The woman was both relentless and undaunted.
‘What’s heavier, a kilo of feathers or a kilo of tar?’
‘They’re the same.’ Ashleigh sat up and rubbed her eyes, wishing she could turn back the clock to last night and sleep all over again, meaning this day would never come. Or better still, turn back the clock to when she had started school, when she now knew it would be wiser not to be so smart, instead to sit at the back and hang out with the gigglers, the slowcoaches, and the dumdums, who seemed to have much more fun than she did. It wasn’t fair,how much she cared, how hard she worked and how she now had to sit the stupid exam.
‘Ah, I can’t fool you!’ Her mum lowered her voice and pointed out of the window. ‘This is an important day, and I want to talk to you about Mrs Jenkins who lives in that house on the corner, you know the one, don’t you?’
They both nodded.
‘She’s got three spare bedrooms,three! And you, my little doves, will pass this exam and get a place at St. Jude’s Academy, a full academic scholarship, where you will get the very best education, and that will get you the best job, which will pay you the best money, and you can buy the best house, with four spare bedrooms if you choose,four!’
‘I don’t think I’d like four spare bedrooms,’ Remy piped up.
‘Why not?’ Her mum stared at her sister as if she just didn’t get it.
‘It just seems like more to clean, all that hoovering and dusting, more rooms to worry about.’
This time Ashleigh caught her mum’s eye, andtheyexchanged a slow, conspiratorial look. Remy was right: shedidn’tget it. Ashleigh knew that if you could afford four spare bedrooms then the chances were you could also afford a cleaner or housekeeper to do all that stuff for you.
She wondered if Mrs Jenkins had a cleaner and tried to imagine a life like that. The big question was, what would you do in your house while your cleaner was in it? Her mum was always busy, constantly polishing, cleaning or scrubbing something with her Marigolds pulled up to her elbows and her hips shifting from side to side beneath the bow of her pinny. And if she wasn’t doing that she was peeling, chopping, stewing, simmering, or mixing, preparing food for the family.
Ashleigh wasn’t sure she wanted a life like her mum’s when she grew up, and she had heard Nancy, who worked in the library, say that her boyfriend had cooked their tea!Her boyfriend had cooked their tea!It was so shocking she had mentioned it to Remy, who had been just as surprised. It had stuck in her mind; she was quite unable to imagine her dad doing anything in the kitchen, let alone cooking tea! It was an idea so far removed from their little life here in Church Lane it made her laugh, like suggesting her mum go out in the car every day to do her dad’s job and come home expectinghertea to be on the table!
This wasn’t what mums did.
But maybe to have a cleaner would be the answer, someone to do all those chores, while she had time to read! Yes, that was what she’d do if she had a cleaner in the house. She’d sit on the sofa and read book after book. It sounded lovely, a life like that, sitting around while someone else did all the work. A life that would probably not be hers if she didn’t pass the exam. And just like that her stomach folded with nerves and she felt like she might be sick.
Remy
Remy was excited for the day ahead – a change in routine and missing lessons was always a novelty on a school day. Plus, she had a trip in the minibus to look forward to and a chance to look around St. Jude’s. Oh, and the exam, which she had no doubt they would ace! But it was definitely the minibus trip that felt like the most exciting thing.
‘Right, up and at ’em, little doves! See you downstairs in five!’
Her mum clapped as she left the room. Remy stared at Ashleigh, who looked less than keen to rise and shine.
‘Did you have any sweet dreams?’ Remy asked, as she arranged her soft toys on the pillow. They had an order and a rank that sheliked to follow: Little Pigeon in the arms of Blue Cat, Mousey on the foot of Josephine the duck. And Mr Ted and Maureen the hedgehog behind her soft Holly Hobbie ‘Heather’ doll. It all made sense to her. She kissed the tip of her finger and touched each one, like someone of the cloth issuing blessings.
‘No. I didn’t dream anything.’ Ashleigh was yet to leave her bed, and Remy sensed her reticence. ‘I kept waking up.’
Remy had slept soundly, as she always did, knowing her sister was right there and her parents were in the room next door along the hallway. It was even nicer when she heard their voices chattering or the sound of music floating up the stairs from the radio, or their laughter coming from the kitchen, or the click of her dad’s wedding ring on the banister rail as he gripped it to walk up or down the stairs. She might be ten, but still, at the sound of this background noise she felt the calming of her pulse, and the settling of her bones, happy to know her mum was within reach. Not that she’d be sharing this with Ashleigh, who would only think her a baby, or worse, a scaredy baby.
Ashleigh was braver than her, more adventurous; she liked to go out and about on her bike alone, or to wander up to the Old Sarum hillfort for a trek and a mooch, whereas Remy preferred to be in the kitchen, watching her mum whip up a Victoria sponge, or helping her peel spuds for tea. She liked to feel useful and liked it even more when her mum put her hand on her face and said, ‘Such a good girl.’
There was nowhere Remy would rather be than inside, where everything she needed and everything she could possibly want was right there under the roof of their little house, the one without a spare bedroom. Her parents slept in the double, while she and Ashleigh shared their room, with the smallest room currently full of boxes, her mum’s sewing machine and Christmas decorations, ready for one of them to move intowhen they were ready... this thevague timeline her mum had attached to the event. Remy couldn’t imagine falling asleep without her sister, who she had slept next to since they shared the snug space inside their mum’s tum, close by. Together before they even knew how to think, or how to be.
One egg, split in two ...
She certainly wasn’t yet ready to move her bed into the littlest room and, in truth, couldn’t imagine a time when she might be.
‘Are you worried about the exam?’ She tried to guess at the reason for her sister’s lack of enthusiasm to get the day started.
‘No!’ Ashleigh fired, and Remy knew her well enough to understand that this might actually meanyes.
‘Because it’ll be okay. You’ll have me there, and even if you don’t finish, Miss Delaney said that you can get enough points from the first three parts to pass, so we don’t need to rush.’
‘I don’t care what Miss Delaney said! I told you, I don’t care about the stupid exam! Or the stupid scholarship!’
Remy stared as her sister finally jumped out of bed, grabbed her towel, and headed for the bathroom to have her bath, choosing to say nothing rather than say the wrong thing.
