The Scent of Apples by Jacquie McRae

Author:Jacquie McRae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Huia (NZ) Ltd

Chapter Nine

Charlie and I both have geography first period. We are dwarfed by the classrooms as we scuttle along the narrow alleyways that link them.

Whoever did the brochure for the school should receive some sort of award for deception. The room shown in the brochure was filled with light, and had modern work-stations instead of desks. I’ve glimpsed that room through a window. It’s the year thirteen common room, and off limits for every other year. Most of the classrooms still have metal radiators attached to the walls.

I follow Charlie to seats at the back of the geography classroom. Ms Henrik is our teacher. Her ample bosom wobbles as she scrawls her name on the whiteboard. Her chest also conceals a massive set of lungs. She bellows out to us, ‘The correct pronunciation is Henreek, not Henrick. Listen carefully, as I’ll be explaining what I expect from you all in the term ahead. Today is the day to ask questions if you have any.’

Charlie slides a note across to me. I stare straight ahead as I unravel the folds. I glance down and read: Same training school as Matron. We’re over the wall at lunchtime if they’re all like this.

I grin back as I slip my first note into my blazer pocket. Ms Henrik has a small bell, which she tinkles all through our lesson. We soon learn the system of demerit points. Over twenty in one lesson and the whole class has to come back at the end of the day.

The rest of my day races by as I run from one classroom to the next. I’m grateful when the three o’clock bell rings, signalling the end of classes. I traipse up the stairs to the boarding house.

Geography is the only class that Charlie and I had together today. She is already in our cubicle by the time I get back. She lies on the bed with her shoes on and stares at the ceiling.

‘That cow took my picture down,’ she says as soon as she sees me.

I look at the blank wall above her bed.

‘She’s such a bitch. I mean, what sort of person has a problem with a kid having a few photos around? I just want to go and punch her in the face. What do you reckon, Libby?’

I can see that she’s close to crying. I sit down on my bed and take my shoes and socks off while I try and think of something reassuring to say. I’m so used to people not asking my opinion these days that it comes as a shock to me that I might still have one.

‘Well,’ I force myself to look at Charlie, and take in a big breath of courage to carry on. ‘I think we can rule out the punch.’

Charlie lifts up one side of her mouth into a smile.

‘She may have removed your family pictures, but the way that you talked about them last night makes me believe that you don’t need a picture to remind you of them.

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