There was a girl in our schoolan orphan.
She lived with her grandmother, a tiny and deeply pious old lady. Every Sunday, they would pass my house, both frail and delicate, wrapped in immaculate white scarves, heading to the Anglican church down the lane. Rumour had it her grandmother forbade television, sugary treats, and even laughing aloud lest mischief sneak in, and made her wash in freezing water every morning.
We teased the girl. She would gaze at us with grey, ancient eyes and murmur, God, forgive them; they know not what they do. No one befriended hereveryone called her peculiar. Her name was Harriet.
During my childhood, school lunches were dreadful, but Fridays brought jam tarts with tea or sausage rolls with cocoa and a tiny Cadbury chocolate. One fateful day, while mocking Harriet, someone shoved her and she stumbled into me. I struck the dining table, sending my tray of cocoa tumbling onto two sixth formers, creating a swirling river of chocolate across their blazers.
Well, well, said the sixth formers.
Run, I whispered, grabbed Harriets hand, and we dashed to our classroom. In my mind, we were being huntedlike wild west outlaws chased by a posse and a herd of bellowing cattle. The last two lessons were maths. Behind the glass door, two tall figures hovered. Occasionally, the door nudged open and two heads peered in, then conferred in whispers. It was clear: trial, judgement, and punishment awaited us.
We just need to slip out quietly. I know a way to the attic; we can hide there until its dark, then make our escape, I whispered.
No, Harriet replied, Well leave like proper girls. In the daylight. With dignity.
But Harriet, those… wont they
What? Pour a carton of milk over our heads? Shout? Hit two girls in Year Five? Is that it?
Well
If they hurt us, it happens once. But if we hide, well be afraid every day.
We left the classroom with everyone else, as expected of girls: quietly, politely. The two sixth formers were leaning against the wall.
Oy, which of you dropped this? One lad held my Minnie Mouse wallet, with a ten pound note insidethe fee for swim club and art lessons.
Here you are, he placed it in my hand. And try not to run off next time.
I walked home, swinging my satchel, feeling the world was suddenly wonderfuleverything resolved unexpectedly well, and I had a new friend.
Ill ring Mum; shell call your gran and get you permission to come over. We can watch cartoons! Or arent you allowed?
Harriet rolled her eyes. Lets ask gran for her homemade biscuits with condensed milkshe baked them today.
We stayed friends for years, until life scattered us across different continents.
But I always remember that moment.
Jumping from the diving board into the blue mirror of the pool is scary. But scary only once.
Doing something new is frightening: whats the worst that could happen? Someone might call me foolish? Theyll say it only once. Otherwise, Ill repeat it to myself every day.
Its frightening, just onceor every day.
You conquer fear once, or it lives your life for you, every day.
You always have a choice.
