Page 27 of Darling Girls

They were sitting at the breakfast table, which had been laid with bowls and spoons. Miss Fairchild sat at the head of the table, dressed and ready for the day in a floral skirt, white blouse and pearly pink lipstick. Her finger- and toenails were painted peach, and her hair was wavy with the exception of her bangs, which were blown out straight.

‘What time does school start?’ Alicia asked, eating faster in case they had to leave before she was finished.

Alicia had spent the night before trying to ignore her rumbling tummy so she could get to sleep. When she did drift off, she dreamed of eating an ice-cream sundae the size of a basketball.

‘Eight thirty,’ Miss Fairchild said. ‘But it’s a forty-five-minute walk.’

Alicia nearly regurgitated her breakfast.Forty-five minutes!It was already scorching outside and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. At home, if the weather was even slightly too warm or too cold, Grammy insisting on driving her to school, which was a five-minute walk at most.

‘The exercise will be good for you, Alicia,’ Miss Fairchild said pointedly.

Alicia’s cheeks burned. Jessica and Norah didn’t laugh, which was kind, but their obvious discomfort was nearly as bad.

Norah and Jessica walked as slowly as they could to accommodate her, but Alicia was still faint and had three blisters by the time they arrived at school. A little voice in Alicia’s head wondered if maybe, just maybe, Miss Fairchild was right. Maybe Grammyhadbeen overindulging her. She didn’t clean, she was driven to school, she could eat whatever she pleased. Maybe she really was – what had Miss Fairchild said? – a little glutton.

At school, Jessica took Alicia to the office, where she filled out some paperwork. Then she was placed in a composite class with Jessica and Norah. On the walk to school she’d discovered there was eighteen months between them – Jessica was the oldest at thirteen, Alicia in the middle at twelve and a half and Norah, eleven, was the youngest. The reverse order of their heights, Norah noted.

It was interesting, observing Norah and Jessica in this environment. They were, Alicia surmised, neither cool nor uncool. Norah was incredibly smart and extremely hot-blooded – being sent out of the classroom twice in the morning alone: once for calling Matt Trotman a dickhead (‘he is one’) and another time for pushing Anthony White Reynolds off his chair (which she claimed was an accident but definitely wasn’t).

Jessica, while not as smart as Norah, had her hand up much of the time and was the very opposite of Norah’s turbulence; she was the first to get her books out, or volunteer to be library monitor, or answer a question. Alicia, who had always been a solidly average student and comfortable with that – likely because of Grammy’s incessant cheerleading – suddenly found herself feeling insecure about it.Is there anything youaregood at?a little voice said.Not cleaning. Not sport. Not studies. You’re not the most attractive, the most talented or the most helpful. What, exactly, is the point of you?

By the time lunchtime came around, Alicia was starving and thoroughly miserable. In the canteen area, most people gathered in groups. Alicia looked around for Norah and Jessica, assuming they’d sit together, but when she saw them sitting separately and alone, neither of them so much as glancing in her direction, Alicia wandered outside and sat on the first step she found. Miserable as she was, she needed to eat. She didn’t have high hopes for her lunch, which had been made by Miss Fairchild, but when she opened her lunch bag and found two rice crackers and a small, sad-looking apple, she thought she might cry.

The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that there would be a message waiting for her from Grammy when she got home. There had to be. Grammy would be worried sick about her, desperate to know how she was getting on. When Alicia told her what it was like with Miss Fairchild, Grammy would move heaven and earth to get her out of there. And then Alicia could leave this whole experience at Wild Meadows behind her, like the bad dream that it was.

There was no message from Grammy. On top of the disappointment, she felt humiliated, even a little annoyed. Why hadn’t Grammy called?

There would be a reasonable explanation; there had to be. But try as she might, Alicia couldn’t figure it out. Grammy would have a phone in her room – and even if she didn’t, surely she could ask a nurse to ring? She’d be anxious about Alicia being placed into foster care. She’d want to know that Alicia was all right. Her silence didn’t make sense.

‘Would it be all right if I called the hospital?’ Alicia asked Miss Fairchild finally. She’d done her homework and finished her chores and couldn’t hold back, even if the prospect of approaching Miss Fairchild made her want to throw up.

Miss Fairchild, who was dusting the mantelpiece, looked irritated at the interruption. ‘You heard what your social worker said,’ she said briskly. ‘She’ll call when there is news.’ She resumed dusting.

‘I know. It’s just . . . I thought she would have rung by now.’

Miss Fairchild stopped dusting and sighed before turning back. ‘Your grandmother is in hospital, Alicia,’ she said, enunciating every word clearly. ‘How is she going to get better if you don’t leave her alone? It’s not easy looking after a child. It’s even harder, I imagine, if you’re an old woman. All that cooking, cleaning, running around. Can you blame her for wanting to switch off for a little while? Who knows,’ she muttered, turning back to the mantel, ‘maybeGrammyis enjoying her little vacation away from you.’

Alicia felt like she’d been slapped.

‘No,’ Alicia said, even as a little voice in her head said:She’s right. ‘She’s not enjoying it. She’ll be worried about me. Wondering how I’m doing.’

But Alicia was starting to doubt so many things. Maybe she was wrong about Grammy?

‘If that’s the case,’ Miss Fairchild said, ‘I can think of only one reason she hasn’t got in touch.’

Like a fool, Alicia was about to ask what it was. Then it dawned on her.

Miss Fairchild turned back to the mantel, dusting more vigorously now. The hem of her floral skirt bounced rhythmically.

Once again, Alicia’s eyes filled with tears.

Where are you, Grammy? Come and get me. Please.

When Alicia climbed into bed that night, she felt something crunch underneath her.

‘What on earth?’ She fished between the sheets and found a small packet of Barbecue Shapes.

In the semi-darkness, Alicia saw two pairs of eyes gleaming.