Chapter 16

Mrs Harris waited until the 38 children had found their seats. She waved her arms for silence and smiled grimly at the class.  “Out of the six new children in this class I have selected four to go up to the Primary,” she said.

Tear was first.  She grabbed her books and stood in readiness to leave.  Biff and Rose were selected.  Step held his breath.  He wanted to be with Tear but he was afraid to go into Third class with the big kids.

Anyway he was rubbish at school, wasn’t he?

“Step, would you join the others please and take this note to Mr P?” Mrs Harris ushered them out the door and pointed in the direction of a low brick building on the opposite side of the playground.

As Step had the note he felt obliged to be the leader, so knocked on a door which said Mr Pennypole, Primary classes 3 to 6, School Principal.

Mr P glowered at the children. His face resembled an overripe tomato and was getting redder by the minute.

“There is no room for you!” he yelled. “Go next door and I will send you a supervisor.”

There were a few desks and chairs scattered around the next door room so the orphans lined them up to face the board and sat down tentatively.  A few minutes later a girl only a few years older than themselves arrived with four more children following.

Mr Pennypole has appointed me as your teacher,” she said smugly.  “My name is Miss Pennypole and I won’t take any nonsense from you.”  In her hand she held a cane which she brought smashing down on Biff’s hand.

“What did I do?” cried Biff angrily. “That really hurt.”

Down came the cane again on Biff’s hand.

“Silence!” screamed Miss Pennypole.

Mr P rushed into the room.

“What is going on? Penelope?” He looked angrily at the class.

“Nothing Dad, er Mr P.  Just settling down this rowdy lot.”

Mr P sighed and looked crossly at the children.  “Now I want all of you to write me a composition about what you did in the holidays.  Not a sound from any of you and I expect at least two pages.” 

Step thought about the orphanage fire, his time at the farm, their new home by the sea, hiding Ruth in the attic, visiting her in hospital and now the good news that she was to live with Aunt Ella.  He wrote rapidly and was on to his fourth page when a cane smashed down in front of him.  Fortunately it missed his fingers.

“What terrible writing,” screeched Miss Pennypole. “I want you to start that again and write it perfectly this time.” She picked up Tear’s book.  “Now this is what I’m looking for.  What beautiful writing! Would you read it to the class please, er Tear.  What a strange name.”

Tear stood up and read grimly, her eyes stony.

The school holiday began with great excitement as I left with my mother and father for Surfers Paradise.  We stayed in a beautiful hotel by the sea and ate in the sunny breakfast room each morning.  Every day we swam happily in the warm, foamy water.  My father bought me a neopolitan icecream and my mother packed a tasty picnic to have at the beach.  One starry night we walked up the hill to the picture theatre to see “The Wizard of Oz”.

Finally we had to drive home in Dad’s new car.  He said there would be a surprise for me when we arrived.  It was a tiny little puppy inside a box.  I have called him Snowy.

Tear looked up at Miss Pennypole who looked positively green with envy.

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” she said.

The bell rang and they waited for instructions.  Miss Pennypole walked out of the room so they followed and found their playlunch, drank their milk and quietly talked amongst themselves.

“That composition you wrote was a pack of lies,” said Rose to Tear. “Holidaying in Surfers Paradise, my foot.”

“Why not write about what you would like to happen?” Tear answered sadly.  “Anyway, Miss Pennypole is not a teacher.  She’s Mr P’s daughter and only about twelve if she’s a day.”

The hours passed slowly, with Mr P rushing into the room checking up on his daughter and the class, dropping off boring worksheets and coloured pencils for their art lesson when Miss Pennypole asked them to draw a vase of flowers from their imagination.

Tear had that steely, hard look on her face all the way home to the orphanage.  She refused to speak and went straight to Matron’s office.  When she came out there was a little smile on her face but she refused to talk to the others about what she had said to Matron.

What they didn’t know was that tomorrow Tear would be eight years old and that Matron had told her she could have anything she wanted for breakfast.  She had chosen crepes with strawberries and cream but decided to keep it a secret from her friends.

Morning came but no one knew it was Tear’s birthday.  No-one except Matron of course. When the children lined up for their porridge Tear sat at the table with her empty plate.

“What’s up, Tear?” asked Step. “Aren’t you hungry today? Worried about Miss Pennypole and her whacky stick?”

Before she could answer the cook walked in with a huge pile of thin, buttery crepes, all crunchy round the edges.  He placed the plate in front of Tear, while Nurse Smiley carried two bowls of strawberries and cream.  She started singing “Happy Birthday” to Tear and the others joined in.

“There’s enough for you all,” said Tear.  “Come on, let’s get started.”

“Is that why you went to see Matron?” asked Step. “To tell her it was your birthday.”

“Of course not,” said Tear. “Just you wait and see.”

As they lined up for assembly, Step could see three teachers out the front.  Mr P stepped up and spoke in a booming voice.

“I would like you all to meet our new teacher, Miss Apple.  She will be taking the new Third/Fourth composite class.

They dutifully said, “Good morning Miss Apple” and wondered what lay ahead.

END OF CHAPTER 16