by Tanya Allan
“Two main reasons; one, Keira wants to start afresh somewhere there is little chance of anyone knowing her. This is for her piece of mind. Second, I am satisfied that her current school is a good one, as her grades display, but to be honest, I feel her chances of getting better grades in subjects she will really appreciate are better in a school like this that offers a wider range of subjects. Academic subject are great, but the more life-skills and artistic orientated subjects might give her an advantage in further development.”
Doreen smiled at Graham.
“I might ask you to write our prospectus. I wholeheartedly agree. I hated some of the core subjects at school, as the teachers were mediocre and the subjects did not enthral me in the slightest. I was blessed by a place here for sixth form, and can honestly say it opened my eyes to the real world.”
Graham breathed a sigh of relief, pleased that his Internet browsing paid off.
Meanwhile, Shannon o’Hanrahan was showing Keira the gymnasium. Keira was dressed in a summer dress; in fact one that she and Connie had acquired that first day out. Shannon was in shorts and a tee shirt. As the school was still on holiday, she was allowed to wear her own clothes all the time.
“It’s relatively new. I think it was built about four years ago. The Lambster keeps harping on about what things were like in her day, and we don’t know how lucky we are. I hate PE, and they make us go for runs when the hockey pitches are too muddy or frosty,” she said, with her soft Irish accent very obvious.
“The Lambster?”
“Oh, that’s the nickname for the Head. She’s all right, I suppose; a bit too Jolly Hockey Sticks for me.”
“She seemed pretty switched on to me,” Keira observed.
“Oh, that’s for sure,” agreed Shannon. “You can’t put much past her.”
“Do you board?” Keira asked.
“I certainly do; you won’t get me going back to Dublin every weekend. I’ve been here for a week already.”
“How come?”
“Family problems at home, so I was staying with an aunty near Maidstone. She had to go home to Dublin for some family problem, so I asked the Lambster if I could come here. She’s been very good about it.
“What’s it like?”
“Boarding or Dublin?”
“Boarding.”
“It’s okay. Because we’re all seventeen or eighteen, we’re treated like young adults. We each have our own room, which we can decorate more or less how we like. There are rules, but they’re mostly for our safety and to make life easier. I was in a good school in Dublin, but me Dad decided that I needed to get away from the distractions so I could get to Oxford or Cambridge.”
“Did he attend one of them?”
Shannon laughed heartily. She was a pretty girl with red hair and green eyes that twinkled mischievously.
“Me Dad? You have to be kiddin’ me. He’s what they call an entrepreneur, but I call him a wheeler-dealer. He made a fortune in scrap metal and dealing in dodgy property deals back in the eighties. To be honest, I don’t get on with him, and he doesn’t know how to take me. The main reason I’m here is to try to get some English culture to rub off so I might attract some better class of men than them that usually sniff around. It’s the fellas that he calls my distractions.”
“I was under the impression that the Irish don’t exactly love the English,” Keira said cautiously.
“You’re thinking of them up north. To be honest, most of the south don’t give a shit either way. That’s all in the past. We’ve shown that we can fuck up all by ourselves and so we can’t blame it on the English, can we?” she said, referring to the recent financial crisis in Eire.
“I find it all rather confusing,” Keira admitted.
“So do I, to be sure, but all the troubles are because they just can’t live with each other in the north. It’s like me dad and me. We’re fine when we’re apart, but when we’re together, we fight because we’re too alike.”
“Like my parents,” Keira said.
“Divorced, are they?”
“Heading that way.”
“Mine too. My Mum pissed off years ago, and I don’t blame her, as me Dad is a right shit.”
Keira had never met anyone quite like Shannon before. When they were first introduced, outside Mrs Lambert’s study, the Irish girl had been sweetness and light, appearing almost so butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Now, she swore like a trooper and was as down to earth as one could want.
“So, no boys here?” she asked, somewhat wistfully.
“There’s a boys’ school up the road a way, eight or nine miles; just too far to walk. Anyway, we get together for the dramatic and arty-farty stuff, and things like the Christmas Disco. Are you into all that shit?”
“Not really. I’m into computers, and I like sports.”
“Do ye?” Shannon asked, looking at Keira as if she said she liked biting the heads off puppies.
“Yes, I like to keep fit, so I run and swim and stuff. I have played a bit of tennis, but never seriously. My Mum met her lover at the local tennis club.”
“Juicy, was he?” Shannon asked with a grin.
“No, she was the wife of a friend of my Dad.”
Shannon looked a little shocked, and then grinned.
“Cool!”
“Anyway, I’ve never played hockey or that other one with the butterfly nets.”
“Lacrosse; it’s a fucking lethal game. Makes psychopaths out of anyone that plays the damn game; I tried it once and got sent off for trying to kill someone.”
Keira laughed, feeling like she belonged here.
Doreen stood up and announced that she would give Graham a short tour of the main school.
“I’m sure a man of the world like yourself already knows what a gymnasium and a hockey pitch looks like, so perhaps if I show you the conditions in which the girls live might give you a good idea as to how Keira will be living while she is here.”
Graham took that as a positive sign.
They left the study and she showed him the main dining hall and library. Judging by the amount of hi-tech PCs around the place, Keira would be in seventh heaven. He said something like that to his hostess.
“Ah, a bit of a wiz on the old computer, is she?” Doreen asked as they started up the stairs.
“Just a bit. Put it this way, when I have a problem, I go to her. She’s built at least three systems, to my knowledge, and they always seem better than the shop deals.”
On the landing, they walked past a large bay window that overlooked the beautiful grounds. Two girls were walking past the window and they were laughing. It was Keira and the girl who was showing her round the school, Shannon.
Doreen watched Keira for a moment. She was a very pretty girl, displaying no hint whatsoever of any gender confusion. Tall and with an athletic figure, rather than what one would call voluptuous. She was, however, well endowed in the chest department, without being too big, and had the height to carry it.
The two girls walked over to where a car was parked and spoke to an attractive older woman who was sitting on a bench reading a book.
Doreen turned to Graham with a quizzical expression.
“Ah, that’s Stephanie, my, ah, new partner. We thought it better if just Keira and I came in.”
They watched and there did not seem to be any reservation on behalf of Keira in relating to Stephanie.
“They get on well?”
“Very well; in fact, Keira gets on better with her than with her mother. We all went on holiday together.”
“May I ask about your own relationship with her; you mentioned an ex-wife?”
“Indeed; to be brutally honest, it’s amazing that Keira is as well adjusted as she is. I’m a consultant in the financial services industry, and up until recently have been employed by one of the biggest, most prestigious companies in London. Linda was, or probably still is an interior designer with one of the most exclusive design companies. Neither of us was aware of it, but
I don’t think we were there for Kenneth, as Keira used to be called. I suppose one gets so drawn into the cycle of success and achievement that one loses sight of what is important. That’s why I’ve left my old company and now work from home with a handful of clients. Keira has gone through a tough time, so I want to be there for her.”
“And her mother?”
“Isn’t. Sorry, that must sound quite harsh, but Linda has formed a relationship with another woman and does not want anything to do with Keira or me. I’ve not heard from her for a couple of months; letters from the solicitors, yes, but not from her.”
“What does Keira feel about that?”
“You’d have to ask her. However, I don’t think they were close.”
“The school she has been in is co-ed, yes?” Doreen asked.
“Yes.”
“Am I to understand from Mr Pettifer that she has not attended there as a girl?
“No.”
“How awkward for her; I can understand why she is seeking a fresh start. I hesitate to ask a personal and rather sensitive question, but...”
“With the exception perhaps of a brief holiday romance with a young French lad, Keira has had no girl or boyfriends to date. If you asked her, she would say the confusion was sufficient to make it all a non-starter.”
Doreen smiled. They reached the landing, so Doreen walked.
“Thank you; I have to ask, because all the girls are aged between sixteen and eighteen, so are very much post puberty and active sexually, if given enough rope!”
“To be frank, I always suspected that my son was gay, so when Keira emerged, it was an enormous relief. However, being the father of a normal girl, who is becoming more and more aware of boys, is giving me some sleepless nights. She’s been fine so far, except as I said, for the young man she met in France. I think he was sufficiently in awe of her to do anything dangerous, but I was rather taken aback as to how sexually mature and aware she is. She was the one in control and seemed to twist poor Charles around her little finger. It wasn’t as if she was all over him, but she certainly seemed to have gained a lot of confidence and had fallen well and truly on the side of being a heterosexual girl.
“Stephanie was brilliant, and gave Keira the little chat that her mother would have had to give had she been around. However Stephanie said that Keira didn’t need the advice and might even have been able to tell poor Steph a couple of things.”
“This young man, Charles; is he British or a local?”
“Charles is a French boy, a year or so older than Keira. They met on the beach when we were sailing. He was in the local sailing club, and we were having a problem with our mast. He came over and helped. That’s when I realised Keira’s French was far better than I had imagined.”
“Has he been in contact since?”
“We’ve only been back a few days, so I have no idea. If he has, it’ll be via text or email, so unlike the old days of the letters in the post, I will never know.”
“Oh, I know what you mean. This technological age is just so difficult to police. The internet here is controlled by us, so they can’t stray onto any dubious websites, but anyone with a little bit of knowledge can easily bypass the system I mean, a girl with a mobile phone that is used as a mobile modem, can get her laptop onto the web onto any site she wants. It’s a nightmare. They’re all technically adults, so apparently it’s an infringement of their human rights to prevent them from accessing whatever sites they want.”
Doreen was very much up with current law and trends.
“We try to encourage a voluntary acceptance of our code of conduct, and by and large are successful. It’s a harsh world out there, so we find ourselves in a cleft stick. If we shut them away and prevent them gaining experience and knowledge about how harsh a world it is, when they leave here, it will be a bigger shock than if we allow them controlled exposure.”
They had reached one of the corridors off which the girls’ rooms were. None were occupied, so Doreen opened the first one she came to.
It was a small, but comfortable room. The bed, desk, wardrobe and chair were all utilitarian but very serviceable.
“They are permitted their own comfy chair and a computer/office chair if they want. There is enough electricity for their music devices and computers. One girl tried to get a fridge in her room, but we don’t allow that. Televisions are another problem area. There’s a TV lounge on each landing, and there is a fridge in the small kitchen area on each landing, so they learn to share facilities. We find this sets them up well for university.”
“With most personal computers also used as TVs, I can’t see no TV as a problem. Keira doesn’t watch much anyway. Do they not have meals in the dining room?” Graham asked, confused.
“You’re not experienced with girls, so you don’t know that they are constantly nibbling, even if they eat the school food. You will always get the girls who won’t eat in the dining room, but will stuff their faces with biscuits and other junk as soon as they leave the hall. These are young adults, not primary school children. We can guide and advise, but never force them to eat the food.”
“Is the food good? I remember my old school food, and it wasn’t that brilliant.”
“We have just sixty girls here, so our chef doesn’t have the large numbers to cater for that most modern schools do. We are able to cater for a variety of dietary requirements; from those with allergies, through vegetarians or religious specialities, to plain old likes and dislikes.”
“Keira eats like a young horse,” Graham said with a smile.
“Then oats will be no problem,” Doreen said, displaying that she did have a sense of humour.
“So, did you like France?” Shannon asked, after Keira told her where she got her suntan.
“I always like it there; but this year was the best ever.”
“Have you got a place there or what?”
“Dad bought a three-bedroom, luxury apartment back, oh, about seven or eight years ago. He had a particularly good year, so he put his bonus to best use. He was going to sell it, so as to maximise the profit, but when the divorce reared its ugly head, he put it in my name so Mum couldn’t get her mitts on it.”
“Have you got a boat, then?”
“Not a boat; we keep the Hobiecat in the underground garage through the winter and take it out when we’re there. We keep it on the beach, by the sailing club.”
“What’s a Hobbie-thingy?”
“A catamaran; it has two hulls with a fabric deck stretched between the two. It’s got a big mast, so you can sail it pretty fast.”
“So, no cabins you can sleep in?”
“It’s not that kind of a boat.”
“I don’t like water, me.”
“Can’t you swim?”
“I can swim, but I just don’t like getting water in my eyes and ears. I don’t like getting my head wet, really.”
“Do you like it here?” Keira suddenly asked.
“Would I ask to come here rather than go home if I didn’t?” the Irish girl asked.
“No, I suppose not. Still, it is rather, I don’t know, removed from reality?”
“That’s a good word. I guess you could be right, as it is rather posh and all that, but the Lambster does surprise us with how much she trusts us to do. It’s not like the rules are here to tie us down, more like they teach us to discipline ourselves. Do you know what I mean?”
“Have you just the one year left?” Keira asked.
“Yeah, but I haven’t a clue what to do. I’d like to go into acting, which is why I’m doing the Drama set.”
“Set?”
“A lot of the ‘A’ levels we do here are job orientated. Like, we have the Sports and Leisure set; it’s a double vocational A level in sports science and leisure management. The drama set includes English, drama and theatre management.”
“Oh, do they do any IT system stuff?”
“You mean computers and that shit?”
“Yes.”
“Cool!” Keira said, already planning her chosen path.
“You have to get accepted first,” Shannon reminded her.
“Oh, I suppose you’re right. I’d forgotten.”
“Do you like the place?”
Keira looked at the beautiful buildings and well-kept grounds.
“I’ll tell you after the first term."
Fifteen
“Miss Frost, that is the rule; all jewellery comes off, and that’s final!” Miss Trehearn said.
“But, Miss...”
“Either you play, or you go. If you play, then that thing round your neck comes off. It’s a health and safety issue; for if someone gets their clothing snagged, or it is bent into your neck, someone might get hurt or clothing could be damaged; that’s the rules!”
“You can’t bend it, it’s very strong.”
“Your choice; do you want to play?” the coach asked, ignoring Keira’s pleas.
“Yes, Miss.”
“Then take it off.”
Keira desperately wanted to play, as she had been selected for the short list for a trial to play for the school first eleven against another school at hockey. It was the first time she had a chance to be selected to represent any school in anything. This game was the final trial before the match on Saturday, and out of twenty-two possible players, she just had to shine.
She was in a justifiable quandary, for the torc had been round her neck consistently since that day she had placed it there. It was loose enough to shower and wash without difficulty, and it never seemed to get grubby or sweaty.
A couple of girls had teased her about it, but she claimed it was an old family good-luck charm and she never took it off.
She knew that if she took it off, then there was only one possible result, and that would be disastrous.
“Can I put it in my locker, please?” she asked, as sweetly as she could. She thought she might be able to place it round her thigh under her skirt, or something.
“You have three minutes!”
She raced to the changing room and grabbed both ends of the torc. It came free as always, and she waited for the tingles.
They never came
She waited, and waited, and still nothing happened.
