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Authors: Nina Harkness
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choose the lilac paint and peacock bedspread. The children’s rooms led off the drawing room so when there were parties, the sound of laughing and dancing kept them awake.
Recently, however, Samira found herself unable to sleep because of Charles’ shouting. It would start about an hour after she had gone to bed. She would hide her head under the covers, blocking her ears. Why was he shouting at Mother? How could he go on and on like that? What could she have done that was so terrible? Samira would scrutinize her parents the following morning. Ramona seemed calm and unruffled. Charles was his normal self. It was most baffling and went on for many weeks until one night the shouting woke Mark.
Without hesitating, he jumped out of bed and opened the drawing room door. From her bedroom, Samira could see him go in. The shouting instantly stopped. She jumped out of bed and followed him, in curiosity and fear. Ramona and Charles were sitting with their drinks, unperturbed.
“What’s the matter, darling?” Ramona held out her arms to Mark, and he ran up to sit beside her.
“Why is Daddy yelling at you?” he asked. He looked accusingly at Charles.
“Goodness, children, Daddy’s not shouting at me,” said Ramona, laughing.
“But I heard him. He’s been doing it for weeks,” said Samira, who had followed Mark into the room.
“I was just telling her things I’m angry about,” Charles explained. “I’m not angry with Mummy. There are things in the factory that have been worrying me, and I’m upset with the company. That’s all.”
“Oh,” breathed Samira. So he had been shouting to her and not at her all this time! What a relief.
“Now, off to bed with you. I’ll try to make less noise from now on,” said Charles, briskly.
Chapter 7
Dooars, 1969-1971
“If you see Caroline, run!” Rachel Moorhead told Samira as soon as the Clarke family arrived at the club. It was December, and Rachel was home for a whole month. They hugged and kissed, happy to see each other, but evidently Rachel had other, more pressing issues on her mind. Ramona and Charles were already striding off in the direction of the golf course, followed by their caddies. Mark was kicking a football with some younger boys.
“But why?” asked Samira, trying to keep up with Rachel, who was running around the side of the clubhouse.
“Coz, I hate her, that’s why. Come on!” She said this as she spotted Caroline who had grown tremendously during the past year and who did not seem at all interested in pursuing the indignant Rachel.
“Why? What did she do?” asked Samira, wondering what Caroline could have done to upset Rachel in such a short time. Although Rachel and Caroline had their differences, the three girls had enjoyed good times together over the years. They needed each other in a place where company of any kind was scarce, especially company of their own age.
“Just look at her!” said Rachel in disgust. “That dress…those shoes…and,” she whispered in Samira’s ear as though the words were too awful to be uttered out loud, “she’s wearing a bra!”
“Oh-h,” stammered Samira. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because she told me, of course,” Rachel said, scornfully. “Just as soon as she saw me.”
Samira looked at Rachel, whom she had not seen for almost a year, and gulped. There was no way of saying this without seeming terribly disloyal, but there was no escaping the fact. She might as well get it out in the open.
“I’m sorry, Rach,” she said nervously, as though confessing to some awful crime. “But I’m… er…I’m wearing a bra, too. My mother said I had to.”
Actually, Samira had been delighted to wear a bra, and there was no debating the fact that she was well ready for one. Rachel glared at her, speechless for a moment, and then stormed, half in tears,
“It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! You’re both all grown up. Nothing will ever be the same again.”
Samira, going through
Recently, however, Samira found herself unable to sleep because of Charles’ shouting. It would start about an hour after she had gone to bed. She would hide her head under the covers, blocking her ears. Why was he shouting at Mother? How could he go on and on like that? What could she have done that was so terrible? Samira would scrutinize her parents the following morning. Ramona seemed calm and unruffled. Charles was his normal self. It was most baffling and went on for many weeks until one night the shouting woke Mark.
Without hesitating, he jumped out of bed and opened the drawing room door. From her bedroom, Samira could see him go in. The shouting instantly stopped. She jumped out of bed and followed him, in curiosity and fear. Ramona and Charles were sitting with their drinks, unperturbed.
“What’s the matter, darling?” Ramona held out her arms to Mark, and he ran up to sit beside her.
“Why is Daddy yelling at you?” he asked. He looked accusingly at Charles.
“Goodness, children, Daddy’s not shouting at me,” said Ramona, laughing.
“But I heard him. He’s been doing it for weeks,” said Samira, who had followed Mark into the room.
“I was just telling her things I’m angry about,” Charles explained. “I’m not angry with Mummy. There are things in the factory that have been worrying me, and I’m upset with the company. That’s all.”
“Oh,” breathed Samira. So he had been shouting to her and not at her all this time! What a relief.
“Now, off to bed with you. I’ll try to make less noise from now on,” said Charles, briskly.
Chapter 7
Dooars, 1969-1971
“If you see Caroline, run!” Rachel Moorhead told Samira as soon as the Clarke family arrived at the club. It was December, and Rachel was home for a whole month. They hugged and kissed, happy to see each other, but evidently Rachel had other, more pressing issues on her mind. Ramona and Charles were already striding off in the direction of the golf course, followed by their caddies. Mark was kicking a football with some younger boys.
“But why?” asked Samira, trying to keep up with Rachel, who was running around the side of the clubhouse.
“Coz, I hate her, that’s why. Come on!” She said this as she spotted Caroline who had grown tremendously during the past year and who did not seem at all interested in pursuing the indignant Rachel.
“Why? What did she do?” asked Samira, wondering what Caroline could have done to upset Rachel in such a short time. Although Rachel and Caroline had their differences, the three girls had enjoyed good times together over the years. They needed each other in a place where company of any kind was scarce, especially company of their own age.
“Just look at her!” said Rachel in disgust. “That dress…those shoes…and,” she whispered in Samira’s ear as though the words were too awful to be uttered out loud, “she’s wearing a bra!”
“Oh-h,” stammered Samira. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because she told me, of course,” Rachel said, scornfully. “Just as soon as she saw me.”
Samira looked at Rachel, whom she had not seen for almost a year, and gulped. There was no way of saying this without seeming terribly disloyal, but there was no escaping the fact. She might as well get it out in the open.
“I’m sorry, Rach,” she said nervously, as though confessing to some awful crime. “But I’m… er…I’m wearing a bra, too. My mother said I had to.”
Actually, Samira had been delighted to wear a bra, and there was no debating the fact that she was well ready for one. Rachel glared at her, speechless for a moment, and then stormed, half in tears,
“It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! You’re both all grown up. Nothing will ever be the same again.”
Samira, going through
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