“Hi, Ms.Barnett!” Tori calls a moment later as a slim woman walks away down the corridor. She turns to us. “I’ve found a new girl.”
I follow Tori and force myself to smile. Ms.Barnett must be in her sixties, and has her light-brown hair tied up in a severe bun, yet there’s warmth in her eyes. I like her, even before we’ve spoken a word.
“You must be Emma Wiley,” she says, holding out her hand. “Laura and Jacob’s daughter, right?”
I feel suddenly cold. “Yes, I... You know my parents?”
“I was your mother’s houseparent too, and taught them both French and art.Did they come with you? I’d love to say hello.”
I force myself to keep smiling as I shake my head. “No, sadly they couldn’t make it,” I manage.
I don’t know why I don’t tell her the truth. Maybe because I don’t want the first thing Ms.Barnett hears to be that my parents are divorced and that my dad walked out on us.
“What a shame. But I’m so pleased you’re here, Emma.” Her smile is so kind that I relax a little. “Welcome to Dunbridge Academy.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Did you have a good journey? Let me just get the key to your room. Then you can settle in a bit.”
I stand there next to Tori while Ms.Barnett disappears into a room to our left. Maybe she sleeps on this floor too. When she comes back, she’s holding a key and beckons us to follow. At the very end of the long corridor, she stops outside a dark wood door and unlocks it. “I hope you like it,” she says, letting me go ahead.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting. The wordsboarding schoolmade me think of gloomy rooms and narrow bunk beds, but this room isn’t like that at all. There’s a bay window with lattice panes. The glass is a little misty, and the paint is peeling on the frames, but that doesn’t tarnish the room’s charm. Quite the opposite.
As I move further in, old floorboards creak under my feet, and it’s wonderful. My eyes take in steep roofs and small gable windows, then move on to the pointed spires of the old church. Below us is the cobbled courtyard; a little further away, I can see the hills and, on the horizon, the sea.
“I love the view from up here.” Ms.Barnett steps alongside me. “I hope you’ll soon feel at home, Emma.”
I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I only know that it’s very hard to fight the sting in my eyes. I’m here at this boarding school, and everyone I’ve met so far has been supernice, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling seriously overwhelmed.
“Did you bring your own bed linen?” Ms.Barnett asks.
“No, I...” I falter. Damn. Did I forget? I did, didn’t I? At least, I can’t remember having packed any. “I don’t think so.”
“Not a problem. I’ll bring you a set. We have towels too. I’ll give you a moment to get started with your unpacking, then come back to go over the house rules with you, all right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Mrs.Sinclair is giving a short welcome assembly for all the new pupils at four o’clock. Come and find me beforehand, and I’ll show you the way.”
“I can show her,” offers Tori, who is still standing in my doorway.
“Really? That would be kind, Victoria, thank you.”
Tori looks as if she’s making a serious effort not to roll her eyes. I find myself smiling, then remember that it would be wiser not to warm to her so much. I’m not here to make friends. Everything at this school comes with an end date. I shouldn’t start liking everyone, or it’ll just cause more unnecessary pain when my time’s up.
“I’ll knock for you later,” Tori promises. “I have to go back down now and look out for more new kids.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” I say.
“After Mrs.Sinclair’s speech, I’ll give you the tour! I promise. Bye, Ms.Barnett!”
Ms.Barnett watches Tori with a shake of the head, but I can see the corners of her lips twitching. She turns back to me. “Come to me at any time if you have questions, Emma. Anything at all. Don’t be shy. I’ll see you again soon.”
She lays the key on the desk, walks out of the door, and I’m on my own, really all-on-my-own alone, and the silence feels oppressive.
I’m truly here. I slowly turn 360 degrees. All the furniture is in the same dark wood and looks like it could tell a few tales. I wonder how many generations of boarders have passed through here. There are so many marks on the desktop beside the wall. I kind of like that. Above it is a cork pinboard, and above that are two simple shelves. The bed’s in the corner opposite the windows, with a small bedside table, a chest of drawers, and a plain wardrobe. Just the bare necessities, but it already feels cozy, even with no bedding on the bare mattress and no pictures on the walls. AmI allowed to put stuff up? Suddenly I regret not having packed any photos or strings of fairy lights. Apart from a few Polaroids that I carry around in my diary, all my mementos—photos of Mum and me, Isi, our crowd, and the girls from the athletics club—are at home, stuck up over my desk there. It didn’t even occur to me to bring them. Why would I? I’m only here for a year. It’s not worth settling in.
I run my fingers over the wooden desk. Then I reach for one of my suitcases to start unpacking. At least, that’s my plan. I’ve just put it on the floor and undone the zip when my phone buzzes.
