Beauty Sleep

by Kathryn Evans

  “No, I’m good. I promised Madam I’d get them.”

  “What are they?”

  “Scripts. We start rehearsals today for the house play.”

  Marsha groaned. “You are such a suck-up.”

  The whole morning was spent in the drama studio and it galloped by. All the Stacey stuff was in the back of my mind, but rehearsals were very distracting. Also distracting me was Madam Call-Me-By-My-First-Name-Apple (I kid you not, her first name really was Apple) – she had the most astonishing teeth. Not only were they dazzling white, they were pearlized – they actually glistened like snow in sunlight.

  I nudged Marsha. “Her teeth!”

  She whispered, “And she just had her bum implants removed.”

  “Bum implants? Are you serious?”

  “Yep, it’s all about the skinny waist these days.”

  Madam Apple roared, “Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice!”

  We stopped whispering.

  Marsha turned out to be really good at drama. I don’t know why she’d moved from Red House – seemed to me like she’d fit right in with all the drama bods. Maybe there were too many people just like her. Too much competition.

  At lunch my C-plan was waiting next to a bowl of mushed carrot. I forced it down, every last bit, and said, “Right, I’m going to the PE block to ask about running, do you want to come?”

  Marsha and Keisha both looked like I’d offered them a bowl of cold sick but Marsha said, “I suppose I’d better.”

  “You don’t have to, I can find it myself.”

  She sighed and said, “No, I’ll come.”

  The sports hall was tucked behind the main school building. I asked the first teacher I saw. “Hi, I wanted to ask if I could go running?”

  “Great!” The teacher practically bounced. “There’s a club every Friday.”

  “No, I meant on my own – could I just run around the school grounds?”

  She looked at me like I was an alien, then said, “I cannot think of a single reason why not. School grounds only, though. I’ll give you a pass in case anyone asks what you’re doing. Top work, Miss…?”

  “Henley, Madam.”

  “Good, top work, Miss Henley. And you, Marsha? Will you be joining Miss Henley?”

  “I suppose.”

  She scribbled a note for us both that said, Setting an excellent example by running for fitness and fun, permission granted by Madam Hoosier.

  It was almost like I was leading two lives – the one in my head, where I yearned for my lost family and ached over the betrayal of my friend. And the one in the actual world, which was turning out to be a lot easier to deal with.

  I sailed through that afternoon, going from lesson to lesson. The work was hard but the teachers were patient – and so were the other girls. Suki was determined she’d get me to try out for netball though and I knew I wasn’t fit enough, so before she could start nagging me again I got in my PE kit and slipped out for a run.

  I knew Marsha didn’t want to come, not really, and I didn’t want to be a burden, so I went on my own. I got about fifty yards before I could barely breathe and my legs were a pair of rubbery blobs underneath me.

  I sat on the grass for a bit, muscles quivering, and then I lay back and laughed. It might have turned my legs to jelly but running filled the rest of me with joy. I struggled back up, and took a slower pace towards the sea, leaving the beautiful ice-cream school behind. I wished I had a Walkman so I could listen to some music and then realized I could do what every other kid did in this decade if I got an earpiece for my phone. Maybe Miss Lilly would get me one? Maybe I could work for her in the holidays, earn a few quid of my own? I crossed to the hedge line that made up the eastern boundary of the school field and froze. A small brown dog had come racing out of the bushes towards me. I’d been bitten by a dog when I was younger and was always a bit scared, a bit wary. Especially when they were yapping and scruffy and actually, not brown, just really muddy.

  “Go away. Shoo. Get away.”

  It ran round my feet, yap-yap-yapping. I pulled my hands into my chest and stood as tall as I could while peering over my shoulder to see if anyone was near enough to help.

  The dog bounced down on its front paws and I was sure it was going to attack me.

  “Away. Go on, away.”

  I walked slowly backwards but it followed me, like it was rounding me up.

  “Go away!” I yelled again, throwing my arms out wide, trying to make myself look as big as I could and then I got scared that it would leap up and bite my hands, so I tucked them back in. I was heading for a full-blown freak-out when the dog rolled on its back, throwing its stubby little legs in the air. It wiggled around, tongue lolling out of its mouth, and it seemed ridiculous to be afraid of it.

  “You silly thing,” I said.

  It rolled all the way over and back again, wagging its stumpy tail so hard its entire body moved from side to side.

  I took a tentative step towards it and it rolled to its feet. I waited to see what it would do next and then heard a whispered hiss from the hedge. I couldn’t make it out but it sounded like a person. I stopped dead.

  Journalist.

  But why would a journalist be out with a scruffy little dog. Was that a thing they did? Distract you with a furry twit?

  I straightened up slowly and stepped away. The dog followed me. I sped up and so did the dog. Well, so be it. If whoever it was lost their dog, it wasn’t my fault, was it? I turned and ran back up the field with the dog yapping enthusiastically after me.

  The voice from the hedge called, “Come back here, you totally useless fur-faced git.”

  I ran on. The hedge rustled behind me but the dog still followed and the voice yelled, “Scrag! Come back here, you faithless little mutt!”

  He didn’t sound like a journalist. I turned back to look. It was a skinny, filthy, completely bedraggled…boy. Man? No. Boy. On his knees and glaring at me. I stopped running and stared.

  A quiet space in a hedge. It wasn’t much to ask, was it? But no, I couldn’t even have that without some posh kid sticking her nose in.

  Didn’t I have enough to deal with? The rain had soaked through my bag and turned all the bready stuff to mush. I had a couple of yogurts and a bit of cheese and that was it. And then, then, like the universe was having a right old laugh at my expense, some rich girl tried to steal my dog.

  I was boiling with anger as she looked down her nose at me, Scrag dancing about like he’d made a brand-new friend.

  I was sick of it. Just so sick of everything. Why couldn’t something go my way for once?

  He stared back at me. “What? You never seen a dog before?”

  He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who. It was something about the defiant way he pursed his lips. Maybe it was Stacey. Or Marsha. He had that worried look that he was in trouble but was going to front it out whatever.

  “Come on, Scrag,” he called, and turned towards the hedge.

  “Do you live in the bush?”

  I don’t know why I was talking to him. It was a stupid thing to do. I was out on my own, talking to a boy who was clearly a weirdo. Even if he was a weirdo with a cute dog.

  He threw a look at me over his shoulder. “No. I don’t live in the bush, but if I did, it’d be none of your business, would it?”

  “It would if it was that bush. This is my school.”

  He scowled at me and I can’t say I blamed him. Who did I think I was? I’d only been at Whitman’s five minutes and I wouldn’t have been there at all if Miss Lilly hadn’t taken me under her wing.

  “Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say.” I didn’t want to let him go. I honestly don’t know why. He was filthy dirty and when the wind stopped battering us with sea air for a second, a smell of unwashed clothes and greasy hair wafted from him. Still, something anchored me to the spot. Maybe it was because he thought I was something I wasn’t and I wanted to prove him wrong. “Are you hungry?”

&nbs
p; His jaw worked like he was chewing on something. He looked at his dirty dog and then back at me. “Why? You inviting me in for dinner?”

  I felt stupid. Like I was playing a game and had been caught out. “I could bring you something later?” Could I? I still wasn’t eating properly, people would think it a bit odd if I helped myself to…well…anything that wasn’t baby mush. “I could try,” I finished feebly.

  “Well,” he said, “my dog would love a steak and I’d really like a giant pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni. Can I reserve a table for seven? By the window?”

  He walked off. As he battled his way back into the bush, I said, “I’ll try to come back later, about half nine?”

  What was I doing?

  Maybe I felt sorry for him. Maybe I just felt like I owed the universe something for giving me Miss Lilly. What would have happened to me without her? Or maybe I just couldn’t help sticking my nose in, even when it clearly wasn’t wanted.

  I walked back to the school building, wondering how I was going to sneak food out and feeling absolutely knackered, but completely…alive. Benjie and Miss Lilly had been right: I had needed to get out, to live a bit for myself. I tugged my ponytail tighter and headed back to my room.

  On my bed was a tiny box with a note.

  Dear weirdo, if you must run, at least listen to something cool, M x

  PS How to use them:

  1. Tap the settings icon on your phone, it looks like a cog.

  2. It’s obvious from there, be brave.

  In the box was a pair of the little ear buttons.

  A smile spread over my face. Marsha.

  I followed her instructions. It was pretty obvious – it was just like a smaller version of my slate. It even asked me if I wanted it to upload music based on my preferences. It was brilliant.

  I caught up with Marsha on the way to prep.

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “They’re a spare pair. I didn’t need them.”

  “Well, thank you. It’s really kind.”

  Marsha sighed and patted my head. “Anything I can do to save you from your own weirdness.”

  I smiled. She thought I was weird because I went running, not because I had two mums or had spent almost half a century in a deep freeze. I kind of loved Marsha.

  “Have you got your phone?” she asked. When I handed it over, she looked impressed. “You paired them yourself?”

  “I was brave, as per instructions.”

  She laughed and said, “Fastest way to learn is to have a go.”

  She pressed a camera icon. I knew what it was from lessons with Giles but I hadn’t looked at it since I’d arrived at school. She said, “Your Instagram is looking woefully unloved. Hold out your wrist.”

  She took a picture of my Swatch and showed me. “This is how to put a filter on it – let’s make those primary colours pop. Cool. Now hashtags – what is it? #swatch #eighties #sleepingbeauty #girlofice #misslilly.”

  “Don’t…” I said, remembering how horrible those people had been about my teeth.

  She gave me the phone back. “Too late.”

  “Why have you used Miss Lilly’s name?”

  “Because she’ll love it. Think of all that free publicity. Look at all those likes already. Cool, hey?”

  A stream of little hearts were popping up on the screen.

  I said, “Hmmm.”

  A nursery rhyme was running round my head: When it was good, it was very, very good, but when it was bad, it was horrid. I decided not to read the comments, good or bad – but I couldn’t help the little rush of happiness at all those people liking my watch.

  Homework was way better with music in my ears. Two hours didn’t seem so bad and soon we were heading to dinner. I wondered what I could find for the boy to eat. It wasn’t going to be steak, that was for sure. I had mashed green stuff – I think it might have been broccoli – with C-plan. I’d have given him that but, firstly, I needed it – probably as much as he did – and, secondly, there was no way of me sneaking it out of the dining hall.

  One of the other Blue House girls solved my problem. There was a note on Blue House door to go to the ODR. Someone was having a birthday and her mum had sent in a huge box of doughnuts. We sang a terrible version of “Happy Birthday” and lined up for one each.

  Marsha was surprised when I joined the queue. “Didn’t think you’d be able to eat this.”

  I shrugged. “I can lick the sugar off.” I wrapped it in a napkin. “I’ll save it for later.”

  All I needed was a bag to put it in so it didn’t get wet in the rain and that was easy – there was some kind of waxed paper for wrapping food up in the kitchen drawers and a few string bags in the cupboard underneath.

  Marsha said, “Want to come to my room for chats?”

  I shook my head – I had a doughnut delivery to complete. “I think I dropped my—” I nearly said “watch” but that was still very visible on my arm. “Ring. When I was out running.”

  “When did you go out running?” Marsha said.

  Keisha interrupted, “You aren’t going out? It’s pouring down outside.”

  “And what ring have you lost? I don’t remember you wearing a ring?”

  The stream of questions made me feel guilty, but once I’d started lying I felt I had to stick with it.

  “It was my mum’s. I don’t know why I put it on, stupid really. I want to see if I can find it, before it gets too dark.”

  “I should come with you,” Marsha said.

  “Why? Don’t be silly. I won’t be long.”

  She made a face. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Course. Don’t worry about me. I want to get an early night anyway; I’m worn out.”

  I was worn out, but I needed to message Stacey when I got back from my mercy mission, and I didn’t want to do that with Marsha around.

  I ran down to the hedge. The ground was slippery with the fresh and falling rain and it was ridiculously windy. Running was hard work and I was breathless by the time I arrived. There was no sign of the dog or the boy. I didn’t know what to do, so I hung the doughnut bag on a branch. As I did, I thought I glimpsed white fur through the bush. If Hedge Boy was there, he didn’t want to see me. Well, that was fine. He was the poor kid stuck in the rain.

  I tried to run back up the hill but the ground was slick and my legs were properly tired. I’d made it to the car park when I slipped and smacked down hard on my knee. I rolled over, clutching my leg and cursing. Blood flowed warmly from a gash where I’d landed on the edge of a broken flint. I squeezed my eyes shut and my hand tight over the cut while the initial shock passed.

  Wincing, I inspected the damage – my hands were scuffed and covered in blood and the cut on my knee was pouring. I got up and hobbled back inside and straight into Madam Hobbs.

  “Good Lord, girl, what have you done?”

  “I slipped.”

  “Upstairs to the health centre with you.”

  She marched me up a narrow staircase and knocked on a door that said Nurse.

  “Come in.”

  Madam Hobbs nudged me in and said, “Accident, Anabelle – Laura Henley, new girl. Leave you to it.”

  She left me with the nurse smiling up at me from behind a desk.

  “Laura! How lovely to meet you. Oh…” She’d spotted my bloody knee. “Oopsie. Hop up on the bed. Right, let’s clean you up and have a proper look. How did you do this?”

  “I slipped on my way back from a run. I had permission.”

  She dabbed at my knee with antiseptic. “Good job all your jabs are up-to-date. I was actually just going through your records. You’re due to come to see me on Friday for a check-up. It’s quite deep this. I think you need a little repair job. Okay?”

  I gritted my teeth and prepared for stitches. She finished cleaning the wound and then glued my knee back together before putting a dressing on it. She wiped my hands and checked them too.

  “At least those are jus
t a bit grubby. Okay, you’ll do. No more PE until I’ve checked that knee again in case it bursts open. We can check it on Friday but if it gets sore, come back straight away. We don’t want to risk an infection.”

  I hopped down from the bed. “Thank you. It feels better already.”

  “And how’s everything else?”

  “Fine. I’ve been eating a bit more. Actually, I was wondering, do you think it’s okay to step up the solid food?”

  “I don’t see why not. Your tummy will soon tell you if you aren’t coping. Any constipation?”

  My cheeks burned; I shook my head.

  “That’s a good sign. What about your periods?”

  “Not yet. Can I go now, Madam?”

  “All right, but—”

  “Thanks.”

  I didn’t wait for any more embarrassing questions.

  Marsha was coming out of my room when I got back.

  “Hey, did you find it?” she said.

  “Sorry?”

  “The ring? Looks like you’ve fought a dragon for it.”

  I looked down at my leg – it was still a bit bloody and I had mud splatters all over me.

  “Oh yeah – no. So annoying – I fell coming back. Did you want something?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You were coming out of my room?”

  “Oh, just a chat. No worries.”

  I watched her go. She’d known I was out. I’d literally just told her. And if she’d wanted a chat, why was she going now that I was there?

  I shivered, still wet from the rain. I needed a bath to warm up before I contacted Stacey. I ducked in my room to get my wash things and noticed my slate was active – Notitia-John was hovering above it.

  Had I left it like that?

  Marsha couldn’t have been looking at it – she wasn’t set up as a user. Besides, why would she? She had her own computer.

  “Notitia, has someone else tried to use you?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”

  “Has someone else used you?”

  “Do you mean ‘Has someone gained unauthorized access to this computer’?”