The Trouble with Polly Brown (13 page)

“I wish this line was quicker, for I'll bloomin' starve to death before long,” one boy loudly moaned.

“I bet by the time we get our dinner the only grub left will be braised liver casserole with slimy mildew cabbage,” another tall, spotty lad churlishly moaned.

“Oh, boy. I hope not, for I do so hate liver,” whined another.

“Well, you never know. We might be in luck and find there's still some hearty beef and vegetable stew left,” another lad merrily piped up.

“Oh, yuck! I absolutely loathe their overcooked vegetables, especially the carrots, for they always look far more like dog turds,” another plumpish boy added, giving a disgustingly loud belch that had all his school chums laughing out loud.

“Gross!” the other boys in the line cried out.

“Yeah, I'd rather have a couple of cheese and marmite sandwiches,” he moaned.

Polly grimaced as standing in line she was forced to listen to their gruesome and horridly visual descriptions.

“Well, as long as there's still some nice pud for dessert, then I really don't mind if the first course turns out to be kidneys with mashed spuds or rattlesnake pie with beans,” chipped in another chubby cheeked boy as he jostled his way into the queue.

“Don't get your high hopes up, for I'm fairly certain it's frog's spawn for pud,” a sandy-haired boy piped up.

“Frog's spawn?” another lad questioned.

“Yeah, mate. Tapioca pudding.”

“Oy, mate. We've been waiting here for ages, so don't push in,” another lad sniffed before giving him a friendly shove.

As Polly continued to listening in, she wondered if the boys would remain so fussy if they had the misfortune to live up at the castle. For as decent food was such a rarity, she considered every school meal to be a sumptuous treat that found her savoring every tiny morsel that passed between her lips to settle oh so briefly on her tongue. As she stood listening to the lads' bitter winging, she considered herself very fortunate that so far Uncle Boritz had never considered adding sheep's eyes to the list of cheap and cheerful foods that would not only prove cost efficient but would be greatly misrepresented as he informed the starving little mites of their most impressive nutritional value. Heaven forbid that such a revolting dish as stewed sheep eyeballs would surreptitiously find their way onto the castle menu, even if they were served up with lumpy mash, brown gravy, and accompanied by stodgy, undercooked dumplings!

Minutes later found Polly standing up at the serving hatch still nursing her wounded hand as with the other hand she impatiently waited to be handed a hot plate of food. “Hmm, nice. Lancashire hotpot,” she appreciatively murmured as she brought the plate right up to her nose before making a beeline for the cutlery station.

Out of the corner of her eye she suddenly noticed her younger brother, James, sitting alone, head down over an empty dinner plate and looking very rejected at the end of a long, rubbish strewn dinner table.

“Oh my goodness!” she cried as she suddenly remembered her commitment to him. This, of course, caused her to speed things up, as she desperately needed to catch up with him. With the necessary utensils clutched tightly in her hand, Polly wormed her way through the crowd of hungry students as she furiously attempted to reach his table.

Sadly, she was too late. Before she could get his attention he pushed his empty plate to one side and then stood up from where he was seated to head toward the nearest available exit. Polly, in her desperation, called out after him, but the noise in the room was far too loud for her brother to hear. She could only watch, helpless, as her younger brother departed the dining hall totally unaware that Polly had done all in her power to catch up with him and thereby fulfill her promise.

Polly let out a loud groan as rather despondently she dropped her plate onto the table nearest her before slumping miserably down on the first available seat. As she reached over toward the water jug, she heard a voice from behind that she recognized. “Hi, Polly. I hope you've reserved this seat for me.” Polly turned and looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see it was the face of the new boy who earlier in the day had introduced himself as Will.

“I thought you were joking when you said we would meet up again at lunchtime,” Polly openly admitted as he put his dinner plate down on the table next to hers before pulling up a chair in order to sit down beside her.

“Now, why would I do a thing like that?” he asked as he took hold of his fork and proceeded to tuck into a disgracefully large mountain of food piled high on his plate. “This grub may be lukewarm, but gosh isn't it good?” Will stated as he hungrily continued to devour everything in sight. “I'm ravenous. I swear I could easily eat a whole horse!”

I bet you could, followed closely by an overweight camel for desert
, Polly thought privately as she observed him gulping down extraordinarily large mouthfuls from his plate.

“You'd better slow down, or you'll find yourself suffering severe stomach cramps before the day is up,” she warned out of great concern.

Will dropped his fork onto his plate and laughed out loud. “All right then, Dr. Brown. I will slow down, but only if you agree to tell me more about yourself.”

Polly immediately stopped eating and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes, very,” came the swift reply. “I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about you,” he emphatically stated as he then gave her a slightly lopsided but impish grin.

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. And I think everything means leaving nothing out,” he said, giving a slow, wide grin that exposed his perfect white teeth. Polly remained fixated by his beautifully straight teeth, blissfully unaware that her mouth had dropped wide open.

“You'll pretty soon be catching flies if you sit with your mouth wide open much longer,” Will kindly advised.

Polly snapped her mouth shut but continued to search his face, scrutinizing his every facial movement as she waited expectantly for the bubble to burst.
And this must happen soon
, she privately thought.
Yes, just like it always has before. Come on, Will, I'm waiting. Let me help you out here as you spring the good news on me by saying something really hurtful and unkind. Something like, “Gotcha! Sorry, but at the end of the day I was put up to this. You know what I mean, new boy and all that. Put to the test. Yep, you know how it goes. I was told that if I wanted to be part of the ‘in' crowd then the super challenge of the day was for me to work out precisely who is the saddest, most pathetic loser in the school and then pretend to make friends with them. So I guess it's you, Polly Brown. So forgive my insincerity, but it really was nice meeting you.”

Polly anticipated he would then blush a bit, as if to imply he was really a decent sort of guy on a different day, oh and of course in a completely different setting. Please understand, for what else was he supposed to do? Anyone put in his position would do likewise, wouldn't they? He would then turn 'round to give the thumbs up to a large group of fellow pupils watching on from the other side of the hall, who, laughing uncontrollably, would fall off their seats as they signaled to him that he'd definitely made the grade and was therefore fully initiated, the grand prize being that he was now a fully paid-up member of the school's privileged and elite inner sanctum.

“Yes, Will. I'm waiting…”

Finally Will broke the uncomfortable silence. “Polly, help me out here. Is there something wrong? Otherwise something I should know about?

“No, no. Quite what do you mean?” she spluttered.

“Well, I feel that for some unfathomable reason my presence is making you terribly uncomfortable, so perhaps it would be better for both of us if I just move to another table to finish my lunch,” he said. Without any further hesitation he began to get up from his chair to move to another table.

As he picked up his plate and turned to leave, Polly finally came to her senses and reached over to cautiously place her hand over his so as to prevent him from leaving. “Oh, no. Will, please don't go. Not just yet anyway,” she begged.

Will stopped in his tracks and then sunk back down onto his chair. “Go on then. I'm all ears,” he wearily stated.

“Forgive my apparent rudeness. It's just that—” Polly swallowed and then stuttered as she struggled to find the right words. Feeling like a real lemon and therefore at a complete loss for words, she reached out and picked up her fork to begin playing with her mainly untouched meal that was now stone cold.

“Is there something wrong with your hand, Polly, for you keep wincing like you're in some sort of pain?” he cautiously asked.

“Oh nothing, Will. Really, it's nothing. Honest,” she replied as she then quickly removed her left hand from view by placing it on her lap.

She then bravely continued battling on in her quest to find the right words, words that would remain inoffensive but would suitably disclose why she was behaving so badly, yes so dispassionately cold and indifferent toward him, when actually she wanted his companionship more badly than she could ever dare admit.

Will, looking somewhat reluctant, sat back in the chair, his arms folded in front of him while he waited for her to fully explain herself, or at the very least, do all within her power to persuade him to stay.

“OK, Miss Misery Guts! Here's your one and only opportunity to explain to me why I am getting the cold shoulder treatment.”

Polly was slow to speak, as she didn't wish to make herself too vulnerable, for this kind of situation was all too familiar to her. She would misguidedly open up from the heart, allowing her guard of self-protection to come down only to find out time and time again she really was a stupid fool. She had been kicked in the teeth more times than she cared to count, as she found herself further misunderstood, if not downright rejected. She wisely reasoned that she had only known Will for a short time, in fact, less than a day.

So let's face hard, cold facts
, she thought to herself. Would he really still want her friendship once he discovered that she was just one of the many delinquent orphans who only due to the benevolence of a most philanthropic dowager were allowed to live in a castle? And as if all this was not enough, had he not taken the time to notice how severely stained her tatty, moth-eaten school blazer looked? I mean, as her jacket was only dry cleaned once a year, any idiot with half a functioning brain could easily work out the whole year's dinner menu from the many accidental spillages that now remained as disgraceful evidence down the front of her blazer. If he had, he would surely realize that she came from the poorer side of town.

He spoke so nicely, yes, slightly plum in mouth, and she could not help but notice how smartly dressed he was. His whiter-than-snow shirt was so crisp and clean, and his pressed trousers and jacket were immaculate. Worse still, he looked decidedly intelligent, so surely it would be more natural for him to choose to socialize with the other “highly intelligent” specimens, who donned thick glasses and armed themselves with even thicker books as with a distinct air of superiority and grandiose they strode with great purpose down the maze of long school corridors.

So, it made little or no sense whatsoever for him to spend any time or be seen corresponding with such a born loser. It was obvious to Polly that once Will had been at the school for a little more time, he would become more clear thinking. And when this inevitable realization took place, would he still think she was worth knowing? Polly's head was swimming with all these seriously troubling questions that had her feeling constantly exhausted as well as deeply confused. She decided it was surely in her best interest to discourage the friendship at this very early stage, for this way she could empower herself, yes, to protect herself from being seriously hurt.

Suffice it to say, she had little or no idea how to play this one, and needless to say it showed!

“Look, Polly, I have no idea as to what is going on in that pretty little head of yours—”

Pretty? Did he call me pretty?
This unfamiliar and therefore unnatural and very painful word shot through her head like a commuter train hurtling at full speed through an underground station.

“Polly! Are you listening to a single word that I'm saying?” Will anxiously asked.

Polly took in a deep breath before answering. “Will, I have really enjoyed this lunchtime far more than you could ever realize, so please forgive my hesitancy. It's just that as well as being very touched, I'm equally curious as to why out of a whole school of almost eight hundred pupils you would wish to seek me out. Yes, me of all people, for I am not the best person for you to be seen hanging around. Put bluntly, it certainly won't get you the popularity vote with pupils or, sadly, any of the teachers.”

Will smiled and then leaned back in his chair and began to laugh out loud.

Polly took immediate offense.

“Tell me, what's so funny, Will?” she cried as she now betrayed a keen sense of annoyance.

“Oh, now I see where the root of the real problem lies. I perceive that I'm looking at a real ‘Billy No-Mates.' True or false?” he asked, his eyes remaining stubbornly fixed on hers as he waited patiently for an answer.

Polly remained curiously silent, her cheeks burning like the hot plates on a recently stoked-up stove as she casually continued to rearrange the cold food on her plate.

“Come on, Polly. Tell me that I'm right,” he continued to urge.

Polly chose to remain vacant as she pushed the limp, unsavory-looking vegetables to the side of her plate, all the while remaining secretly puzzled as to how this interesting boy who was at least two years her senior could so easily have her whole innards feeling like a pile of rubble by one casual remark that totally took her off guard.