifted. Emilys chin lifted, not in defiance, but because that tingly feeling between her shoulders was a kind of happiness. Wings almost ridiculous, she thought, people dont have wings!
Why, then, did she feel she could take flight, soar above the battered parquet of the school corridors, and let go of her worries?
Clare? Miss Martin frowned.
I was just joking! Hes lying, lying Clare was close to tears.
Give it here, Tom took the note, folded it, and pressed it into Emilys hand. Its for you. Dont let anyone else read my letters, deal? Miss Martin, are we doing an essay today? Mrs Hill promised, but I havent prepared!
Well done for your honesty! Yes, but Ill set a different topic one thats more relevant now. Off to class bells gone ages ago and youre all still dawdling. Move on!
Year 7 burst into action, ignoring red-faced Clare, while Emily and Tom shared shy smiles, and Emily clenched that little white note in her fist.
She would paste that note into her diary, keeping it safe until the day, years later, when she handed the old notebook to Tom on their wedding day.
Here you are, husband.
Whats this, wife?
Our beginning
And you trust me enough to read all this?
You know it all already.
Not everything.
Whats left to know? Emily would snuggle close, ignoring the cheers and calls for a kiss from their guests.
Do you remember telling me about a crush about the door and the threshold?
Yes!
Did you ever step through that door?
Emilys eyes would light up, and her whisper would reach Toms ears even over the laughter and music.
Oh yes. And I closed it behind me. Im not just in love with you anymore.
What do you mean? Tom would look at her, confused.
I mean I love you, silly.
Now I understand. More?
More!The music rose around them, but Emily heard only Toms quiet, steady heartbeat as she rested her head against his chest. The hands theyd once used to pass homework behind a teachers back were now clasped together grown, unshakable, soft and strong.
She glanced down at her diary, battered and ribbon-tied, all those years pressed between creased pages: sketches black as coal and hopeful lines, heartbreaks and tiny joys, Nans wry advice, Mums endless love. She smiled, feeling the echo of old fearsand marveled at how theyd faded, replaced by something brighter than hope.
Tom slipped his arm gently around her, and through the swirl of their friends and family, she caught a glimpse: Clare beaming in the crowd, a little older but still mischievous, flashing a thumbs-up. Miss Martin, hair streaked with silver now, dabbed her eyes at the back row. Nan was gone, but Emily could almost hear her chuckling, Well now, theres a happy ending for you! Her mum blew Emily a kiss across the room.
As twilight spilled through the halls windows, Emily squeezed Toms hand and reached for the memory of that trembling little girl with her blackened sketchbookthe one who thought shed have to hide her worries forever. Instead, shed opened her heart and found the world could be kind, and a little bit magical. She was glad, so glad, shed learned to trusther mum, her Nan, her teachers, her friends, and most of all, herself.
Weve come a long way, havent we? Tom whispered.
Yes, Emily laughed softly, tears glimmering in her eyes, and I think, this time, Ill remember my lines.
They leaned into their first married danceclumsy, happy, unafraidand as the world blurred softly around her, Emily knew this: beginnings and endings were only pages, and together, they could write anything.
