“It is impressive, isn’t it?” said Mum with a quick glance up at the house as she found a space at the end of the drive and began to manoeuvre the car into it. “It looks more like a country hotel than a school.”
I nodded. “I wonder if they do breakfast in bed. Make mine a chocolate milkshake and fries.”
Mum laughed and switched off the engine. “Ready?” she asked as she smoothed down her skirt.
I nodded again. I wanted to get out of the car as soon as possible because I couldn’t help but feel that Mum’s little old Ford Fiesta looked well out of place amidst the expensive-looking cars but no one seemed to take much notice. Car doors were opening, shutting, boots slamming, cases being hauled up the driveway by exhausted-looking parents as girls greeted each other with shrieks and hugs. Some older girls slouched inside looking cool and indifferent, like they couldn’t wait to get rid of their parents. Others, like me, got out of cars and looked round nervously. I don’t think I’d ever felt so small in my whole life. Although I wasn’t exactly a junior, as I’d be going into Year Eight, I could see that I was still amidst the little starter squirts, wide-eyed and anxious.
Mum took a letter out of her bag and glanced at it. “Right. We have to look for someone in a yellow T-shirt with Europa written on it,” she said, then looked around at the crowd.
“Over there,” I said as I spotted a tall girl with long blonde hair by a stone angel near the main door in the courtyard. She had a notepad and seemed to be ticking off pupils before sending them inside. “Yellow’s for my house. Europa.”
“Okay. You go over and let her know that we’re here,” said Mum, “and I’ll get your bags. You take the little one from the back seat that you can wheel.”
I pulled out the wheelie case and made my way over to the girl in yellow and the small group around her. She looked at her pad then up at us.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Fleur Maclean. I’m one of the prefects in Year Eleven and I’ll be showing you the ropes. There are four houses in the school, Europa, Io, Ganymede and Callisto. All named after the four moons of Jupiter. Your house will be the same as mine, Europa. First give me your names so I can tick them off. Then go into the main hall, down the corridor on the right and into Room 30 where your house mistress, Mrs Blain, is waiting. She’ll direct you to your rooms.”
Dutifully we gave our names then trooped into the main hall. I took a quick look at the other girls. There were five of them and they looked younger than me, so were probably new Year-Seven girls. They looked as bewildered as I felt. At least they’re all in this together, I thought as I looked around for someone else my age who might be starting. It won’t be so bad if there’s a few of us and maybe I’ll get to share a room with someone really nice. Although it won’t be Jess or any of my old mates, at least I might make a friend.
Mum hoisted my bags after me into the main hall and we looked around. The walls were wood panelled, with corridors leading off in all directions. An enormous staircase led up to a stunning stained glass window of a god-like figure with the sun blazing out behind him. The atmosphere was the complete opposite of my old school, which was a run-down 1950s building that smelt of sour milk and boiled cabbage. Here the air was fragrant with beeswax and flowers, from the many huge arrangements on polished tables around the hall.
“I have to go and meet my house mistress,” I said, pointing down one of the corridors. “I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”
Mum nodded and, for a moment, looked as young as some of the new inmates.
I was determined to be grown up about things from now on. It was my first day and I didn’t want to be put down as a baby from the kick-off. It is daunting though, I thought as I hurried to find Room 30. So many corridors, so many rooms. I’ll never find my way around. I must tell Mum I’ll need a compass for navigation and a flask and sandwiches for if I get lost.
I tried one door but it was a broom cupboard. Then another which looked like a cloakroom. Just as I was coming out, Sara Jenkins walked past with her mates, all of whom had the same long blonde highlighted hair.
“Hi, Sara,” I said, giving her my best smile.
“Sorry, do I know you?” she asked as she looked me up and down, taking in my uniform (of course, hers fitted perfectly.)
“Um, not really, we live near each other. I’m starting today.”
“Bully for you,” drawled Sara, then she whispered something to one of her friends.
“Um. Sure you haven’t got the wrong uniform on?” asked her friend from behind a curtain of long fair hair.
“Nope, same one as you,” I said. “One size fits all. I must be so petite that mine hangs off me whereas yours… well it fits perfectly doesn’t it?”
The girl blushed and Sara scowled at me and was about to say something back when a blonde lady with a round face and an enormous bosom came bustling forward.
“New arrival?” she asked, looking at me.
Sara’s scowl disappeared to be replaced by a sunny smile. “Yes, Mrs Blain. We were just showing her the way.”
“Good girls. In there,” she said pointing at a door.
Once inside, she ticked our names off on her checklist, then gave us our room numbers. There were squeals of delight when Sara and her mates realized that they would be rooming together again.
“And you, Gemma…?” she asked looking at me.
“Gemma Whiting, Miss.”
“I’ve put you in with another new girl called Ruth Parker,” she said. “You can find your way round together. Room 22 on the first floor of Europa wing. Now if you all go back to the main hall, one of the prefects will show you up and give you your sheet of events for the rest of the day.”
Ruth Parker, I thought. I wonder what she’s going to be like. I was glad I hadn’t been put in with one of Sara’s crowd, as from the looks they were giving me behind Mrs Blain’s back, they had clearly decided I was a bad smell.
Chapter Three
School mouse
“You can go now,” I said to Mum after Fleur had shown us up to my room and Mum had unpacked all my stuff.
“No, no, I can stay a bit longer,” said Mum as she fussed about, arranging my books on a bookcase to the right of the room.
The room wasn’t bad. Quite cheerful, in fact, for a prison cell, with rose chintz bedcovers and curtains and white furniture. It had a pretty view over the gardens and trees at the back.
“Which bed do you want?” asked Mum pointing at the single beds on either side of the room.
“I’ll let Ruth choose,” I said. I was determined to be friends with my roommate when she arrived. It could be so cool. Being an only child, I’d never had to share my room except on sleepovers. This could be like having a sleepover every night. Maybe Ruth could be the sister I’d never had.
After everything was unpacked, Mum was still hovering and I was eager to start exploring.
“You can go now, Mum,” I said again and pointed to the sheet that Fleur had given me earlier. “I have to be shown round with the Year Sevens.”
Mum went pale. “Are… are you sure you’ll be okay? You won’t be lonely?”
As I ushered her towards the door, I got the feeling she was the one who was going to be feeling lonely.
“I’ll be fine,” I said as she looked near to tears. “Now you have to be brave, Mum. Come on. Chin up.”
She smiled weakly. “It’s supposed to be me saying that to you.”
I smiled back at her and together we made our way back downstairs and to the car, where she looked like she was going to blub for Britain. I was determined I wasn’t going to. I’d done my crying. A part of me couldn’t help but be curious and I was dying to look around.
Finally Mum got into the car and drove off and I turned back to face the rest of my first day. Mum needn’t have worried about me being lonely. There wasn’t time. As the last cars carrying parents disappeared down the driveway, the prefects went into overdrive. We were organised into groups of four and give
n the grand tour. The school was immense – four wings for each of the houses. There was an Olympic-sized swimming pool and a gym in a modern annex at the back, tennis courts, a vast library and a clinic where we were told that there were doctors, dentists and opticians on call should we ever need any of them. Outside the kitchen of one of the wings, there was a vegetable garden, a hen-house and a small enclosure with a couple of a goats and a donkey. Each house had its own dining room and a common room with a telly and toaster. Finally we were introduced to our matron, who had rooms at the top of our wing with Mrs Blain, though we were told not to go up there “unless there was an emergency”.
I was beginning to enjoy myself. It was like I’d been left at a holiday camp and my earlier misgivings were starting to disappear. It can only get better when I meet Ruth, I thought. My very own roommate to share it all with, and like me, she won’t know anyone. I can’t wait.
After the tour, the prefects handed out welcome packs with maps, timetables, sheets of information and an invitation to meet at one o’clock in the dining room for pizza and a question-and-answer session. I raced upstairs to the first floor to see if Ruth Parker had arrived yet.
I flung open the door to see a girl lying on the bed reading a book. She was tiny. And I mean tiny – I’m not tall, at five foot two, but she looked like she was only about nine years old. Maybe she’s one of these genius-type people who are way ahead of their age, I thought.
“Hi,” I said. “You must be Ruth. I was wondering where you were.”
The girl glanced up nervously and I couldn’t help but think she looked like a startled mouse. She even had hair the colour of a mouse, light brown tied back in a severe plait.
“Hello,” she said, then went back to her book.
“I’m Gemma. Gemma Whiting. I’m going to be sharing a room with you.”
“Oh,” said Ruth with another quick glance up. “Okay. I’ve put my things away. I hope that’s all right.”
“Course,” I said. “It’s your room too. Have you had a look around?”
Ruth shook her head. “Not really.”
“Well, there are loads of prefects showing people around and pizza in the common room if you’re hungry and…”
“No thanks,” said Ruth.
“Are you sad to leave home?” I asked.
No answer, just a tiny shrug of one of her tiny shoulders. “My parents have gone abroad, so I don’t have a home as such. They’ve rented it out while they work out their contract in America.”
Oh, this is going to be fun, I thought. Not. But I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her; at least my parents were only a couple of hours away.
“What are you reading?”
“Philip Pullman,” she said.
“Is it good?”
Another shrug and a brief nod. Well, she’s lively, I thought. But maybe she wants to be left alone. Maybe she’s sad about her parents leaving and needs some quiet time.
I waited for a few moments in the hope that she might say something else, but she seemed deeply engrossed in her book.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going down for some food. I’ll be back later.”
Another shrug. So I left.
I made my way down the stairs and into the common room, where a crowd of girls were tucking into lunch. I wished Ruth had come down with me so that I had someone to talk to, because apart from the Year Sevens, all the other girls already knew each other.
I went to the buffet table and helped myself to pizza, then looked for somewhere to sit. There was one space on a table where Sara Jenkins and her mates were sitting. Sara saw me eye the spare chair and she quickly put her bag on it. I got the message – not wanted there… I made my way over to the window and pretended to be fascinated by the view. I hope Ruth livens up a bit, I thought as I stared intently at a rose bush and tried not to look too self-conscious. I don’t like this awkward feeling of not knowing anyone.
The common room looked out onto the front and in the distance I could see a motorbike coming up the driveway. Then I heard someone say, “Oh, here’s Hermie,” and a group of older girls rushed out. I took a closer look to see who was on the bike. Whoever he was, he was tearing down the driveway at full pelt. For want of anything better to do or anyone to talk to, I decided to go out and join the group of girls who were by now waiting in the courtyard.
“Who’s Hermie?” I asked a girl with short dark hair who’d obviously had the same idea.
“Don’t know,” she said as we reached the front, “but his bike looks cool.”
As Hermie approached and saw the gathering crowd, he got up on his feet on the seat and did a handstand on his handles. The crowd gasped in admiration. I caught my breath as I thought he was going to fall off any minute – what he was doing looked really precarious. He didn’t stay up long, though, and swung back down into the seat, revved up, reared the front wheel up into the air and screeched to a stop outside the main door. There he turned off his bike, took his helmet off, ran his fingers through his glossy shoulder-length dark hair, shook out his hair some more and gave his admirers a huge smile. All the older girls, including Fleur, went red and smiled coyly back at him. He was clearly a hit with the Year Elevens.
I laughed. It was like watching a shampoo commercial where some impossibly handsome model flicks perfect hair this way and that way for the camera. Like – flickety-flick. Look at me. I’m so gorgeous. I had to admit that he was good looking though, like one of those statues of a Greek god. I was just trying to work out how old he was – maybe nineteen, maybe in his twenties – when an elderly man with white hair and a beard came rushing out of the front door. He looked furious.
“Oops,” said a girl behind me. “Here comes trouble.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Headmaster,” said the girl. “Dr Cronus. Stay out of his way if you can. He can be a real taskmaster if you get him in the wrong mood.”
“And what sort of insane display do you call that?” yelled Dr Cronus. “This is a school, for heaven’s sake, not a circus.”
Hermie grinned. “Hi, Grandpa,” he said. “Delivery for one of the girls.”
Dr Cronus then turned to the crowd of girls. “And what are you lot gawping at?”
I looked at the floor and shuffled about, trying to pretend that I wasn’t really there. I didn’t want to get in trouble on my first day.
Dr Cronus sighed. “For the sake of the new girls, I suppose I’d better introduce you,” he said to Hermie. “Girls, gather round. This is Hermie. He’s our messenger boy. If any of you have post, he’ll take it and he will also bring our post and packages from outside to us. All post can be left in the main hall in the box saying post.”
One of the girls giggled and Dr Cronus gave her a stern look.
“And what’s funny about that?” he asked.
“Er… nothing,” said the girl. “Nothing at all.”
Hermie took off his leather jacket to reveal a black sleeveless T-shirt with the words Mercury Communications on it and toned, tanned arms. I also noticed that he had a tattoo of a planet on his right arm and four star-shaped earrings in his left ear. He didn’t look like the grandson of Dr Cronus at all as the headmaster looked like he belonged to another ancient age. Hermie was well fit, and definitely of this century. He gave a little bow and another of the girls giggled, then quickly stifled it when she saw Dr Cronus look at her.
“Only one package today,” said Hermie, producing a parcel from the back of his bike. “Ta-DAH! For the one and only Gemma Whiting.”
I felt myself go red as everyone looked round to see who Gemma Whiting was. I put up my hand and made my way forward.
Hermie looked right into my eyes before handing me the parcel. I felt myself go even redder, even though his expression was kind. “Ah. So it’s you!” he said. “Your lucky day, babe.”
I took the parcel from him. “Er… thank you very much.”
By now even more girls had come out, including Sara and her mates. Ever
yone was looking at me and at my parcel.
“Have a good day,” said Hermie as he tied his jacket round his waist, jumped back on his bike, put his helmet back on and revved up his engine. He gave his grandfather a cheery wave, then took off. As he passed Sara and her friends, he spun his front wheel so it made gravel from the drive fly up and hit their legs. Sara leapt back and as Hermie rode past me, I swear he winked at me.
“Okay. Enough of this,” said Dr Cronus. “Settle down now. Back inside.” And he disappeared off through the front door.
“What is it?” asked the dark-haired girl as a crowd now gathered round me. “What have you been sent?”
“Don’t know,” I said as I tore the package open. All eyes were on me once again and I felt a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment at being the centre of so much attention.
Inside was a turquoise glittery mobile phone wrapped in bubble wrap, a silver pendant and a card. The phone was state-of-the-art designer fab and the pendant was delicate and exquisite. Both items looked like they had cost mega bucks and I wondered who on earth could have sent me such gorgeous things. There must be a mistake, I thought.
“What’s on the chain?” asked one of the girls, looking closely at the pendant.
“Looks like a Zodiac symbol,” said Fleur. “Yes. It’s the twins. For Gemini. Is that your star sign, Gemma?”
I nodded. Maybe it wasn’t a mistake.
“Same as me,” said Fleur. “I’m Gemini too, so that’s how I knew.”
“And cool phone,” said one of her friends.
“What does the card say?” asked Sara who had suddenly decided to take an interest.
“Don’t know,” I said as I read the card. I was hoping that it would tell me who the gifts were from, but there was no message on it. In fact, it looked like a business card with an address on it on one side, and on the other side, in small print, there were a few facts about Gemini.
Gemini: an air sign, rules the arms, chest and lungs, colours are yellow and silver. Lucky day: Wednesday. Birthstone: crystal/agate/emerald. Keywords: lively, communicative, adaptable, multi-faceted, sharp-witted, mentally active, independent. Ruled by Mercury.
From Geek to Goddess (Zodiac Girls) Page 2
