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Authors: Cathy Hopkins
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voices, that sounds mad, just I . . . ’ I blustered. ‘I was just feeling . . . oh never mind.’
Liam glanced at his watch then heaved his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘OK. Better get going. Um. Guess I’ll see you around, Paige. Welcome to Bath and er . . . good luck with the
voices.’
Well that went well for a first encounter, not,
I thought as Tasmin beckoned me to get up and go and join her. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Lesson time. We’ll deliver
you to your classroom then see you back here at lunch, OK?’
I gave her a quick hug. ‘I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, Tasmin. It’s very generous of you, especially after I’ve taken up half your room and
everything.’ I felt like I was about to cry. Tasmin saw it too.
She returned my hug. ‘Hey, stupid. Don’t go all wussy on me. I don’t do soppy.’
I sniffed back the tears. ‘Sorry. I won’t.’
Tasmin looked at me with a serious expression. ‘I mean it. You’ve got to tough this out.’
I nodded and Tasmin gave my arm a squeeze.
She has a good heart
, I thought, then felt myself getting tearful again when I considered how I’d disrupted her life and yet she’d
come round so quickly. I wasn’t sure I could have been that generous. I took a deep breath.
A day at a time
, I told myself.
Just get through a day at a time
.
I did get through the day. And the next. And the week. And the next. Uncle Mike took Dad, Mum and I out in the car a few times after school and at the weekends. He drove us
through the city, showed us the famous crescents and the five-storey Georgian houses there, up the steep hills to the outer areas around the rim, then out to picturesque villages and pubs only ten
minutes away in the country. We glimpsed some beautiful old manor houses on the edge of the city, nestling amongst trees in private grounds. I think they were hard for Mum and Dad to see because
they were so like our old home back in Richmond. To begin with, I couldn’t remember which part was where, but slowly, over the weeks, parts of it began to be familiar, particularly the area
where we lived and the centre of town.
At school, Tasmin and Clover did their best to look out for me but, despite their good intentions, I was still the new girl and I was often on my own. Starting a new school after Year Seven is
difficult at any time because all the friendships and cliques get established in the first terms when everyone arrives together from junior school, and then they carry on through the following
years. By Year Ten the bonds are fixed and any newbie stands out like a sore thumb. People were friendly enough to me but no one went out of their way to ask me to hang out or join their group.
They asked a few questions – Where was I from? Why had I moved to Bath? – but they soon left me to myself. They had their own friends to talk to.
I tried to join the drama group, thinking that would be a good way to meet new people, but they were midway through a production so I’d missed the boat there. My one refuge was the art
room, where I spent at much time as I could. I’d started a project on portraits at my last school and took photos of Tasmin and Clover to paint, but it was a solitary activity because the art
teacher insisted on no talking when working, even if after school.
I sorely missed having Allegra to go home with and to gossip about the day over tea and toast, to have those conversations that were so easy with her and that went from the sublime to the
ridiculous and back again in the space of five minutes. We Skyped most evenings and did our best to maintain the closeness we’d always had, but although what was happening at my old school
was of interest to me, my new school wasn’t of the same interest to her, apart from whether there were any decent boys or not. Not that she didn’t ask about my new life – she did,
but it wasn’t the same as talking about people we both knew.
My life felt uneventful. I went to
Liam glanced at his watch then heaved his rucksack over his shoulder. ‘OK. Better get going. Um. Guess I’ll see you around, Paige. Welcome to Bath and er . . . good luck with the
voices.’
Well that went well for a first encounter, not,
I thought as Tasmin beckoned me to get up and go and join her. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Lesson time. We’ll deliver
you to your classroom then see you back here at lunch, OK?’
I gave her a quick hug. ‘I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, Tasmin. It’s very generous of you, especially after I’ve taken up half your room and
everything.’ I felt like I was about to cry. Tasmin saw it too.
She returned my hug. ‘Hey, stupid. Don’t go all wussy on me. I don’t do soppy.’
I sniffed back the tears. ‘Sorry. I won’t.’
Tasmin looked at me with a serious expression. ‘I mean it. You’ve got to tough this out.’
I nodded and Tasmin gave my arm a squeeze.
She has a good heart
, I thought, then felt myself getting tearful again when I considered how I’d disrupted her life and yet she’d
come round so quickly. I wasn’t sure I could have been that generous. I took a deep breath.
A day at a time
, I told myself.
Just get through a day at a time
.
I did get through the day. And the next. And the week. And the next. Uncle Mike took Dad, Mum and I out in the car a few times after school and at the weekends. He drove us
through the city, showed us the famous crescents and the five-storey Georgian houses there, up the steep hills to the outer areas around the rim, then out to picturesque villages and pubs only ten
minutes away in the country. We glimpsed some beautiful old manor houses on the edge of the city, nestling amongst trees in private grounds. I think they were hard for Mum and Dad to see because
they were so like our old home back in Richmond. To begin with, I couldn’t remember which part was where, but slowly, over the weeks, parts of it began to be familiar, particularly the area
where we lived and the centre of town.
At school, Tasmin and Clover did their best to look out for me but, despite their good intentions, I was still the new girl and I was often on my own. Starting a new school after Year Seven is
difficult at any time because all the friendships and cliques get established in the first terms when everyone arrives together from junior school, and then they carry on through the following
years. By Year Ten the bonds are fixed and any newbie stands out like a sore thumb. People were friendly enough to me but no one went out of their way to ask me to hang out or join their group.
They asked a few questions – Where was I from? Why had I moved to Bath? – but they soon left me to myself. They had their own friends to talk to.
I tried to join the drama group, thinking that would be a good way to meet new people, but they were midway through a production so I’d missed the boat there. My one refuge was the art
room, where I spent at much time as I could. I’d started a project on portraits at my last school and took photos of Tasmin and Clover to paint, but it was a solitary activity because the art
teacher insisted on no talking when working, even if after school.
I sorely missed having Allegra to go home with and to gossip about the day over tea and toast, to have those conversations that were so easy with her and that went from the sublime to the
ridiculous and back again in the space of five minutes. We Skyped most evenings and did our best to maintain the closeness we’d always had, but although what was happening at my old school
was of interest to me, my new school wasn’t of the same interest to her, apart from whether there were any decent boys or not. Not that she didn’t ask about my new life – she did,
but it wasn’t the same as talking about people we both knew.
My life felt uneventful. I went to
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