The Girl from Hard Times Hill (3 page)

It was Nana that spotted me.

‘Here she is! Here's our Megan!'

‘Hello,' I said. For some reason, I suddenly felt shy. I just stood there, scuffing my feet on the lino.

Dad turned at once to look at me. I'd recognized him all right – but it seemed like it took him a moment to recognize
me
. I felt suddenly all awkward and gawky, very aware of how tall I've got in the last year, and how none of my clothes fit right. Nana had said they'd have to ‘do' until we could save our pennies to get new ones.

‘Megan!' He held his arms out. I walked slowly across the floor.

Dad passed Barbara to Mum, then made to swing me up, but stopped. ‘You
have
grown,' he said. He sounded surprised. Then he gave me a hug instead. He tweaked one of my plaits, in a way that I hate (Shirley is
always
doing it) and peered down into my face. ‘I left a little girl – and find this young lady!'

I muttered something.

‘Look, Megan!' Shirley crowed. ‘My present!'

It was a teddy bear – a gorgeous one, with soft velvet paws and an embroidered smile. I'd have liked it, I admit, even though I'm eleven.

‘And Barb's got a new coat,' said Shirley. ‘And Mummy's got some sweets she likes, and Nana has hankies and – '

I felt really hurt that they had all opened their presents without waiting for me.

Dad coughed. ‘I've something for you, Megan, but I wonder…well anyway, here it is.'

I took the package and pulled off the paper. A doll. A baby doll, with yellow curls, blue eyes and a white dress. Beautiful, but…it's been
ages
since I played with dolls.

‘Lovely,' Nana said. ‘What do you say, Megan?' ‘Thank you,' I whispered.

Dad said, ‘When I bought that, I hadn't realized how grown-up you were now. I think you're maybe a bit old for it?'

‘Maybe just a little…' I caught sight of Mum frowning at me.

‘She's wonderful!' Shirley touched my doll's cheek tenderly.

‘Shirley will enjoy playing with it, anyhow,' said Mum rather crossly.

It didn't seem very fair that Shirley should get a doll
and
a teddy. But I didn't say anything. I could see Mum thought I was ungrateful, but it wasn't my fault that Dad had forgotten how old I was.

‘And here's something I brought for all of us. Try some of this!' Dad was rummaging in his knapsack. Finally he produced what he was looking for. We all stared at it.

‘What's that?' Shirley asked.

‘It's a banana, stupid,' I said. I knew that much. I'd occasionally seen other children eating them but I'd never tried one myself.

‘Oh. D'you mean you eat it?'

‘'Course you do – if you're a monkey.'

Dad laughed. ‘And even if you're a little girl. Come on, my three little monkeys. Want to try a piece?'

I didn't like being called a monkey. (The Littlies
are
monkeys, I have to admit.) And although I know what a banana looks like, I wasn't about to taste one, either.

‘No, thanks.'

Dad just laughed. ‘Go on, Megan.'

I took a little piece. It was all I could do not to spit it out.

‘Yuk! I don't like it.'

Shirley didn't like it either. And as for Barbara – Barbara
did
spit her piece out, all over Dad's shoulder.

‘You ungrateful children!' Mum laughed and ate a piece herself, but she looked annoyed. Nana ate some too. As for Grandpa – there wasn't any left by that time. But he said he didn't mind.

‘A nice, crunchy apple is fine with me.'

Dad shook his head. ‘To think of the care I've taken of that blessed banana, wrapping it up in my socks to make sure it didn't get squashed!'

‘Oooh!' yelled Shirley. ‘You wrapped it in your
socks
.'

‘Adds flavour,' he said, grinning.

Nana said, ‘Now, Bob – '

‘Don't worry – they were clean socks!'

Shirley went on making faces, but Dad just leant over and ruffled her hair.

Grandpa went to get Dad's suitcase in, then, and to shut the front door. (‘To think it's been open all the time', said Nana, ‘letting in a draught.') Nana took the kettle off the range to brew a pot of tea. Mum kept fussing over Dad, and showing him how Barbara could walk now. Then Dad started doing tricks for Shirley, Barbara and me. He took a coin out from behind
Barbara's ear, and pretended to take his thumb off. He always used to do these tricks, and I remember loving them, just the way the Littlies do now. But somehow this time I couldn't get that excited: I
knew
it was a coin from his pocket, and I could see that he just had his thumb bent back when he pretended to take it off.

I did my best. I laughed, or tried to. But I'm not a very good actor. (I
never
get picked for school plays.)

‘Look!' Dad wiggled his ears at me. I laughed politely. ‘Want me to teach you?' he asked.

‘Not really. It must be nice, though,' I added.

Dad looked a bit puzzled. I suppose Shirley would think it hilarious, somebody wiggling their ears, but you would have thought he would realize I was a bit old for that. Suddenly there was a lump in my throat. I swallowed and looked away.

I edged over to Mum. ‘Do you think I could go and see Pam?' I whispered.

‘Megan! When your dad's just got home!'

She turned away, and I didn't have a chance to explain. So I went to help Nana with the teacups. But my face was hot with shame and anger. It wasn't fair for Mum to be cross. The only reason I wanted to see Pam was to explain about the grammar school – so that she wouldn't still be thinking that I might pass
the Eleven Plus and leave her to go to Secondary on her own. Anyway, as Dad obviously found the Littlies more fun than me, he wouldn't miss me.

Everything was changing, I thought gloomily, as I set out teacups and tried not to slop the milk. New schools, Dad coming home, arguments with friends. I wasn't sure I liked it.

The next day I cornered Pam in the school playground.

‘Listen,' I said, ‘I'm not going to the stupid Grammar, so stop being angry!'

‘That's what you
say
,' said Pam. ‘But if Miss Bulmer says you are – '

‘I'm going to fail the exam,' I told her. ‘If I do as badly as I can, there'll be nothing she can do about it.'

‘Oh.' Pam still looked doubtful. She scuffed her feet. ‘Why didn't you come and say so yesterday, then? I was miserable, and you never came to find me!'

‘I couldn't. They wouldn't let me go out.'

‘Why not?'

‘My dad came home from Germany.'

‘What!' Pam gazed at me. ‘Really?'

‘Cross my heart. He's not going back, either. He's home for good.'

‘Oh Megan – why didn't you say so before?' Pam flung her arms round me. ‘That's really exciting! Are you terribly happy?'

‘Yes, of course I am. Well, it does mean I have to share my room with Shirley now – and you can imagine what that's like. Awful.' I made a face. ‘Last night she kept kicking me, and then she needed to go in the night, and she knocked the chamber pot and it slopped right over the rug. I had to fetch Nana to help clean it up. And everyone keeps fussing over Dad, and I think he's forgotten how old I am…but of course, it's marvellous,' I added quickly.

Pam began dancing around the playground.

‘And now you'll never go to Germany, and we'll be best friends forever!'

‘Does that mean you won't go roller-skating without me?'

‘Oh.' Pam stopped with one leg in the air. ‘Hmm. Well. I do
really
like roller-skating.'

‘Yes, but what about me? I love roller-skating too! And Grandpa says my skates can't be mended, and it's ages till my birthday.'

Pam hesitated a moment. ‘I'll tell you what. Whenever we go roller-skating, you can have shares in my skates. Half the time I'll use them, and half the time you can. What do you think?'

‘Oh, Pam! That's really kind!'

There were tears in my eyes. I was so lucky to have such a good best friend.

I was a bit cooler with Davy when I saw him, though. He gave me a little smile when we were waiting to go into the classroom, but I ignored him.

As for Miss Bulmer – I felt her gimlet eye on me a few times, but I didn't take any notice. In fact I started whispering with Ann Evans, who sits next to me, and every time I caught Pam's eye across the aisle I started giggling, and in the spelling test I got three wrong, which is unusual for me. I thought I saw Miss Bulmer pursing her lips, but I didn't pay any attention. When I heard her stalking up the aisle though, I kept quiet. I didn't want a rap on the knuckles!

At dinner-time I went home as usual. I normally love dinner-time – Nana is a good cook, and Mum makes sure that the Littlies behave for once, and
Grandpa comes in from work and often Uncle Harry does too. Everyone always asks me what happened at school that morning. But today all the grown-ups were just talking, talking, talking with Dad the whole time.

‘Do you think they really need all this help we're giving them,' Uncle Harry asked Dad, ‘when we're still so short of everything here?' He meant the Germans. Dad looked serious and started talking about how bad things were in Germany, and then all the grown-ups started on about rationing, and when (if ever) things might get easier.

‘Of course, they weren't any easier before the War – and I'd rather have rationing than the Great Depression,' said Nana tartly. I couldn't remember those times. I cleared my plate as quickly as I could, and escaped back to school.

Still, I began to get used to Dad being around. I didn't spend much time with him, as aunties and uncles and old friends kept dropping by to see him, so there were often grown-ups sitting round the kitchen table,
chatting and smoking and drinking cups of tea, while music played on the radio.

Then again, quite often he and Mum would go out. I'd have thought Nana would have got fed up of them going gallivanting, Dad in his suit and Mum in her prettiest, least patched frock, and leaving the Littlies behind, but she didn't say so. Maybe she thought they deserved a treat.

One day I was walking back from the Hill alone. Pam had run on ahead, because she hadn't done her jobs at home, and I was so busy thinking about the last race that I didn't pay attention and walked straight into somebody coming out of the fish and chip shop on the corner.

‘I'm sorry,' I said, and then I heard laughter and looked up.

‘Don't you recognize your own father?'

I could feel myself blush. ‘Sorry, I didn't see you.'

‘No, you were away with the fairies. You alright, Megan? You look done in.'

‘I
am
tired,' I said. ‘But you see, Tom and me drew in the first round, and so we had to go again, and then Brian fell over after a cat ran out, so we had to do
that
round again and then – '

‘Hold on!' Dad interrupted. ‘First round of what?'

‘Roller-skating. We have races over at the Hill.' Dad scratched his head. ‘Magic roller skates, are they?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean, I can't see them. They must be invisible.'

‘Well,' I retorted, ‘I can't see any fish and chips, and you just came out of the chippy!'

Dad started to laugh and I found that I was laughing too. Then I explained that I always had to borrow Pam's roller skates and Dad explained that they were just putting a new batch of chips into the fryer, so that he'd had to wait.

‘Does Nana know?' I asked doubtfully. ‘We only ever have fish and chips on Fridays.'

‘She was persuaded,' Dad told me. ‘Anyway, today's a celebration.'

‘A celebration of what?'

‘You'll just have to wait and see,' said Dad with a wink. And he wouldn't tell me any more. ‘Meanwhile, you can help me carry the grub. Come on. We can take a stroll while we're waiting.'

We set off down the hill.

So why don't you have your own roller skates?' Dad asked as we headed towards the path to the railway bridge.

‘I did, but they broke.'

‘Have you still got them?'

‘Yes, but it's no good. Grandpa's already tried to mend them.'

‘I could take a look.'

‘Well – '

‘After all, I
am
a mechanic. I've spent over ten years of my life mending aeroplanes.'

I looked at him hopefully.

‘Do you think you could? It's awkward taking turns, and Pam's skates pinch my toes.'

Dad nodded. ‘Hooray!' I yelled. Then I felt Dad was laughing at me again, so I said quickly, ‘Did you go roller-skating when you were young?'

‘Never knew there were such things. Don't remember anyone having them.'