‘That’s okay, Tony, I’m here now. Ashleigh too.’
‘I guess I’m feeling a bit sad because I won’t have anyone to hang out with at lunchtime, because you and Ashleigh are going to do your test.’
Tony wasn’t like the other boys in their class. He wasn’t rambunctious or sporty or loud or irritating. He was the opposite of all that, he was lovely. He read as much as she did, wore a jumper knitted by his mum instead of one of the boring, itchy school ones, and his older brother, Gregory, cut his hair. He smelled ofmothballs and lavender and always offered to share everything he had with her and Ashleigh; his sweets, his lunch, his good advice.
He didn’t have a dad. Well, he used to have a dad, but he had died by getting squished by a car when Tony was in his mum’s tummy and his dad had stepped off the kerb without looking. He was also funny, the funniest, and could do the best impressions of everyone they knew, including Miss Delaney, the second-year teacher, who took them for gym and seemed, most of the time, to be in a bit of a tizz.
She noticed the shiny tears that sat at the bottom of his eyes gathering on his lashes but not falling down his cheeks, and it made her feel a little sad too. He was different to a lot of the other boys in this regard also, as he didn’t mind crying.
‘It’s only one lunchtime, Tony. It will all be back to normal tomorrow.’
He nodded, but his bottom lip still looked a little wobbly.
‘But if you both get into St. Jude’s and I have to go to Milton Road on my own ...’ He let this hang, and it was the first time she reconsidered leaving her friend. She didn’t like the thought at all.
‘We won’t worry about it until we have to.’ Remy gave the advice her mother offered with regularity.
‘I remember when you both got chickenpox and were off for a week,’ Tony whispered. ‘I made out to have it too because I didn’t want to be here without you. My mum knew I was faking, but she let me stay at home anyway, as long as I did the work Mrs Harman sent.’
‘I remember that.’ It had made her like Tony’s mum even more. ‘While we’re gone, you can go to the library and help Nancy with the returns, or you could see if Mr Vaughan might let you litter pick?’
‘I’ll go to the library.’ He voiced the plan but sounded less than enamoured at the prospect.
‘Nancy will look after you.’ This she knew to be true. Nancy was a student who was at college and wanted to be a teacher. She was a grown-up, obviously, but had badges on her jumper that suggested she wasn’t a full grown-up, and everyone called her Nancy, and not Miss ... whatever Nancy’s last name was.
Remy was excited about her trip, and was looking forward to the exam, but still she envied Tony the day ahead, knowing she would give anything to spend the lunchtime in the library with him and Nancy. It was the best place to be on any day.
Ashleigh
Ashleigh shut the door and sat in the stall of the bathroom. Her heart beat very quickly and she felt a little sick. It happened like this sometimes when the world felt very big, and she felt very small and entirely uncertain of her place in it. What she was certain of was that she did not feel able to take the trip to St. Jude’s.
I can’t . . .
I can’t do it . . .
I can’t take the exam ...
I just can’t . . .
Her top lip was wet, and she ran her finger over it to see if her nose was running, but it was sweat. All sounds were a little echoey in her ears. Her legs felt as if they were made of both jelly and lead.
I can’t do it . . .
‘Ashleigh?’ The sound of Remy’s voice made her instantly feel a little better, the familiarity of it, the concern in it and the proximity of her twin. ‘Are you okay?’ her sister asked softly, quietly, as she knocked on the door. Ashleigh let her in, and Remy locked the door behind her, her expression one of concern.
‘No,’ she began, ‘I’m not ... not okay.’ Her tears came then. Springing from her eyes like leaks.
‘Don’t cry!’ Remy held her hand. ‘What shall I do, shall I go and get a teacher?’
She shook her head. ‘No! No, please don’t. They’ll only tell Mum, or they’ll try and explain why Ineedto go and take the exam, and I don’t want to do it, Rem, I just don’t!’
‘But ...’ Her sister swallowed, and looked all around them, as if trying to figure out what to say, what to do!
‘I . . . I can’t . . . I just . . . just can’t!’
‘Course you can, it’s only an exam!’
‘It’s not though, is it? It’s an exam that says where we’ll go to big school, it’s the scholarship, and I know how badly Mum and Dad want us to get into St. Jude’s. Milton Road is a rubbish school. Everyone knows it!’
