Casting Off

by P. I. Paris

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘You’ve proven to be better than either of us. Well done, mate.’

  None of them could speak for several moments as the increasingly frantic shouts filtered into the room.

  ‘What now?’ said Angus. ‘I’m worried I might have peaked too early!’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Julie, hanging onto his arm for support. ‘I think I’m going to explode.’

  ‘Let’s go out with a bang,’ said Walter.

  ‘What, another one?’ quipped Angus.

  With a great deal of effort, Walter managed to regain control of his laughter. In a loud voice, he called out as if in a moment of ecstasy, ‘En passant!’ They looked at each other with tears running down their cheeks. Deirdre’s cries had now been joined by those of Mrs MacDonald. There was only one course of action. The three of them called out together.

  ‘En passant! En passant!’

  Forty Nine

  ‘Sex what?’ said Miss Ross. ‘I had hoped we had left this sort of topic behind.’

  The knitting on their laps had been ignored since the three friends had gathered after supper in Dorothy’s bedroom and she had begun recounting a conversation from that afternoon.

  ‘That’s what I couldn’t understand.’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself, love,’ said Joan.

  ‘But I was so useless! This poor girl was crying and crying, while I hadn’t a clue what she was trying to explain to me. In the end I wrote it down,’ she said, picking up the notepad on her bed and reading out slowly what she had written: ‘S-e-x-t-i-n-g’.

  ‘Sexting? What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s something to do with sending images via a phone,’ said Joan.

  ‘A telephone?’ queried Dorothy, looking with a baffled expression at the landline on the little table.

  ‘Mobile phones. I know it’s something to do with photographs. I’ve heard my grandson Matthew talk about cyber-bullying, but to be honest I was rather lost as to what he was going on about.’

  ‘We can’t help these young people if we’re so ignorant about the problems they face,’ said Dorothy.

  ‘I fear it’s a case of modern technology making communication between different generations more difficult. I never had this sort of issue when I was headmistress. Bullying at school was a lot simpler to solve.’

  ‘What are we going to do? If the Pearls of Wisdom advice line is going to help, then we have to understand what it is youngsters are experiencing. This girl seemed quite terrified at what some boy was threatening. About the only information I got out of her that I did understand was that she was called Emily and was only fifteen. I asked if I could ring her back once I had thought more about it.’

  ‘Did she actually give you her number?’ asked Miss Ross.

  ‘Yes, it’s in my notepad, but what good does that do us, or her?’

  They sat in silence. The animosity that Miss Ross had felt towards Joan when she first arrived had long gone and the three women were now bound closely by their common circumstances, aims and friendship.

  ‘How old is your Matthew?’ she asked.

  ‘Fifteen. Why?’

  ‘He’s the same age as this girl. Perhaps we old fogies need his help so that we are able to advise others.’

  Joan called her grandson the following day and explained the situation. As she was so fond of saying, he was a bright lad and a very mature one. He said to leave it with him for a few days. When Matthew called back, she was surprised at his suggestion but promised to speak to the others, which was why the three women now found themselves sitting in the office.

  ‘Let me get this right,’ said Matron. ‘Your grandson, along with other students and one of the teachers, wants to come here and act out a drama to explain what sexting is about?’

  ‘That about sums it up. Matthew is heavily involved in the school drama group and they’re always keen to have an audience.’

  ‘I know that it’s really only us who want to understand because of Pearls of Wisdom,’ said Miss Ross, ‘but if they’re willing to devise and learn a drama, then it would be good to at least provide them with people to perform in front of.’

  Matron had come across a lot of things in her life, yet residents setting up an advice line for youngsters . . . well, it had to be admired.

  ‘Obviously,’ continued the retired headmistress, ‘this couldn’t involve anyone like Mr Forsyth or Albert.’

  There had been no further incidents between the two men since they had fought in the corridor. However, Mr Forsyth and Beatrice had appeared hand in hand only the previous week and announced that they were getting married. Following the morning, when the two had been found in bed together, Matron had been forced to inform their respective families, which had resulted in some rather heated meetings.

  ‘Well, I think it’s very enterprising and that in itself should be encouraged,’ said Matron thoughtfully. ‘We’ll be treading some new ground with this – potentially rocky ground. Then again, maybe it’s time that we all saw some different scenery.’

  * * *

  The lounge was packed the following Tuesday when a dozen students arrived with a teacher and set themselves up at one end of the room. Their rather sparse set consisted mainly of a large screen and a projector with a laptop. Most of the youngsters sat on the floor to watch, several residents moving their legs so that some of them could lean against the front of the chairs.

  Mrs MacDonald patted a boy on the head as though he was one of the ‘pat dogs’ that were sometimes brought around. Rather startled, he looked behind him. Seeing the elderly woman made him think of his grandmother who had dementia and was in a care home not far away. The lad smiled kindly and turned back to face the action.

  The drama centred on Matthew and a girl called Hannah. Their relationship went well until he started to pressure her into taking a nude photograph and sending it to him.

  ‘No one else will see it, honestly,’ he said. ‘It’s just so that I have something of you when we’re apart. Everyone does it. I’ll send you one.’

  The play was cleverly devised so that the audience could understand what was happening but were never exposed to anything offensive. Matthew went behind the screen and a pre-recording of him was projected on to the side people could see. The image showed a naked young male, with certain parts blurred. Hannah, studying her mobile, suddenly looked uncomfortable. The screen went blank and Matthew appeared from around the back, dressed as before.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘You’ve got one of me, so I need to have one of you. It’s only fair.’

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  The storyline covered a period of a week during which he continued to press her.

  ‘If you love me, you would do it,’ he said in scene five. ‘It’s not as if I’m forcing you into having sex or anything, is it? I’m the only one at school who doesn’t have a picture of his girlfriend. People will think you’re frigid. Are you really going to spoil our relationship just for that?’

  Almost all of the residents were present, as well as many staff, and they were absolutely spellbound. Matron, standing near the door, had never seen everyone so silent and still. No one fidgeted, whispered to a neighbour or even coughed. It was, she thought, quite an extraordinary response.

  People sat forward in their seats, willing Hannah to resist but suspecting she was about to cave in. The girl walked behind the screen and a similar process occurred, where the audience could see a projection of a recording, only this time it was her. The boy, looking at his mobile phone, was suddenly animated, staring with delight at an image that he had just received. Hannah walked back into view.

  ‘You promise it will never be shown to anyone else?’ she pleaded.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, taking her into her arms. ‘I’m not going to show this to anyone. Don’t worry. It’s only for me.’

  They walked away to indicate another scene change and the passage of time. As the play progressed Matthew sent the image to
one of his friends, swearing him to secrecy beforehand. He in turn sent it to someone else and soon a large number of students had the photograph.

  When Hannah discovered the betrayal, she was distraught, breaking off with Matthew, who then posted the image on his Facebook site in revenge. At this point many of the other pupils stood up and became involved in the drama, pretending to post the image on even more sites. The play ended with Hannah refusing to attend school and contemplating suicide.

  The room was silent. A couple of the women had taken out handkerchiefs and were wiping their eyes. It was only when the actors took their bows that people broke into enthusiastic rounds of applause. The teacher thanked them for the invitation. Matron in turn expressed her praise for the excellent performance and invited everyone to stay for afternoon tea.

  ‘That was marvellous,’ said Dorothy to the girl who had taken part. Several students were standing in small groups, although some had remained on the floor, chatting to the residents in their chairs. ‘Is your name really Hannah?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied the girl, who was standing with Matthew and a couple of other teenagers.

  ‘I’m Dorothy. Thank you so much for coming here to explain all this. I was quite frightened at one point. We were all willing you not to give in, dear.’

  ‘Lots of people take nude pictures and send them to boyfriends or girlfriends,’ she said.

  ‘Do they? Well, it was a terrible thing for him to show it to someone else and then to put it on Facebrook.’

  ‘Facebook,’ said Matthew.

  ‘Whatever it’s called, it was wicked.’

  ‘It’s natural,’ said a boy who looked about fourteen. ‘Like, when two people split up, they’re bound to want to get revenge.’

  ‘Are they?’ said Dorothy. ‘What on earth for? Can’t people simply part company if they’re not suited? Why do they have to hurt each other? We never did that in my day.’

  ‘Well,’ said the youth, not certain of the answer, ‘they just do, like.’

  ‘I don’t see the sense in that. And why did you give in, Hannah? Isn’t it down to you what you do with your body? Why give control of it to someone else?’

  ‘He would have left me,’ said the girl. ‘He said if I loved him I would do it.’

  ‘Oh, men have been trying that game since time began,’ said Dorothy, becoming unusually angry. ‘If you love me, you will sleep with me! Now they’re doing another version of it using this modern technology. Well, that’s not love. If you care for a person, you do your best to make them happy and ensure they’re safe and kept from harm.

  ‘Bullying someone like this is just a way of gaining control over them. There’s nothing clever or grown-up or honourable about that sort of behaviour. It’s outright abuse and young people need to understand that they don’t have to put up with it.

  ‘If anyone ever tries to own your body like that in real life, Hannah, you tell them to take a run and jump! And if they don’t stop their nonsense, you come and get me!’

  A small group of students, along with the teacher, had gathered to listen to this gentle little old lady speaking with such passion. When she finished, they all burst into applause. Dorothy looked around in surprise and then appeared rather flustered.

  ‘Goodness . . . if you’ll all excuse me, I must pay a visit. I would recommend the pastries. You need to get in there quick or they’ll all be gone. Matthew, make sure you say hello to your grandmother.’

  The teenagers stayed throughout the afternoon. They all wanted to see around the building and left the lounge in small groups accompanied by various residents who were delighted to act as tour guides. When Dorothy returned and sat down in an armchair, the teacher came over and sat next to her.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your surname,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, call me Dorothy. Everyone does.’

  ‘I was very impressed by your speech.’

  ‘It was hardly that.’

  ‘I don’t mind telling you, I would be pleased to get students hanging on to my every word the way they did with you.’

  ‘I think you’re just trying to flatter an old woman.’

  ‘I’m not, and to prove it I was wondering if you would be willing to come to the school and give a talk?’

  ‘Me? What could I possibly talk about that would be of interest to anyone?’ said Dorothy, taken aback at the mere suggestion. ‘It’s Miss Ross you need to speak to. She used to be a headmistress, you know.’

  ‘But you’re the person who inspired the pupils. You’re the one I want them to hear.’

  Fifty

  The lounge that evening was buzzing with excited chatter. The visit by the youngsters, the moving drama and then showing them around the home had delighted everyone. Joan, Miss Ross and Dorothy had decided to forgo retiring to their usual knitting venue and were sitting in one corner, the latter having just explained the unexpected offer to speak.

  ‘I think you would be excellent,’ said Joan.

  ‘I told him to contact Miss Ross. She’s the expert.’

  ‘The whole point is he doesn’t want a trained teacher,’ said Miss Ross. ‘I’m sure he has plenty of them already. He wants someone who has experience of life and can pass on some everyday common sense, if you like, some old-fashioned wisdom.’

  ‘Well, you could do that.’

  ‘No, I couldn’t. Education is such a part of me that I would always be just another teacher to those students, and these days I’m an ancient one who’s completely out of date. You’re different.’

  ‘I’m a simple old granny, that’s what I am.’

  ‘Why have we set up Pearls of Wisdom if we’re not trying to help the young?’ said Joan. ‘You’re brilliant over the telephone. Your problem is you lack the confidence to do it face to face, but it’s not that much different, is it?’

  Their conversation was brought to a temporary halt when Joyce appeared carrying one of the lighter wooden chairs. She put in down near to them and was about to sit when Joan stood up.

  ‘Here, have my armchair. I’ll sit on that, love.’

  ‘Eh, that’s good of you,’ she said, accepting the offer. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but I can’t get this helpline of yours out of my mind. I would like to be involved.’

  ‘Part of Pearls of Wisdom?’ asked Miss Ross.

  ‘Yes. I’ve learnt a few things during my time that might be useful when giving advice. Seeing that play today and speaking to some of the students afterwards, it got me thinking that I would like to do something to help. After all, what else am I doing with my life? I haven’t any family or anyone who visits and I don’t believe I’m so past it that the brain doesn’t work,’ said Joyce, looking at all three of them.

  They, in turn, were wondering how they could possibly fit her into the bedroom.

  ‘I’ve only got one telephone,’ said Dorothy, ‘but you would be welcome to share some of the shifts if you want.’

  ‘I was wondering if we could get an extension to my room so that if your line is busy and someone else calls, then it automatically comes through to me. It’s not a perfect solution. I’m not about to sit there twenty-four hours a day waiting for calls. But it would be a little better than the present situation, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I think it’s an excellent idea, and a very generous offer,’ said Joan.

  ‘Hear! Hear!’ added Miss Ross. ‘Good for you.’

  Dorothy reached over and took hold of one of Joyce’s tubby hands.

  ‘Welcome aboard the Pearls of Wisdom advice line. Shall we celebrate with a cup of tea?’

  In reply to which they all burst out laughing.

  * * *

  Matron sensed a change in the home over the following days. There was a new vibrancy about the place that she hadn’t known before. Joyce had spoken to her about installing a line and she had agreed to sort this out as soon as possible.

  Several of the students had said they would return at the weekend and although Matron was sceptical about this, a
nd secretly concerned that people were going to be disappointed, on the Saturday morning eight teenagers appeared, including a couple of new faces who had been brought along by friends.

  Walter was reading in the conservatory when Anna came over and said there was someone to see him. He almost said ‘For me?’ but that would have been a pointless reply, so he put down his book and went to investigate. He could hardly believe his eyes as he entered reception; when his visitor smiled, his entire face was so transformed that the nickname finally made sense.

  ‘Smiler!’ he said, striding over to shake the offered hand.

  ‘Hello, I thought you might like this.’

  ‘My walking stick!’ said Walter with delight. ‘Thank you very much. I’m extremely grateful to you, lad.’

  ‘They were all gathered up after the march but the person who kept them didn’t know who they belonged to and it took me a while to track him down. I’ve already given the others to the carer. Your blackthorn is a beauty. I tried it out a few times myself. Sometimes the weight of the shaft in relation to the handle spoils the overall balance.’

  ‘You know something about them?’

  ‘My grandfather was a keen maker and I liked to watch him when I was little. When he died, all his tools came to me, but I had never been old enough for him to show me how to use them.’

  ‘I see,’ said Walter, an idea forming at the back of his mind. ‘Come on, I’ll stand you a cup of tea. There should hopefully be a decent slice of cake on the go as well.’

  The lounge was busy when they entered. Smiler acknowledged several of the teenagers.

  ‘I heard about the play,’ he said when they had found a couple of spare chairs. ‘The visit by the drama group has created a lot of interest at school.’

  ‘It’s good to see some of the students back again,’ said Walter. ‘We don’t get many young people.’ Spotting the person he was looking for, he called over. ‘Come and meet a friend of mine.’

  Angus joined them and was duly introduced. He no longer appeared so gaunt and unkempt, now that he wore Dorothy’s jumper. However, he did seem a bit wary of the ear, nose and lip piercings staring back at him.