What We Hide (16 page)

Richard nodded, so Brenda kept going. “What I’m wondering is, does God let us do wrong things if they lead to doing
right? I was skiving, which was wrong. But it was right that I was there to help Mrs. Willis. Wasn’t it? And let’s say there’s a doctor who does a wrong thing in one part of his life but then does all the good of healing? Or Mrs. Willis, even, who has a drink too many most days. If she’d had her fit at home, she’d be dead right now. Her nip at lunchtime meant she was in the right spot for me to find her. So how can we ever know? Right or wrong?” Brenda stopped. She’d been rattling on.

Richard rubbed his thumb across his chin about thirty times. “There is a poem by Robert Frost,” he finally said. “I would like to recite the last verse.”

“All right, then.”

“ ‘I shall be telling this with a sigh …’ ” He used the voice that made them crack up in Meeting, important and rumbling. “ ‘Somewhere ages and ages hence.’ ” He looked at her, as if to make certain she was paying attention. “ ‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by; and that has made all the difference.’ ”

He went back to rubbing his chin.

“Oh.” Brenda tried to sound impressed, but she was thinking,
Huh?
“That’s a really nice poem, Richard. But could you explain a bit further?”

“I like to think that it means we should follow our hearts,” he said. “That we may not understand our choices until we are looking back upon what they led us to.”

“Do you think deep
all
the time?” Brenda asked.

Richard smiled and stood up, not even mentioning detention. “Happily for Mrs. Willis, your road converged with hers today.”

Brenda felt that warmth again, as if she’d stepped into a patch of sunshine. “Yeah,” she said. “She’ll have a little more road to be looking back on. Because of me.”

Richard drove a funny old Citroën that he said he’d bought twenty-four years ago. He collected Brenda after tea the next afternoon, said he’d take her to visit the woman she’d rescued. It felt dead strange to be sitting up front in the headmaster’s car, in Isobel’s usual spot, her things in the pocket: the eyeglass case, a tin of sour lemon drops, a crumpled tissue.

“I don’t often think about the double lives of our day students,” Richard was saying. “I thank you for reminding me how rich your experience is, steeped in the world of the town as well as that of Illington Hall.”

“Ha,” said Brenda. “
Rich
is the very last word I’d use. Nobody’s got nothin’ among the townies. Apart from the ones who run the hotel, perhaps, and a couple of blokes who make a lucky guess at the racetrack.”

“You have a great deal more than you realize,” said Richard. “Time will show that you have gathered much of value.”

The headmaster announced that he would wait in the car while she was in the hospital. “Take your time,” he said. “Be the neighbour you’d wish to have.”

Brenda watched Mrs. Willis nap, quite grateful not to
find her awake. That might have been dead awkward, considering the knickers and such that Brenda had witnessed. She tore out a page from her history notebook and drew a cheery daisy with
Get Well Soon
scrawled over it.

The idea had come to her in the Citroën that she might ask about Robbie Muldoon while she was here. It had worked out nicely, Richard letting her do the visiting on her own.

Robbie’s arms had just been rebandaged. “Stiff as pricks,” he said. “Can’t even bend at the elbows.” He waved them about to prove it. “They’re letting me out tonight.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll say who did it,” said Brenda.

“Don’t suppose I will,” he said. “Best for everyone if I didn’t see.”

“What if they go on and hurt someone else?”

“It was me they wanted,” said Robbie.

She didn’t quite have the pluck to ask,
Was it true what was scratched under those wrappings?
She’d never met a boy like that before.

“Well, ta-ta, then,” said Brenda. “For now.”

He lifted a long white arm. “Dead nice of you to come.”

The elevator took an age. When the doors opened, Brenda was face to face with Dr. Sperm. Holy crap.

“Hello there.” His smile was warm as mittens. Panic banged in her chest as she stepped in, staring at the numbers, anywhere but at him. Which road? A shadowy side path or the bright glare of a motorway with oncoming cars?

“You should know,” said Brenda. “Your son Michael is a mate of mine.”

“I didn’t realize,” said the doctor, “that he knew any girls.”

“Oh yeah, we’re good chums.”

Now or never. “And I won’t tell him you touched me, unless I hear you’ve done it to someone else at my school. Clear enough?”

The elevator dinged for the ground floor. Her face had never been as red as this, Brenda was certain. She let the doctor exit in front of her so she could go the other way.

oona

NEARLY HALF-TERM

Hallo there, Toronto
,

BIG DRAMA!!!
I found a body in the ladies’ toilet at the Red Lion!!!!!! Well, not actually expired, but nearly. Dead exciting! (Excuse the pun.) It was me and Brenda (roly-poly day girl, remember her?). You should have been there! The funny bit was that we were skiving at the time, with American Jenny, but all was well in the end. We totally saved the old bag’s life and hardly got a wigging from Richard, just Early Bed for two nights. Jenny, by the way, seems to be getting the hang of Illington, though she made the fatal mistake of befriending Penelope at the outset, little knowing what inevitable woe awaits. Her peculiar fashion statement—the slashed-up uniforms—becomes ever more bizarre as the laundry does its share in turning every dangly bit into a frayed rag (in the case of the blouses) or a knotted lump of lint (jumpers & skirts). But she goes along with American aplomb, thinking she’s the coolest chick in the farmyard. She’s mad on letter writing, mostly to her tragically military boyfriend in Vietnam. She milks it a bit, if you ask me, but she and Percy sit there scribbling away on what they apparently believe to be great works of art: his film script and her portfolio of love letters
.

Last night, Kirby took a vanload of us to Leeds, to hear a band called Lindisfarne. Val Matron went as the other staff member (and speaking of members, I suspect that she is more than a little interested in that which belongs in Kirby’s trousers)
.

It was me, Jenny, Carrie, Adrian, Percy (who wore a tie for some unfathomable reason), Henry, and … Nico!

I confess to looking rawther fetching in a new top from Marks and Sparks (defying their usual humble attempts at design and providing a flattering view of the upper-chest region). Adrian made several lewd comments, as did Henry (which was quite gratifying as we’ve had only one Cellar encounter since that heated display of affection after the Spring Fling dance last term). However, Gentleman Nico told them to shut their gobs, which was most noble of him. He can be dead sweet, can’t he?

Wouldn’t you know it, I was squished in next to him on the ride to Leeds, so we had the opportunity to discuss our mutual Canadian friend, i.e., you. We did, however, manage a couple of minutes of alternate discourse. Imagine that! Nico sat between Jenny and Percy on the way home, while Henry fell asleep and drooled on my scoop-neck top!

I have been on a beautification kick, using polish to stop biting nails and attempting to diet, which is not SO hard if you remember Vera D’s exquisite cuisine. Kirsten smuggled an electric kettle to stash in the Girls’ Changing Room so we can make tea or bouillon. I’ve been living on Oxo cubes and Tuc crackers
.

Much love from your friend with an actual waistline!

PS Band was brill!!!!!

TUESDAY

Hello, gorgeous and all the usual rather boring introductory crap …

Extra Bonus Feature! Today Only!

Genuine handwritten notes from

Odd Assortment of Cellar Dwellers (skiving off Assembly) …

SARAH!! Kirsten here. Austen dorm without you is not nearly as great as Brontë WITH you! Come baaaack! xxoo

Hi, this is me, Nico. Sorry I haven’t written. We sure miss you.

I’ll write soon on my own. Love you, N

How cold is Canada? Not as cold as the breakfast porridge I’m sure.

Cheers, Percy
.

Kirsten says I have to say hello, so hello. Luke.

Hallo there, wish we’d been here together—you are talked about all the time! xx Jenny, “the new girl”

Hello, Oona again. Doesn’t all that just toast your toes?

FOUR DAYS LATER

Whoops, just found this in Bio notebook, will send at once
.

xx

PPS Thanks for letter! Not long enough …

PPPS I don’t actually see Nico as often as I mention him—I just assume you’ll be interested.…

Whoops again, now writing from bedroom at home in Lowestoft, long weekend due to strep throat. I’d rather die than let Dr. Sperm touch my virginal being.…

Guess who rang up my first night back? To be completely honest, Nico rang me because I rang him first. Don’t worry, it was all business, asking about getting a signed book from his mother for the camping trip raffle
.

Otherwise, blah! Home! Nice for the first few meals and then deadly. More soon. xxxxxxxxooooooo

Still at HOME. BLAH
.

BORED as HELL!

As much as school can be claustrophobic and the food sickening, there’s always something going on. I am PINING for entertainment
.

Instead, I shall turn my attention to answering some of the one hundred and nine urgent questions in your last letter.…

Yes

No

Sometimes

Etc
.

Ha ha, only joking!

I suppose I’m just avoiding the sticky matter of Nico’s communication habits.…

We’ve been pretty occupied with A-level practice exams so that’s one possible reason.… But yes, we’ve been spending a bit of time together. He’s possibly my best male friend at the moment, so from the insider point of view, I’d say he’s not writing because he’s trying to face the fact that you aren’t here, and staying in touch perhaps prolongs the pain?

Look for fun in merry old Toronto, since that’s where you must remain.…

Anyway, must go
,

Ta-ta for now

Oooooooona!

THURSDAY

Sparkling sunshine for your special day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR GRANNY
,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOU!

I thought particularly about your drastic aging during Richard’s uplifting poetic offering last Meeting, by some old codger named Robert Herrick:
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow will be dying.

Cheerful, eh?

No time to linger but wanted to wish you many many many happy returns of this memorable day. Thinking of you from far far away …

xx a sp-OONA-ful of sugar …

(WAITING FOR SUNDAY MEETING)

Hi, Sarah
,

Did you have a loverly birthday? Any particular wishes you’d like to come true this year?

I wonder how much you think about us. I wonder if I’ll ever see you again. Perhaps when we’re old ladies like our mothers and drag our creaking limbs to a reunion, motoring around the Lake District or something … Do we ever cross your mind? Since Illington has no effect on your life anymore? Are you possibly reunited with Tony?

Anyway, just saying hello
.

Nico had a long weekend in the South of France with his mother, did you know that?

Loads of things happening, can’t write it all down, I’d be scribbling half the night. Sooo, just thinking about you. Sad you’re so far away
.

Cheerio
,
Love you
,
Oona

Dear Sarah
,

This is actually quite an awkward letter to write, but I am going to come right out and say it. Even while you’re hating me, I trust that once you stop shredding my photo to let it sink in, you will understand completely
.

The truth is that Nico and I have become rather close over the past week, and by close I mean … We don’t really talk that much but there’s a sort of spiritual connection that doesn’t need words to thrive. However, it now goes beyond the spiritual. Yes, it happened a while ago, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell you right away. I admit he is the sexiest bloke I have ever met, let alone kissed, let alone the rest of it. It comes clear why you seemed to have a sudden interest in woodworking your last term. Who knew there was a lock conveniently located on the
inside
of the supply room?

This may be hard for you to read, but … you live in another country … and Nico has moved on. I happen to be the one he has moved on to
.

In the beginning we both genuinely missed you so much that we had that as our common ground. Then we found out that we were having fun. I am totally in love and I think he feels the same way even if he hasn’t said it yet. He wants to keep our relationship a secret for now, out of respect for you
.