One Day at a Time

by Susan Lewis

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Susan

  I’M ONLY IN Miss Fisher’s office sitting on a chair in front of her desk, while she stares at me through her flick-up glasses. Her hands are folded together, and the sun’s streaming in through the window like magical rays – I’m hoping they’ll make her disappear, or turn her into a frog, or better still a handsome prince to whisk me away to a palace. Everyone’s scared of her, including me.

  ‘Do you happen to know if your father received the letter I sent him a couple of weeks ago?’ she asks.

  ‘No, miss,’ I reply. ‘He hasn’t said anything.’

  ‘Can we be sure that you didn’t intercept it? In case you don’t know what that word means …’

  ‘I know what it means and no, I didn’t intercept it.’ Bloody cheek! I mean, I know I do try to get to the detention letters before he does, but she doesn’t know that, so she’s got no right accusing me.

  ‘So you’re not aware that there are certain members of staff who would rather you were no longer at this school?’ she goes on.

  I feel a flush of embarrassment – and anger – spread over my face. No, but I don’t care,’ I tell her stroppily.

  She gives a sigh. ‘Then perhaps it’s lucky for you that others do. This will be your last chance, so I’m hoping you won’t let me down.’

  Since she didn’t ask a question, I don’t say anything, but I don’t like the fact that no one wants me here. It’s horrible. I hate them all anyway.

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s in any doubt that you have a great deal of potential,’ she drones on, ‘but we’re not having much success in persuading you to show it in the right ways. Is it of no interest to you to do well, to come top of the class even, in subjects you like?’

  ‘I don’t want people calling me teacher’s pet,’ I tell her.

  She heaves another sigh and shakes her head. ‘For an intelligent girl that was a particularly stupid reply,’ she informs me. ‘I expect more of you.’

  I feel my mouth go tight, but I’m too afraid to cheek her back, so I let the insult pass.

  ‘You have some strong leadership qualities that are not currently being put to their best use. So, do you have any suggestions as to how we might change that?’

  I’m startled, because she genuinely seems to be asking my advice. But then I think it must be a trick question, because teachers never ask our advice. She’s obviously waiting for an answer though, and I don’t want her calling me stupid again, so I give it some thought before I say, ‘I think I would make a good prefect.’ That would make everyone laugh, but I’m serious, I think I would, and to my amazement Miss Fisher’s only starting to nod.

  ‘I’m not going to argue with that,’ she tells me, ‘because you could well be right, and that answer was far more worthy of you than the nonsense about not wanting to be called teacher’s pet. However, the position of prefect has to be earned with good behaviour and excellent marks, so I’m sure you’ll agree it wouldn’t be fair on those who work hard and who deserve to be recognised for their efforts, if we gave you a badge and put you in charge of a class. Do you have any other suggestions?’

  I suppose her answer makes sense, but it wouldn’t half show those stuck-up old cows who think they’re it with all their gold stars and glowing reports if I did get to tell them what to do. I’d really love watching them suffer, but I suppose it’s not going to happen, and since Miss Fisher’s asked a question this time, and the answer is I don’t have any other suggestions, I shake my head.

  ‘For the moment neither do I,’ she admits, ‘but this is what I’m proposing we do while we try to come up with something. Instead of attending PE for the last period on Wednesday afternoons where Miss Perry tells me you’re extremely unco-operative, I want you to report here to me so we can have a chat about how things are going with your other lessons.’

  I immediately baulk, and really, really wish I had the guts to tell her to get lost, but I don’t, so I can only purse my lips to let her know that I think it’s a rubbish idea.

  ‘Right, so that’s settled,’ she says, getting to her feet. ‘I’ll expect you for our first chat tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock. Don’t be late.’

  Regally dismissed, I traipse off out of her office and go to find Lainey and the others in the playground. I barely have time to tell them what happened before the bell goes for the end of break and we have to go different ways, because they’re all in C group for maths and I’m still stuck in A. I really thought I’d have gone down at least one group this year, but I didn’t, so I’ll just have to stop answering the questions in tests, because it’s not as if I pay attention in class, it’s just that I’ve done a lot of the work before, at Red Maids.

  I go to fetch my books from my locker, then shuffle off to the lesson, making sure I’m the last to arrive just to show Mrs Brain that I don’t want to be there. She waits till I’m sitting down at the back, then taking out her chalk she starts to write on the board.

  Bloody hell. It’s only bloody logarithms. Well, I’m not listening to all that crap, so I take out a pencil and start doodling things in the back of my book.

  I’m wondering if Mrs Brain’s one of the teachers who wants to expel me. I’ve never had an especially big row with her, but she’s given me a few punishment marks for messing around in class, and a detention once for locking her in the stationery cupboard. Anyway, I’m sure she doesn’t like me, because nobody does, and frankly I couldn’t care less. I don’t want to be here anyway, except I suppose I’d miss Lainey and the others who are my only real friends now I don’t go round with Mandy any more.

  I had a note from Mandy after the night Kev kicked Lucky, asking me to meet her round by the Anchor, but I didn’t bother to go. I’ve decided I’m not speaking to her again after that, and though I still love Kev I won’t be speaking to him again either.

  Or to Dad, after what he did.

  He keeps going on that Gran wants to have a chat with me, but I know I’m in for a lecture so I’m trying not to go up and see her. I wonder if he told her what he did to himself. If he did I expect she blames me. Every time I think that, the screaming inside me starts up and it’s horrible, frightening. It makes me want to run away and hide and never come out again. I know I was being cheeky and he was mad about Mum’s ring, but he shouldn’t have attacked himself like that. His face is still bruised and the cut on his mouth hasn’t healed yet. I really hope he never does it again or he’ll end up being carted off down Barrow Gurney to live with the loonies and I don’t want him to leave us, I really, really don’t.

  I love my dad more than I love anyone else in the whole wide world.

  He made us turn the whole house upside down at the weekend looking for the ring, just in case it was still there somewhere, but we didn’t find it. I hid in my bedroom after, afraid that he might start punching himself again, but when I crept down to find out what he was doing he was sitting in the front room with his head in his hands. It frightened me to see him like that and I wanted to shout at him to stop, but I didn’t let on I was there. Instead, I just crept out again and went to find Lucky.

  ‘Why did you take the ring?’ Gary whispered as I came into the dining room.

  ‘Don’t you start,’ I snapped.

  ‘It wasn’t yours, so you were stealing.’

  ‘I’ll thump you if you don’t shut up,’ I seethed.

  ‘And I’ll thump you back.’

  I didn’t really want to have a fight, so I went back upstairs, taking Lucky with me, and lay on the bed. She hasn’t been very well again lately, seeming all lifeless, and I’m worried it might have something to do with how hard Kev kicked her. She had a fit last night, which really scared me the way she fell over on her side, shaking and foaming at the mouth and looking like a raging wild beast. Dad pulled me away to stop me from being bitten, and when she finally calmed down he picked her up and carried her over to her basket. Gary and I sat with her for ages after, stroking her and telling her
she mustn’t worry that she made a mess, because no one was cross. In the end she managed to get up again, and when she pawed the back door to go out Dad came for a walk too. Fortunately, by the time we’d gone round the block a couple of times she seemed to be more her old self again.

  I’ve just come in from school now and Gary’s all upset because Lucky’s had another fit.

  ‘It frightened him,’ Mrs Bees, our home help, tells me, ‘but you’ll be all right in a minute, won’t you, my old love,’ she says, patting his back.

  Ignoring Gary I go straight to Lucky’s basket, where she’s looking all dopey and half asleep. She knows me straight away though, and tries to give me a lick.

  ‘I think you’ll have to take her to the vet,’ Mrs Bees advises, coming to stand over us.

  I’m trying with all my might not to cry, so I keep my head down as I manage to say, ‘I don’t know where one is.’

  ‘Mm, no, nor me,’ she sighs, ‘but I expect we’ll find someone who does. Or, I’ll tell you what, let’s go round the phone box and have a look in the Yellow Pages. I can give them a ring then and make an appointment, because I expect you’ll need one.’

  ‘I want to stay with Lucky,’ I tell her.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Gary offers.

  By the time they get back Lucky’s up on her feet again and having a drink. She even jumps up on Gary, and gives him a lick.

  ‘They can’t fit her in tonight,’ Mrs Bees tells me, ‘but they said you can take her tomorrow morning at half past ten.’

  I know I’m supposed to be going to school, but Lucky’s much more important, so I’ll either take the day off, or I’ll go in the afternoon provided the vet’s given her something to make her better. Come to think of it, I have to go in the afternoon because Miss Fisher’s expecting me for our first cosy chat.

  ‘Can you come with me to the vet?’ I ask Dad when he gets home.

  ‘No, my love,’ he replies. ‘I can’t take the time off at the moment.’

  I look down at Lucky, and my eyes fill up with tears, even though she’s looking all chirpy and happy. ‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her really, do you?’ I say. ‘Perhaps I won’t go.’

  By the time we’re ready for bed Lucky’s had another fit, so I ask Dad if she can sleep with me. For once he says yes, and carries her basket upstairs while I take one step at a time with her, until she regains her balance and starts to sniff around my room, seeming happy to be there.

  After Dad’s turned the light out she creeps out of her basket and climbs on to the bed, so we snuggle up together to go to sleep. I really love her, and it’s upsetting me a lot to think that she’s not very well, but at least she doesn’t seem too bad now.

  During the night she has another fit and makes such a mess of my bed that I have to go and sleep in Gary’s room, while he goes in with Dad. Lucky’s allowed to stay upstairs, but out on the landing in case the same thing happens. When Dad’s disappeared into his room I take Gary’s eiderdown and go to lie down with Lucky to keep her warm.

  It’s morning now and Dad’s just gone off to work. Lucky didn’t have any more fits in the night, but he said I should take her to the vet anyway, and he gave me five pounds in case I have to pay, because we don’t think dogs are covered by the National Health. He also gave me some change for the bus fare, because the vet’s down Speedwell which is too far to walk, with her not being well.

  Dogs have to ride upstairs on the bus, so the conductor helps me take her up, and then she has another fit on the top deck with everyone watching. Nobody says anything though, except the conductor who pats my head and tells me not to worry, he won’t charge me for the fare today.

  I sit on the edge of a seat with Lucky on the floor in the gangway. A woman has to step over her in order to get past, and she mutters something about ‘girls your age should be at school.’

  I want to tell her to fuck off, but Lucky’s struggling to her feet, so I ignore the woman and clasp Lucky round the face. ‘Are you all right?’ I whisper. ‘We’ll be there soon and the vet will make you better again.’

  ‘Are you going to see Ralph Carson?’ an old man asks.

  Recognising the vet’s name, I nod.

  ‘He’s a good bloke. I’ve known him for years. Me and the missus always took our cats to him. Wouldn’t never go anywhere else.’

  When it comes time to get off Lucky nearly drags me down the stairs, which makes me feel a lot better, because she’s obviously not feeling so bad any more.

  In the vet’s waiting room there’s a woman with a hamster in a cage, and a policeman with a great big Alsatian dog that has a bandage on its foot. I expect the policeman to ask me why I’m not at school, but he’s reading a paper and doesn’t seem to be taking much notice of anyone else. Lucky growls at the Alsatian, but it ignores her, so she settles down at my feet and goes to sleep.

  After a few minutes an old lady comes out of the vet’s office with a budgie in a cage, and the woman with the hamster is called in next. When she’s finished the receptionist is just telling the policeman to go through when Lucky starts to have another fit.

  ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ the receptionist says, coming round her desk. ‘Poor little thing. She’s epileptic, is she?’

  I look at her blankly, not knowing what that is.

  ‘Let them go next,’ the policeman offers. ‘I don’t mind waiting.’

  ‘I’ll get Mr Carson,’ the receptionist says.

  When the vet comes out he squats down next to Lucky, putting a hand gently on her head as the fit starts to pass. ‘There’s a good girl,’ he murmurs. ‘That’s all better now, is it? Yes, I think so. Shall we take her into my office?’

  I watch him pick her up and follow them into the next room, where he lies her on his operating table, then closes the door.

  ‘How long has she been having the fits?’ he asks as he starts to examine her teeth and eyes.

  ‘Just for a few days,’ I reply.

  ‘Has she had many?’

  ‘About, um, six or seven.’

  ‘I see.’ He sticks something up her bum, then puts his stethoscope over her heart. When he’s finished that, he checks her eyes again, and smiles as she tries to give him a lick. She’s all groggy, the way she usually is after a fit.

  ‘Someone kicked her last week,’ I tell him. Do you think that might be what’s caused it?’

  He looks at me with his kind grey eyes. ‘No, that’s not what caused it,’ he replies. ‘Tell me, did you have her vaccinated after you got her?’

  I don’t know what he means, so I shake my head.

  ‘Mm, I thought not. I’m afraid, my dear, that your dog has distemper.’

  I’ve got no idea what that is, but my chest is going all tight, like it’s a fist trying to clench. ‘What’s that?’ I manage to ask.

  ‘It’s a virus that’s a bit like measles, but it has a different effect on a dog.’

  ‘She’s going to be all right, is she?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. The best thing you can do for her now is let me put her to sleep.’

  I feel like he’s hit me, because I know exactly what that means, and I’m not going to let him do it. I look at Lucky. She’s looking at me, and I start to cry. ‘Please don’t take her away,’ I beg him. ‘Please, please. I want her to stay with me.’

  ‘There, there,’ Mr Carson says, patting my head. ‘Where’s your mum? She should have come with you really.’

  ‘She can’t,’ I sob, ‘she’s dead.’

  ‘Oh dear, dear,’ he murmurs. ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t we ask my secretary to make us a nice cup of tea, and then we’ll decide the best thing to do?’

  I’m at school now. I had to come in because I have to spend the last period with Miss Fisher, otherwise I’d have gone straight home. Or up Gran’s, or down Dad’s factory to wait for him to come out. Anywhere really, except here.

  It’s break time, and I’m sitting outside the office with Lainey
and Tina and a few of the others, who are being really kind and comforting about Lucky. Some of them even cried, because they loved her too. The vet explained to me that she would only get worse and worse and it would be cruel to make her suffer, so I ought to let her go. I wanted to scream at him and hit him and tell him to leave her alone, but I was sobbing too hard for any words to come out. In the end, I gave her a great big kiss and told her I was going to wait outside while the vet gave her an injection to take away the pain. I wished he could give me one too so I could die with her. When he came out I wanted to run away – run and run and run and never, ever come back.

  It wasn’t until I got to school and took off my coat that I realised I still had the fiver Dad gave me scrunched up in my pocket. I expect he’ll take it to the vet tomorrow to pay what we owe. It seems really wrong to think that we have to pay for Lucky to die.

  I don’t want Lucky to be dead. Please let her be there when I get home.

  ‘Susan Lewis! Is that you?’

  We all look up to see Mrs Baron, the dragon of a music teacher, thundering towards us. Everyone hates her, and most of us are scared of her, but I don’t feel very scared of anyone today. In fact, I couldn’t really care less who she is, or what she’s got to say.

  ‘On your feet, girl,’ she snaps at me.

  I stand up and rest my weight on one leg.

  She’s so angry that her face is twitching and I think her glasses might be starting to steam up. God knows what I’m supposed to have done, but it looks like she’s about to tell me.

  ‘Where were you this morning?’ she demands. ‘You were supposed to be in my lesson, and just for you, because you never stop going on about it, we were going to discuss pop, only you didn’t bother to turn up. We all bend over backwards for you, my girl, and you don’t damn well deserve it. You’re selfish, arrogant, disobedient and disrespectful and I’m …’

  ‘I didn’t come in because my dog died,’ I shout at her.

  ‘Don’t lie!’ she shouts back, and she slaps me so hard across the face that I see stars.