Bella stood a little apart from the other children. She wasn’t being unfriendly. If approached, she would have chatted with anyone, but she was shy and unable to join in the easy-going banter of the other children.
The bus appeared and young faces lined the windows, staring down at the waiting children. Bella was nervous. The bus doors swept open and Christine Dayton elbowed her way on first. Then the other children climbed aboard with Bella bringing up the rear.
Jayne waved cheerily but Bella didn’t see her. She was on the bus and searching for an empty seat. She found one, sat down, and stared out of the window as the bus drew away.
“Hope Fatty isn’t in our class,” she heard Christine hiss from the seat behind her.
When they arrived, waiting teachers consulted lists and each student was sent to his or her classroom. Bella and Christine found themselves in the same one.
High School was very different from the village school where she’d been surrounded by children she’d known for years. Here, nearly every face was strange, and where there were never more than sixteen children in a class at Sixpenny Cross, now there were thirty-two. Each time the bell rang, Bella had to change classrooms and found herself amongst more new hostile faces in the corridors.
Unlike Bella, Christine Dayton was quite enjoying High School. It didn’t take her long to form a gang, and appoint herself as the leader. Now, when she hurled spite at Bella, her gang was there to applaud her.
“It’s Fat Belly Bella!” Christine would crow. “What did you have for breakfast today, an elephant?”
She snorted with laughter and her friends followed suit.
Bella pretended not to hear, and chose a desk as far away from her taunters as possible. She laid out her books and began to study, switching off the conversation around her.
“Fat Belly Bella, will you be goalkeeper when we play hockey this afternoon? No balls would get past you!”
“Hey, Fat Belly, wouldn’t like to be near you if you ever explode…”
The bullying was relentless. Every day there were new insults. A few class-mates tried to put a stop to it, but they were only half-hearted attempts. The truth was that while Bella was the target, the focus was off them. Nobody told the teachers, and they were too busy and overworked to notice.
Physical Education lessons were the worst. Bella had to wear terrible grey shorts and short-sleeved white blouses that accentuated her dimpled flesh, providing additional opportunities for Christine and her gang to torment her. And if ever Bella was in trouble, you could be sure Christine was behind it.
Bella never breathed a word of her troubles to her parents.
“The thing is,” she confided to Hattie, her cat, “that if I tell Mum and Dad, it’ll really upset them. And if I tell the teachers, I think Christine and her gang will get worse. So I’ve decided to put up with the bullying and just ignore it if I can.”
Hattie purred and rolled onto her back to have her tummy rubbed, all four paws blissfully paddling the air.
Meanwhile, Christine had one aim in her rotten life, and that was to make Bella’s life as miserable as possible.
7
“How was school today?” asked June, ladling out a generous helping of pasta onto Bella’s plate.
“Good,” Bella replied. “We’re doing equations in maths, and learning about onomatopoeia in English.”
“Oh my!” said June, profoundly impressed and immensely proud of her daughter.
“We’re so pleased that you like your new school,” said her father, his mouth full of pasta. “But don’t you work too hard, la mia bella Bella.”
Bella smiled at him.
But Bella wasn’t the only one keeping a secret. After dinner, when she went up to her bedroom to study, Donald closed the kitchen door and quietened his voice.
“I don’t want Bella to hear this. I don’t want to worry her.”
June sighed. She knew what was coming.
“I’m so sorry, June, but I think we’ll need to raid the Italy fund again.”
June nodded, resigned.
“For the tax, you mean?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry.”
Donald worked as a mechanic but because he was self-employed, he had to file his own tax returns. He’d got himself into a mess this year, and ended up owing the Inland Revenue a large sum of money.
“Of course,” said June. “Don’t worry, I know we’ll get there someday. Italy and my grandmother’s village will always be there, waiting for us. When the time is right, we’ll go.”
When Bella walked into the classroom, she was always prepared to close her ears, duck her head, and quietly make her way to her desk. But today was different. Today she didn’t need to. Today Christine Dayton and her gang had found another victim to torment.
“Who set your head on fire?”
Bella quietly sat down, then dared to look up through long lashes.
An unfamiliar boy was standing at the front of the class. His skin was extremely fair, with a generous sprinkling of freckles scattered across his nose. He was very thin, and his shock of red hair stood on end. Bella couldn’t help smiling to herself, thinking that he resembled a lit match.
The object of Christine’s bullying had flushed a vivid scarlet. Later, Bella would learn that it wasn’t fear or embarrassment that caused him to change colour, it was anger.
Their teacher marched in and put her heavy bag down on the desk. The class fell silent.
“Good morning, class. Today we welcome a new boy into our midst. This is Ryan Jenkins. Now, do we have a spare desk anywhere for Ryan?”
“Next to Bella Tait!” Christine shouted, and sniggered.
From anyone else, this may have sounded like a helpful suggestion, but Christine made it sound hostile and unwelcoming.
The teacher ignored Christine and smiled at Bella.
“Is it okay if Ryan sits next to you, Bella?”
Bella nodded, and Ryan picked his way between the desks and sat down.
The teacher began to call out the names in the register and Ryan and Bella stole shy glances at each other. Pale blue eyes fringed by almost white eyelashes looked into deep brown ones, the lashes thick and dark. Each picked up friendly signals. They smiled at each other and knew that they would be friends.
“Hello Ryan, I’m Bella,” she whispered.
“I know, the teacher said. Nobody calls me Ryan, I’m Red.”
“Hi, Red.”
“Hi, Bella. Are you Italian?”
Bella glowed.
“No, but my great-grandmother was Italian. How did you know?”
“Your name, and your looks.”
Bella smiled, and Red smiled right back.
“We’re doing percentages today, have you done them before?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Good. You can help me.”
“Nessun problema. No problem.”
“Can you speak Italian?”
“No, I just like to pick up odd phrases from different languages, you never know when they may come in useful. You see? That one already did!”
Neither of them noticed Christine watching them, her eyes narrowed, her lips set in a thin line.
Bella and Red sat together whenever they could, happy and relaxed in each other’s company. No longer did Bella dread school.
They were a strange couple. Bella’s plumpness, olive skin and brown eyes contrasted sharply with Red’s bony frame, white skin and pale eyes, all topped with flame-red hair. The pair were teased relentlessly, but they didn’t care. Their friendship made them strong and the taunts bounced off.
“Here come Laurel and Hardy,” Christine would scoff.
Disappointingly, her jibes had little effect. Anger caused her hands to clench into such tight fists that her fingernails pressed crescent shapes into her palms.
Red was an exceptionally bright student. His photographic memory allowed his brain to take a snapshot of whatever he read, permanently capturing information to regurgi
tate later. Bella didn’t find her studies so easy, but she worked hard, and when she struggled, Red helped.
“You’ve put the decimal point in the wrong place, that’s all,” he would say when she’d nearly chewed off the end of her pencil trying to solve a problem.
“Ah, now it works, thanks!”
“Nessun problema.”
Red was a natural achiever, but his heart wasn’t in it. His school results were good but he didn’t enjoy lessons. What Red liked more than anything was working with his hands. It didn’t matter what: woodwork, metalwork or later on, helping Bella’s father install central heating into their cottage.
Bella and Red became inseparable. At weekends, Red sometimes caught the bus from Yewbridge and came to Sixpenny Cross so that he and Bella could study together. They sat at the dining room table, while June brought them drinks and snacks, and Hattie purred on Bella’s lap.
“What does your father do?” Donald asked him one day.
“He’s a scientist,” Red replied. “He lectures at the university.”
“And what do you want to do when you leave school?”
Red sighed.
“That’s the trouble,” he said. “I’m not like Bella who knows she wants to be a vet. My dad wants me to be a scientist, like him, and work in research or become a lecturer. I don’t really want to do either of those things, but I don’t know what I do want.”
“Never mind, you’ve got plenty of time,” said June, bringing in a plate of cake.
Nobody saw Christine Dayton watching through the window. And nobody saw her angrily plucking off the heads of the marigolds in June’s flower beds.
8
It was a beautiful day in March. Christine woke late and, bleary-eyed, she stumbled downstairs. She suddenly remembered it was her birthday.
I’m thirteen today!
She hoped that her dad would visit, but that was hardly likely. He hadn’t bothered to turn up for any other birthdays, and if he did, her mum wouldn’t let him into the house anyway. Chances were he was in prison.
Her sister, Mary, hadn’t remembered either, probably too busy with her baby. In fact Christine wasn’t even sure her mother had remembered. She found her, as usual, sprawled on the couch, a bottle of sherry close by.
“Mum, it’s my birthday, did you get me a present?”
“What do you think I am, made of money? I paid for you to get your ears pierced last month, didn’t I? Gawd knows you been nagging me about it enough.”
Christine rolled her eyes. Her mother’s answer didn’t surprise her.
“Right, I’ll ’elp meself and party on me own then,” she muttered.
She returned to her bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and planned her next moves.
Downstairs, she stole cigarettes from the pack on the table then raided the fridge, slipping two cans of beer into a bag.
“Just going out for a bit,” she called over her shoulder, but expected no response.
The front door slammed behind her and her mood was black as she headed towards the privacy of Sixpenny Woods. Okay, she’d spend her birthday alone. Perhaps she’d climb the Wishing Rock and make a wish. Or maybe carve her initials again into the trunk of a tree. Somehow, gouging living bark with her penknife gave her a sense of satisfaction.
Over the years, the Wishing Rock had lost its battle with the ivy that smothered it. Although the boulder was enormous, it looked like a natural feature, blending in with its surroundings. Unless one knew that it was supposed to possess magical powers to grant wishes, one wouldn’t look at it twice.
Christine carefully set her bag on the ground beneath the stone, then began to climb, her hands grabbing at the ivy and her feet seeking out footholds.
At the top, her head was level with high tree branches. She sat down to rest, swinging her legs. She pulled out a cigarette from her pocket and lit it with the lighter she always carried.
Might as well make a wish while I’m ’ere, she thought, inhaling the smoke. I wish, I wish Bella Tait would find out what it’s like to be really miserable, like me. Why should she ’ave everything? I want her to suffer. I don’t even care if she dies...
The delicious notion of Bella Tait suffering gave her renewed energy. She finished her cigarette and climbed down the stone, eager to drink the beer she had stashed. But the cheerfulness didn’t last. By the time she’d downed the last drops and hurled the cans into the undergrowth, the blackness had returned. Even carving her initials into a tree only lightened her mood momentarily. It didn’t last and her spirits sank to their usual low level. She headed home.
When Christine unlocked the front door, she sensed immediately that something was wrong.
“Mum? Mum? I’m ’ome!”
No reply.
She walked from room to room, but the house was empty. Something caught her eye on the kitchen table. A note.
Sorry Christine im fed up and ive gone away for a bit theres some food in the fridge. make sure you go to scool and Ill see you when I see you. Mum
Christine read the note through three times before she threw it on the table in disgust.
It was the icing on her birthday cake.
Well, she wasn’t going to tell the school or the Social that her mum had gone again. If she needed anything before her mum came back, she’d steal it. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.
But she couldn’t help wondering… How would Bella Tait spend her birthday?
To celebrate Bella’s thirteenth birthday, June baked a cake and prepared a birthday tea with crustless sandwiches, biscotti and fairy cakes. It was a quiet affair, with just five around the table. Bella didn’t want a fuss and apart from Red, and Jayne Fairweather, who was such a good friend that Bella called her ‘Auntie’, no other guests had been invited.
Christine hadn’t been invited, but she was there, nevertheless. Had the Taits or Jayne or Red looked up, they’d have seen her small, angry face at the window. But they didn’t, and savoured June’s delicious cake and enjoyed each other’s company.
In the background, the radio played the English entry for that year’s Eurovision Song Contest, Congratulations, by Cliff Richard.
“Congratulations and happy birthday to you, la mia bella Bella,” said her father smiling. “And here’s to many more birthdays.”
“I made this for you,” said Red, passing Bella a wrapped gift.
“Oh! Whatever is it?”
“Open it and find out,” said Red, smiling.
The white face at the window glared at the cosy scene and rolled its eyes.
Bella tore off the paper and revealed an exquisitely constructed small wooden box. It had been lovingly put together using dovetail joints, and then lacquered to a high sheen. But the eye was drawn to the highly decorated oval brass plaque set into the lid. Bella’s initials were intertwined with green leaves and pink and white flowers. Tiny, intricate, coloured butterflies settled on delicate petals.
Bella gasped.
“BMT! Bella Maria Tait! Oh, Red, I love it! Thank you so much, I’ve never seen anything like that! How did you engrave it so beautifully, and in so many colours?”
“You didn’t make that at school, did you?” asked Jayne, admiring the lovely box and running her fingertips over the glossy surface.
“No, I made it at home. I’ve been tinkering about in my shed,” Red explained, “and I made a sort of tool. It isn’t perfect yet, but it holds different coloured inks and engraves at the same time.”
“That sounds ingenious,” said Donald. “You’re very clever with your hands, Red.”
“I think my box is just beautiful,” said Bella, tracing the letters with one fingertip. “Thank you. I shall always keep my treasures in it.”
At the window, Christine was incandescent with jealousy. She backed away into the night, passing Donald’s car parked in the street.
Christine picked up a rock and scored a deep groove in the paintwork, all the way down one side.
The next year, Red
made an announcement.
“We’re moving,” he told Bella, gloomily.
“Where to?” asked Bella, horrified.
“Scotland. Dad’s got a job at Aberdeen University. He’s really excited about it. Nothing’s going to change his mind. We leave at the end of this school term.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“I can hardly believe it either, but it’s true.”
“It won’t be the same without you.” Her eyes misted.
“Bella, we’ll always be friends, don’t worry.”
Bella nodded miserably.
“I’ll miss you so much, Red.”
“And I’ll miss you. But listen, if ever you are in trouble, I will drop everything and come and help you.”
“I know. Will you write to me?”
“Of course! Nessun problema.”
But it was a problem. Red was her best and only friend. Every moment together was precious but the time spent in each other’s company evaporated like dewdrops in the morning sun.
A small part of Bella’s soul died with Red’s departure. She made no attempt to befriend anyone else, but school without Red was dull. Sighing, she threw herself into her studies and worked tirelessly.
Donald and June were concerned.
“You mustn’t work too hard, Bella,” said her mother, bringing her a plate of chocolate muffins.
“I have to if I’m going to be a vet!” said Bella, chewing.
Christine Dayton left school. Everybody knew she would leave when she turned fifteen, the current legal age, although it would be raised to sixteen in a few years time. In fact, Christine wasn’t yet fifteen when she stopped attending school, but the anti-truancy team and teachers didn’t fight too hard to bring her back.
Christine’s mother eventually returned briefly to the house in Springfield Road. Whether she felt guilty leaving Christine alone in the house or whether she needed to retrieve her welfare benefits was not certain. Rumour had it that she had a new boyfriend in Yewbridge. Soon after, Christine’s mother moved back to Yewbridge, taking Christine with her.
The Sixpenny Cross Collection Page 10
