by Susan Lewis
I went to Wales once when I was really small to see Granny Morton, that’s Daddy’s gran. I can’t remember much about it now, except that there was coal everywhere, and I couldn’t understand anything anyone said.
The head of the cathedral is coming now, with the choir, so we all stand and start to sing the hymn ‘At the Name of Jesus’.
Just like the ones at St Peter’s the service goes on and on, especially the sermon, which I don’t bother listening to. I’ve got other things on my mind, like being hungry and freezing and afraid to let go of my stocking top under my cloak. I wonder if Dad’s here. I hope so. I wish I could go home with him after and snuggle up in front of the fire with a cup of Bournville and a piece of toast. I could ask him about the Jewish people, and his family in Wales, and why God lets bad things happen to innocent people. He knows practically everything, because he’s read tons of books on all kinds of subjects like religion, politics, engineering, history, astronomy, Greek myths, and art. He’s interested in everything. He even likes the Beatles, which is really good for someone his age, but I think he prefers classical music really, or the old songs he used to dance to with Mum.
I don’t want to think about what Mum might say if she could see me today, so I try not to. I reckon she’s around somewhere though, so I say hello to her in my heart and tell her I miss her. I feel some tears stinging my eyes, so I make myself think about Davy Jones.
It’s time now for the sixth form to go down to the crypt where Johnny’s buried. Rather them than me, even though he did write me a nice letter. We stay in the cathedral with the organ playing and candles burning, getting colder and colder and hungrier and hungrier. The ceiling’s so high you can hardly even see it, and the stained-glass windows are massive. I look at Jesus on the Cross and Mary at His feet. I still don’t really understand why He died to save us. I mean, if He’s not around any more, what can He do? And when you look at all the terrible things that happen, earthquakes, volcanoes, shipwrecks, car crashes, murders, Aberfan, the Jews, slaves, beheadings, the Spanish Inquisition, well you have to say it didn’t work, did it?
Realising what a bad thought that is I quickly put my head down and start to pray.
‘Have you seen your dad yet?’ Laura whispers in my ear.
I open my eyes. ‘No. Have you seen your mum?’
‘Yes, she’s right at the back with my dad. I’m dying for the loo and I’m starving. Did you bring any sweets?’
I shake my head. My box in the tuck cupboard is empty, so I won’t have anything until the weekend, providing Dad gives me some money today. I hope he’s here. If that stupid car’s broken down again I’ll go mad.
Eddie
We managed to get here just in the nick of time. With Florrie not being able to walk very far, I dropped her outside the cathedral then drove round the back of the Council House to park. By the time I got back the Dean was leading everyone outside, so we missed the service, which is a great shame, but at least we’re here on the green where the other parents are gathering, ready for when the girls come out.
‘Glad I put my big coat on,’ Florrie murmurs as I join her. ‘Flipping cold out this morning, and it won’t be doing me chilblains any good, standing here in all this damp grass.’
‘Move over there,’ I say, edging her towards the pavement. ‘It’ll help keep your feet dry.’ I recognise her boots with their fur trim and zip top. They used to belong to Eddress. I think her gloves did too, and her burgundy handbag. They still look smart, so they’re probably the best ones she has. She could do with a new coat though, because in all the winters I’ve known her I’ve never seen her in anything but the brown mohair one she has on now.
Still, at least the rain’s gone off, and the wind’s dying down a bit. I wish we’d been here in time to see them arriving in their Founder’s Day uniforms. Bloody car. I’ll have to stop relying on it in future and catch the bus. The main thing is though that it got us here, in the end. We broke down twice on the way, so heaven only knows how we’ll manage to get back, but I’ll worry about that when the time comes.
The cathedral green is starting to fill up with Red Maids now, swarming all over and looking as pretty as pictures in their sprightly straw bonnets and capes. I spotted a TWW van further down the road, so the television people must be around somewhere. Our Gary’s so excited about seeing Susan on telly that I’m not sure what I’ll do with him if we don’t. Something else I’ll worry about later.
‘There she is,’ Florrie cries, pointing through the crowd. ‘Yoohoo! Susan! Here we are, over here!’
A few heads turn to see who’s shouting. I can see they don’t approve, so I give them a cheery smile and open my arms to welcome my girl.
‘No, don’t do that,’ Susan whispers, keeping her head down and pushing my arms away. ‘Everyone’s looking.’
‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ Florrie tells her. ‘Everyone’s giving their mums and dads a kiss. Come on now, let’s be having you.’
‘Ssh,’ Susan says through her teeth. ‘Don’t talk so loud.’
‘What? What did she say, Eddie?’
‘Nothing. It’s all right. Doesn’t she look lovely?’
Florrie gets our Susan’s face between her hands and tilts it up. ‘Oh, I’m so proud of you,’ she beams. ‘I wish your mother could see you all grown up and a proper lady.’
‘Gran,’ Susan hisses. This is all much too embarrassing for her, and I’m not at all sure what to make of it. I suppose it’s a part of growing up, and only to be expected, but I can see that Florrie’s baffled and starting to feel a bit hurt.
‘Isn’t it lovely that your gran made it today?’ I say cheerily. ‘This is the furthest she’s been in months, and all to see you.’
As intended, my remark hooks into Susan’s conscience, because she looks a bit sheepish as she says, ‘Yes, it’s cool,’ then to my relief I see her hand snake into Florrie’s. ‘Are you coming back to school?’ she asks.
‘What?’ Florrie shouts.
Susan looks at me helplessly. She’s obviously torn between loving her gran and feeling shown up by her, though I can’t see anyone taking any notice myself. I give her a wink that makes her roll her eyes and smile. ‘What’s that about going back to school?’ I ask.
‘All the parents are invited straight after the cathedral,’ she answers. ‘I told you, Dad. There’s tea and cakes and everything.’
Oh dear, this isn’t good news. I have to get back to work, or I’m going to lose even more money, but the look on her face has me saying, ‘Of course we’re coming back, aren’t we, Gran? We’re looking forward to it.’ I smile encouragingly. ‘Tea and cakes,’ I shout, so Florrie’s got some idea of what’s going on.
‘Oh, yes please to a cuppa,’ she answers. ‘Look at all these people, Ed. They’re proper upper class, with all their fur coats and smart suits, aren’t they? One woman over there’s even got a fur hat. You don’t see many of them round our way, do you?’
Sensing our Susan cringing again I keep my voice down as I say to her, ‘Your gran’s having the time of her life being here. It meant the world that you asked her to come.’
‘I wish she’d keep her voice down a bit,’ Susan complains.
‘I know, but she’s not doing any harm. Now, what happened about the letter from Johnny? You were all worked up about it when I saw you last Sunday …’
‘It came!’ she cries, her eyes sparkling with delight. ‘And he says that I’m a good friend to all the girls and that everyone likes me.’
‘Aha!’ I laugh, wanting to hug her, but managing not to. ‘Wait till I tell Gary. He’s been going on about that letter all week. You’ll have to bring it home with you on Sunday so we can put it somewhere safe.’
Her face falls.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘Nothing,’ she mumbles. ‘Only that …’
I miss what she says next because someone’s making an announcement, telling us all that it’s time to start back to the
school.
‘Girls whose parents aren’t here go to the bus, please,’ the teacher shouts, clapping her hands to scurry them along. ‘The rest of you count yourselves lucky and be back in thirty minutes.’
‘Where’s the car?’ Susan asks.
‘Just round the corner,’ I tell her. ‘Gran’s wrapped up some sandwiches for us, so we can have a bit of a picnic on the way. Are you ready, Florrie?’
‘Bloody right I am,’ she grumbles. ‘I’m catching me death here in this cold. Fancy making us stand outside in November. You’d think they’d know better.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ a very chilly-looking woman pipes up. ‘My hands are turning blue and I can’t even feel my feet.’
Startled to find such a posh-sounding person addressing her, Florrie’s lost for words.
‘I’m Eddie Lewis,’ I say, holding out a hand to shake. ‘Susan’s dad.’
‘Oh, hello Mr Lewis,’ the woman says charmingly as she takes my hand. ‘Rita Barker-North. My husband’s around somewhere, Tom. Julia Barker-North’s ours. Fifth form. Seabreake.’
‘I don’t think h’ive met ’er,’ I say, tripping over my words and sounding just like our Susan. ‘Susan’s only in first year. Speedwell.’
Mrs Barker-North looks down at Susan, who’s gone as red as a beetroot. ‘Hello dear,’ she says, giving her a chuck under the chin. ‘I suppose this is your first Founder’s bash. Hope you’re enjoying it in spite of the cold. Ah, there’s Julia. Do excuse me,’ and she was gone.
‘What a lovely woman,’ Florrie gushes. ‘So polite, talking to us. Oh, Susan, you’re in the right place here, my girl. Your mother knew what she was doing when she got you to sit those exams.’
‘Can we go now?’ Susan begs. ‘I’m starving, and if you’ve got some sandwiches …’
It takes a while to reach the car, with Florrie not being too steady on her legs, but the rain keeps off and when we get there we find I’m parked next to a hot-air grille so she hikes up her dress to catch some warmth while I get the starting handle out. Now she’s out of sight of her friends Susan seems much less self-conscious, and dives into the car to tuck into the fish-paste sandwiches dear old Florrie had thought to make for my dinner.
Inky, pinky, plonkey, Daddy bought a donkey. I don’t half wish I had, because I reckon it’d be a darned sight more reliable than this temperamental rust heap I’ve got here. I can see our Susan’s face through the window, starting to look worried, and Florrie’s staring off into space either pretending she’s not with us, or that everything’s normal and all right.
I give another turn of the handle, and another and another. Then, lo and behold, the blessed thing catches.
‘Quick,’ I say to Florrie, ‘jump in before it stops again.’
Susan’s already in the back seat, so fast as she can Florrie piles herself into the front, and with some grinding and whirring I force the old girl into gear and start to ease forward. This wouldn’t be the time to lose the clutch.
Well, what do you know, here we are, chugging in through the school gates having made it all the way up Park Street and across the Downs. I have to admit I don’t like the noise she’s making much, and I can see that our poor Susan’s mortified, but at least we’re here.
‘We’re like the Beverly Hillbillies,’ Susan grumbles, as I pull up alongside a spanking new S-type Jaguar that must have cost upwards of a thousand quid. Better not get too close. I can already hear my old Betsy hissing and popping with envy! Don’t want her going into the attack and landing us all in debt, or jail.
‘Well, I’m damned if they haven’t got us all standing around outside again,’ Florrie protests.
The engine’s still running. I’m afraid to turn it off, certain if I do that it’ll never start again, and the way I’m parked now the Jaguar’s well and truly boxed in. Knowing our Susan’ll never forgive me if one of her friends’ dads has to help me push our old banger, I drive on towards the stall they’ve set up to serve tea.
‘I’ll wait in the car while you go and get a cuppa, if that’s all right, Ed,’ Florrie says. ‘I can’t take any more of the cold.’
‘Where are you going to stop, Dad?’ Susan asks, sounding anxious. ‘You’re too close, Dad. Dad, stop!’
‘It’s all right, don’t worry,’ I tell her. ‘I’m just parking here so your gran doesn’t have too far to walk.’
Susan
I have never, ever, ever, felt so embarrassed in all my life.
Gran’s still in our car which is the oldest and scruffiest one here, and parked halfway up a bank right next to where everyone’s having tea. No one can miss it, especially as the engine’s still grinding and coughing. Gran’s sitting in the passenger seat with her feet on the grass, waiting patiently while Dad and I go to get her some tea. I’m so upset that I can’t look anyone in the face. I know they’re all laughing their heads off, or sneering, or deliberately turning their backs, and I don’t blame them, even though I hate them.
I don’t want to be here.
I wish I was dead.
What makes it worse is that Dad’s embarrassed too and keeps apologising.
‘I don’t mean to let you down, my love,’ he says, ‘but we’re not doing any harm where we are. No one’s asked us to move.’
‘You didn’t have to come so close,’ I mutter through my teeth. ‘You nearly knocked Miss Hunter over, and Dotty’s giving you really dirty looks.’ I don’t know if she is, because I can’t bear to look up, but she definitely might be.
‘Su Lu, Su Lu!’
It’s Sadie coming our way. I want to feel pleased, but I think I’m going to cry.
‘Hi,’ she says, bouncing up to us and amazing me as she holds out a hand to shake Dad’s. ‘I’m Sadie Hicks,’ she informs him. ‘Second form, same dorm as Su. Did she tell you about the really cool letter she had from Johnny last night?’
‘Yes, she did,’ Dad answers, shaking Sadie’s hand as though she’s an adult.
‘We all think she’s amazing,’ Sadie bubbles on. ‘And we love your car. I wish my dad had one like that.’
No, you don’t, I’m thinking. Why is she saying that? She’s just mocking, and that’s horrible.
‘Tell him he’s more than welcome to that old pile of trouble,’ Dad says, turning round to have a look at it.
I sneak a quick look myself, and it’s so embarrassing that I want the ground to suck me up and shoot me straight to Australia. No one else’s car is hanging off the edge of the hockey field, and no one else’s gran has got their false teeth out so they can give their gums a bit of a smack.
‘Su Lu!’ Cheryl cries, coming to join us. ‘Hello Mr Lewis. It’s very nice to see you.’ There’s a small gang of other girls with her, first and second form.
‘And to see you, Cheryl,’ he smiles, pleasing me that he remembers her name.
‘Have you seen Su’s letter?’ Cheryl asks. ‘It’s one of the nicest ones Johnny’s ever sent.’
‘No, but I’m looking forward to it,’ he tells her. ‘And how’s Cliff these days? I haven’t seen him on Top of the Pops lately.’
My mouth nearly drops open. How did he remember that she loves Cliff?
Cheryl’s cheeks turn rosy. ‘He hasn’t had a new record out for a while,’ she explains, ‘but he’s still my favourite. We all love him, don’t we?’ she says to the others.
‘No!’ most of them shout.
‘The Beatles.’
‘The Stones.’
‘Manfred Mann.’
‘Davy Jones.’
‘The Box Tops.’
Everyone’s shouting at once, and they’re all shouting at my dad! He’s right in the middle of everything, and he looks quite small in some ways, because he’s not very tall, but really tall in others. I don’t quite understand what’s happening, but then he says, ‘I have to take a cup of tea to Susan’s gran.’
‘I can do it,’ Cheryl offers.
‘I can,’ Sadie says.
‘No, me.’
‘Where is she?’
‘Over there, in the car,’ and everyone turns to look.
Gran’s putting her teeth back in, and I’m suddenly afraid that someone’s going to say something mean about her, so I quickly find Dad’s hand and give it a tug. I don’t mind if I think he and Gran are embarrassing, but if anyone thinks they can get away with mocking them I’ll punch them so hard they’ll fly straight down the tunnel under Dot’s study and won’t be able to get back up again.
‘Mr Lewis.’
This is a different voice, and one I know even before I turn round. I’ve gone all stiff now, because Seaweed’s on the rampage and I know what she wants.
All the girls step aside to let her through, some of them poking out their tongues behind her back, others holding up crossed fingers to show they’re wishing me good luck.
‘Mr Lewis, can I have a word, please?’ Seaweed asks. She’s like Uriah Heep, all smiley and slithery and pretending to be nice when she’s absolutely foul.
‘Yes, of course, Miss Sayward,’ he replies. ‘Susan, take Gran a cup of tea, there’s a good girl. Two sugars, and if there’s a biscuit I expect she’d like one or two.’
I go off, leaving them to talk, feeling miserable and stupid and wishing I could hide myself away somewhere, but pleased too by the way everyone’s grouping around me.
‘Do you think your dad’s going to be angry?’ Laura whispers.
