A Little Prank
“Emily! Em, let me copy your work!”
Laura’s whisper echoed loudly across the classroom just as Mrs. Fielding looked up from the register she was filling out.
“Laura Turner! Settle down and do your own work!”
“But Mrs. Fielding, it’s so difficult!” Laura replied, never one to let a conversation slip by.
“Who ever said it was meant to be easy? Besides, Emily has a different worksheet than you do. Youre wasting your breath!”
“What? But she’s right at the front!”
“I know,” Mrs. Fielding grinned, teasingly mimicking Laura’s whiny tone. “Ive given Emily her own task.”
“Oh, that’s not fair!” Laura sulked, burying her head in her exercise book, before eyeing the room for another saviour.
Not a soul noticed Emily shrinking into herself, frozen at her desk, too nervous to even lift her eyes from her page.
Every teacher knew Emily was the classs little magic wandthe clever girl everyone borrowed answers from. Try denying them once, and youd be on the out with half the class.
Emily never refused, not reallyshe found ways to help without catching the teachers eyes, all as her mum advised.
“Em, I know youre a kind girl,” her mum had told her, “but you need to look after yourself, too. If you want to get into the school youve set your heart on, you need a good set of grades. Dont risk it for the sake of those who cant be bothered to learn the basics.”
Her mums advice was right, of coursebut Emily just sighed whenever she heard it. If her mum only knew what it was like to be top of the class among classmates who barely cared at all.
Her mum had moved her to this school after divorcing Emilys dad. There were many reasons for that, not least of which was her little brother, growing up in Dad’s new family. Hed appeared while Emilys parents were still together, but no one explained a thing. The adults handled their businessthe six-year-old Emily would vanish to her room, filling sheet after sheet with hard, black crayon. She coloured each one solidly, refusing even a shred of white to show through.
Her grandmother, Dads mum, was the first to notice what was happening.
“What on earth have you let happen? Look what youve done to the child!”
She was supposed to take her sons side, but, oddly enough, supported Emilys mum instead.
“Just like his father,” she muttered. “Phil was wandering right from the word go. But at least he always came backand never with another child in tow.”
“And you forgave him?”
“What choice did I have, love? I cared for him. And he cared for me, in his own waythats why he returned. Hard? More than youll ever know. I dont suppose I ever really forgave him, not properly. I just endured it. Looking back, I wonder why I bothered. But, strangely enough, maybe its for the best that your husband settled down elsewhere. I see what youre like, Rachel. Youd have taken him back too, wouldnt you?”
“I dont know. I justit hurts…”
“I know. But Emily is stuck in the middle. She doesnt deserve this. My son wont listenbut you always were a clever woman. Im sorry its come to this, Rachel. Just please, make sure Emily isnt left suffering. Its not her fault.”
Rachel did what nobody expectedshe sat Emily down and explained the truth as simply as possible.
“Emily, Dad and I arent going to live together anymore.”
“Why?”
“Were separating. From now on, itll be just you and me at home. Youll still see Dad on weekends, or whenever hes free. Dont cry now, darling. Look at me! Dad will always be your dad. Hes not going anywhere, I promise.”
“And you?”
“Im not going anywhere, either.”
“Good. Please don’t”
Only then did Rachel realise what her daughter had feared most during those long and silent hours spent colouring her paper black.
It took time and care, but Rachel managed to explain things and help Emily loosen her anxieties. Emily still saw her dadmaybe not as often as shed have liked, but enough that she knew it was her mum hed left, not her. Dad spoiled her now and then and got along with Rachel well enough to put Emily first. She even spent some of her holidays with his new family, playing with her little half-brother and getting on surprisingly well with Dads new wife, Susan, who was friendly and kind. There was no need for rivalry there.
Yet, all the same, the past left its mark on Emily. She often wondered if perhaps her dad had left because she was missing something. After all, he seemed content with Susan and their little boywhy hadnt he wanted to stay and raise her? Was there something about her her dad didnt like?
Of course, Gran and Mum always insisted they loved her dearly and none of it was her fault. But the little worm of doubt kept wriggling in her chest, ready to emerge whenever she needed her confidence the most.
At first, it didn’t show. So what if her knees trembled presenting that poem at the first school assembly? For a week, shed practised with her mum, reciting in front of the mirror full of expression, certain she knew it backwards and could deliver it perfectly. Shed played lead roles in nursery school performances, trusted because everyone knew she’d nail them.
But this time, when she was handed the microphone and spotted her family in the crowd, the words vanished. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she couldnt say a line.
The deputy head, seeing her panic, knelt beside her, swept the tears from her face gently, and whispered:
“You’ll tell it to me later instead?”
Emily nodded, not trusting her voice.
Mrs. Fielding didnt forget about it. After lessons she found Emily outside the school gates.
“There you are! You going to tell me your poem? I was really looking forward to it.”
It might seem smallan unspoken poembut to Emily it meant everything. She straightened, let go of her mums hand, and recited her poem, word-perfect. The grown-ups nearby applauded.
“See? Well done! I told you you could do it!”
“ButI couldn’t do it earlier” Emilys eyes brimmed again.
“Of course you did! Look, we’re all here, aren’t we? We heard it! Honestly, I’m not fussed about when as long as you did. You did brilliantly. That’s a teacher’s word for you!”
“I think I see”
Emily never forgot that moment. When, later, Mrs. Fielding became her form tutor, Emily was secretly pleasedshe knew Mrs. Fielding was safe. Someone who would look out for her and never let her down.
Mrs. Fielding did keep an eye on her.
“Youve a very sensitive girl,” shed say to Rachel. “So bright, but delicate. Shes talented at Maths, did you knowmaybe you should consider a school more focused on it? She needs to be among other kids who care. Its a good school here, but average, you know? Most children aren’t that bothered. Emily finds that hardshe hates drawing attention to herself, but by blending in, she’s hiding her talents, and itll smother her if we arent careful.”
Rachel understood, but there wasnt much she could do. The right school was across another part of the city and nobody could take Emily there every day. Rachels ex was about to have another child, her own mum was poorly, and Rachel herself worked two jobs, renting a tiny flat after the divorce.
“Stick it out for a bit, love. Once I’ve sorted a few things, well work out something better, I promise,” shed say, hugging Emily on the sofa after a long day.
“Dont worry, Mum. Ill manage”
“Hows school?”
“Its alright!” Emily tried to sound cheerful, although she knew things werent really.
“Alright isnt a grade,” her mum would joke, tickling her until Emily laughed and the truth tumbled out.
No one openly picked on Emily in class. But shed hear whispers:
“Here she goes again, showing off in history. No point any of us hoping for an A after an answer like that! She couldve just acted normal for once.”
Nobody said this to Emilys faceuntil one day when things changed.
“Em! Ten minutes! Im going to fail without your help,” Laura hissed, forcing Emily to slide her rough notes across.
Mrs. Fielding, distracted by a message, missed Lauras arm reach for the paper.
James, her desk-mate since junior school, nudged his own book closer so Emily could see Laura’s worksheet properly.
“Thanks,” Emily whispered, pointing out the mistake.
That was allno fuss. A few numbers, a slight nod, and James quickly corrected his work.
Laura got the answers, and the lesson passed in silence.
But as soon as the bell went, chaos broke loose.
“Are you serious?! Sitting there useless while Im in a panic at the end of term! Some friend you are, Em!” Laura fumed, rapping her knuckles on Emilys desk.
“Youre being unfair,” Emily replied, trying to keep her cool while indignation bubbled inside. Why did she always owe everyone something?
That ‘why on earth’that was her gran talking, as Gran always replaced any harsher language with that catch-all phrase.
“Youre a young lady,” Gran would say. “Not some market porter. Mind your tongue!”
“But you swear, GranIve heard you!”
“Well, Im past my prime, love! Im allowed the odd slip. Youre not! Not ladylike, see? At my age, you can brush it off as colourful and charming; at yours, its just common as muck.”
“But the boys swear!”
“Its different! And remember: whats acceptable for a man isnt always for you, unfair as that is. Trust mea girl wants to keep her air of mystery! Swearing ruins that magic. You want to be someones best mate or someone’s sweetheart?”
“Why not both?”
“Because the lads dont marry their mates! Theyll hang around, but theyll ask someone else to be their wife. Take it from me, love.”
“Maybe Did this happen with Mum and Dad?”
“Sort of. Best ask them. But believe mea touch of mystery, like your favourite poem, isnt a myth. Men need that from a woman. Swearing and spittingleave that for the lads.”
“And what do I give instead?”
“Better ask your mum before I say too much!”
“You remembered youre a lady, Gran?” Emily cackled.
“Once in a while I do, yes!”
Right now, Emily wanted to let rip, like Laura and her mates did, but something told her that wouldnt solve anything.
“Give over, Laura!” James grumbled, shoving his physics book in his bag. “You cant expect everyone to do life for you!”
“But friends are supposed to help!” Laura banged the desk again, scowling. “And youre no better, Jamesyou copy too!”
“Thats rubbish!” Emily blurted out. “James does his own work. I only help if it goes wrong. And Ive helped you today, havent I? So whats your problem?!”
Snatching up her bag, Emily barged past Laura and dashed out, desperate not to cry in front of them all while everyone eyed up the row.
Laura didnt follow, but muttered just loud enough for Emily to hear: “I see how it is, Smith. Dont worry, youll regret it. Bit of humility wouldnt hurt!”
They didnt speak the rest of that day. Nor the next. Nor even the week after.
Laura stopped talking to Emily altogether, and everyone waited, wondering what revenge Laura might be brewing for her once-friend.
Laura had a real knack for making life uncomfortable for anyone who got on the wrong side of her. Emily could only imagine what might happen, but Laura surprised her.
“Em, stop sulking! We havent talked in weeks. Can we make up?” Laura smiled so brightly that Emily nearly relented.
“Im not sulking.”
“Of course youre not! Lets forget about it. Tell me, what are you doing for New Years? Family Christmas or off somewhere?”
Nothing in Lauras voice hinted at a grudge, so Emily relaxed. Maybe shed overreacted.
Big mistake.
When Emily found an odd note in her rucksack, she didnt connect it to Laura at all.
“Emily, I really like you. James”
The writing was just like James, her old desk-mate, so it never even crossed her mind that someone else wrote it.
How was Emily to know that Laura had spent almost a week helping Mrs. Graham, the English teacher, cart essays to the staffroomand along the way found someone with handwriting just like Jamess. Laura had recruited backups from the next class to help her get that note written and slipped it into Emilys bag.
“Thatll show you, Miss Perfect. Why should I be the only one upset?” Laura smirked as she tucked the note into Emily’s bag.
In the changing room beside the gym, no one else was about. Emily busied herself practising volleyball serves, while Lauras friends kept her distracted.
“Come on, Em, hit it harder! You can do better, cant you?”
So no one batted an eyelid when Emily found the note.
“Whats that? Spotted a secret, have we? Girls, look! James is into Emily!” Laura snatched up the note, waving it round the changing room. “Better come up with a plan!”
“Let me have it back, Laura!”
“Oh, dont be so serious!” Laura scoffed. “No, youre rightno plan necessary! James! Oi, James!”
Laura darted out and began rapping on the boys changing room door.
Emily went pale.
The only one who knew how much Emily liked James was her diaryand maybe her mum.
“Is that bad, Mum?”
“Why?”
“Its too soon, isnt it?”
“No one decides when love arrives, Em.”
“Are you sure I love him?”
“Not yet, probably. Feels different, doesnt it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Its called a crush. A taste of lovethe doorway to it, if you like.”
“You mean, the beginning?”
“Exactly. Imagine peeking round the door. Inside, love has it alljoy, sadness, even anger sometimes.”
“Why anger?”
“Because love stirs every emotion, Em. Its a powerful thing. But we need it. From the day were born, were searching for someone to hold our hand, to stick with us. Finding that person is hard. Trusting themharder. Opening the door and walking in, that’s a big thing, but even just standing on the threshold is wonderful. The hope of love is magical, too. And you know what?”
“What?”
“Its the best feeling in the worldexcept the day I had you.”
“So you meanit’s a good thing?”
“Of course it is, if youre careful.”
“Mum”
“Alright, Ill stop. Ive said enough and I trust you. So tell me about this boy. Do I know him?”
“Yeah”
Emily held her secret carefully, like a delicate vase. Happy to have it, but terrified of dropping itnot daring to let slip with a glance or a word.
Too bad.
Laura could spot the truth in the way Emily folded the note away, the quick look she shot to the changing room door, wondering when James could possibly have slipped the note inside when hed been in the volleyball game alongside her, on her team.
Within moments, the boys spilled into the corridor, howling with laughter as Laura pranced around waving the note, with Emily, pale as a ghost, backed into a corner.
“Whats all this?” Mrs. Fielding had appeared from nowhere, and the class fell into silence. They knew well her knack for popping up at the worst possible timeand that she wouldnt hesitate to serve a lesson in behaviour if the mood took her.
“Mrs. Fielding, weve got big news!” Laura smirked, held the note to her lips, mwah! and waved it in the air. “Lovebirds alert! Its all here in writing!”
“Laura, what utter nonsense. What have you got there?”
“A note! James wrote it to Emilysays he likes her!”
A snigger started but was squashed instantly by Mrs. Fieldings icy glance.
“Quiet!” She turned to Emily. “Emily?”
And right then, Emily remembered that day in September, her first year, swallowing sobs on assembly. The steady encouragement from Mrs. Fielding as she asked her to try again.
“Youve got nothing to fear! I know you can do it.”
And, somehow, Emily found herself stepping forward, feeling Mrs. Fielding looking at her the same way her mum didconcerned but always kind.
“Laura took my note. I didnt want anyone to see it.”
“I understand, Emily. James?” Mrs. Fielding glanced at the boys. Then, the impossible.
“Yeah. I wrote it.”
James shrugged past his jeering mates and marched over. He plucked the note from Lauras hand.
“Its rude to read other peoples letters, Laura.”
“You liar!” Laura screeched, realising her prank had failed.
No one was going to laugh, no one would mock Emily. No campaign, no bullying. Emily would keep her dignity.
Laura couldn’t know that Emily held her head high not out of pride but out of fearout of hope she wouldnt be judged, not for a mistake, not again.
But something shifted at that moment. Emilys chin rose higher, not from anxiety, but something warm and light inside her. Not wingsdont be daftbut it felt like she could lift off and forget her worries for just a moment.
“Laura?” Mrs. Fielding frowned.
“What? I was only jokinghes lying!” Laura protested, on the verge of tears.
“Leave it,” James said, folding the note and gently pressing it into Emilys hand. “Its for you. Next time, dont show anyone unless you want to, alright? Mrs. Fielding, are we still doing that essay today? Ms. Graham said we had to. I havent prepared.”
“Honest to a fault! Maybe well set you a slightly different themeabout todays little drama. Now get a move on, lesson started ages ago and youre all still faffing about. Chop-chop!”
As the class surged into the corridor, Laura, red with anger, barely drew a glance. Emily and James exchanged bashful grins, and tucked safely in Emilys fist was one little white note.
That evening, she glued it into her diary. Years later, shed keep it for Jamesher soon-to-be husband.
“Go on, then, Mrs. Smith!”
“Whats this?”
“Our story how it began.”
“And you trust me that muchto read everything you’ve written here?”
“You know most of it already!”
“Not quite everything.”
“And what dont you know?” Emily leaned against him, ignoring the cheers of their guests.
“Remember you told me about crushes, about that doorway?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Did you cross that threshold?”
Emilys eyes sparkled. Even across the din, James heard her whisper.
“I did. And I closed the door behind me. Because, James, Im not just taken with you anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I love you. Understand?”
“Now I do. Well, Mrs. Smith, how about a kiss?”
“Best idea youve ever had.”
