My Imaginary Friend
You wouldn’t believe it, but for the past three days, theres been a proper crowd of kids buzzing round Hannah. Words gone round the school that shes some sort of oracle, a real mind-reader. Everyones desperate for a bit of her wisdom, so they wait for her by the loos or squeeze onto her table in the canteen, bringing her chocolate bars, their homework books and all sorts of other giftswhich, weirdly, she never seems to accept.
I fancy Ben in 5B. Do you think well end up getting married? sighed her classmate, Sophie, eyes sparkling with hope.
I wouldnt, love, said Hannah, munching on a crumpet and sipping her tea. Bens all charm when youre looking, but he picks his nose and eats it when he thinks nobodys watching. Youll never go hungry, I suppose, but thats as good as it gets. Hell just pick his way through life like that.”
Sophie screwed her face up in disgust. Urgh, thats vile! Well, what about Tom? Hes clever and taking guitar lessons, she added, drifting back into daydreams.
That one? Tom torments the local cats, ties an empty tuna tin to their tails and chases them round the neighbourhood. Hell turn out to be a real brute, and I guarantee hell end up on the booze.
Sophie frowned, Why do you say that?
Well, have you ever met a sober guitarist? Anyway, youre too young to bother with all this. Theres no rushboys arent going anywhere. Better off fixing up your maths and stop biting your nails, or youll end up with worms, Hannah replied.
Next in the queue was Sam from year four, who shoved Sophie aside so hard she slid to the end of the bench. No ones my mate. Everyone calls me fat and never invites me anywhere, he moaned.
Well, sign-ups for wrestling club start on Wednesday. Pop your name down at PE. You might not lose weight but theyll stop calling you names. And dont be so rough with your future wife, Hannah told him.
Hannah got up to take her tray to be washed up when Miss Green, the geography teacher, sidled up to her by the sink, doing her best to sound casual. Hannah, do you think I should start driving lessons this year or wait till next?
Miss Green, to learn to drive you need a car, not your dads knackered old Fiesta. See the difference?
R-right, yes, I think so
Rolling her eyes, Hannah continued, Sell the poor thing and use the money to buy a bike and some shortsyoull get a lift to work in two months anyway. Actually, youd be better off just looking for a place of your own, mortgage rates are quite reasonable right now, and at thirty-five, living with your folks isnt ideal. Take it from an expert, she said, sounding all grown up.
Leaving everyone staring after her, Hannah marched off to her next lessonDesign and Technology.
While the others learnt how to use the tailors ruler and thread the sewing machine, Hannah mended her dads trousers, took in her own skirt, and crocheted a pair of socks, which she presented to her D&T teacher, remarking that pregnant women really ought to keep their feet warm. The teacher excused herself straight away and dashed off to the chemist. The very next day, the whole class got treated to a delicious chocolate cake in Hannahs honour.
At home, Hannah was acting even stranger. She scolded her mum for buying ready-made mince and insisted on making proper dumplings from scratch. Instead of watching YouTube in the evening, she settled in with The Three Musketeers and kept having little whispered conversations with someone. Her dad peered over the top of his laptop, and Hannah gave him a look. Sit up straight, Dad. And quit surfing those rubbish sitesgo and beat the rug or something useful for a change, she told him.
All sorts of rumours flew round school, and the teachers got quite worked up. They finally called in the school counsellor and arranged a meeting, bringing together the whole staff, including the head.
Hannah, darling, is anyone at school bothering you? asked the counsellor, a fashionable man with a beard and specs.
Im bothered by the fact that the school got a grant for a few million, but the only thing we got in the gym is an ancient pommel horse and a two-metre skipping rope, replied Hannah, deadpan.
The head immediately slipped out to another meetingthrough the open window.
Dont you have any friends, Hannah?
Friendship is a pretty abstract thing, she replied, bored, fiddling with her plaits. Today you might be playing tag with someone at break, next thing you know, shes in your kitchen doing the washing up while youre filling in tax returns.
Waittax returns? Washing up? Who put all this in your head?
My friend,” said Hannah.
Well, thats it! Can you bring her in to see us?
Shes already here, replied Hannah, as calmly as you like, leaving everyone a bit stunned.
We cant see her. Whats her name?
Margaret Smith.
How old is she?
Seventy.
What else does she tell you?
She says you should always brush your teeth from the gum up, the dog in my street isnt mean, just scared and hungry, and you mustnt forget your relatives. And, she said your council taxs been wrong for the past five yearsyou should go to the council and get it recalculated at market rate, not the outdated one.
The counsellor scribbled everything down, double underlining that last bit.
They rang Hannahs parents straight away, while they were at work.
Hang on! her dad yelled down the phone, That was my mums name! She died ten years ago.
There were gasps and quiet prayers in the staff room.
Exactly. Ten years have passed and nobodys even visited. Theres grass everywhere, the railings are falling over, Hannah muttered, sounding almost hurt.
I know, I know… There never seems to be time, her dad mumbled back.
And that was the end of the session.
The next day, the whole family went to the cemetery. Hannah had never met her grandma, only heard snippets about her from her dad. The grave was hard to findthe place had become a marble sea, where there used to be a pine forest.
Hannah laid yellow tulips in a cut plastic bottle. Her dad straightened the railings, her mum tidied up the grass.
Dad, Grandma says youre a good man, but youre tangled up in your job and the internet. Thats why you never have time for anythingeven for me, she said.
Her dad blushed and nodded wordlessly.
Tell her well do better, he said, stroking Hannahs hair, and then the faded photo on the grave.
Shes at peace now and wont come to visit me againthough Ill miss her. She was so kind, clever, and funny.
Spot on,” her dad replied. “She saw right through people. Does she say anything else?
Yup. She says your cucumber diet is nonsense. If you want to lose weight, get yourself to the gym. And opening a foreign currency account was daftshouldve crunched the numbers first. Oh, and about that cheap concrete you ordered for the shed foundation……That builder isnt reliablehell forget to put in the rebar. Fix it yourself or youll have a crooked shed by Christmas.
Her dad let out a breathless laugh, wiping something from the corner of his eye. Typical Mum, he said softly. Still giving orders.
The family stood together in quiet, sun-dappled silence. Even the breeze seemed to pause, listening. Hannah tilted her head, as if catching one last bit of advice on the wind.
I think she wants us to have Sunday dinner together, every week from now onwith dumplings, and crumpets, and chocolate cake. No excuses.
Deal, her dad said, and put his arm round Hannahs shoulders.
Hand in hand, they left the cemetery lighter than when they came. That night, back at home, Hannah finished her tea, set her book aside, and pausedlistening. But the house, for the first time in days, was perfectly quiet.
She smiled, feeling the warmth of a hundred silent memories settling around her, and knew she was never truly alone. And from then on, whenever anyone at school asked Hannah for the answers to lifes biggest questions, shed just shrug and say, Some things you work out best togetherwith real friends (and a little help from the past).
And sometimes, if you looked very carefully, you could see her glancing over her shoulder, as though a wonderful old lady was still sitting just out of sight, forever watching over her, kind and clever as ever.
