Blink(29)

My heart squeezed in on itself when I thought about what she’d been through. She was dealing with a never-ending hurt she didn’t fully understand. Her daddy had been there one minute and gone the next, and now upheaval had struck again in the shape of a new home and a new school.

Was it any wonder she’d withdrawn into herself a bit and didn’t want the spotlight on her in class? I blamed myself. I should have made it clearer to Harriet Watson the day she’d called at the house, but I wasn’t sure what else I could have said. Don’t try to help her integrate or make friends? Leave her completely alone? Ignore her? Of course not. In the long run, Miss Watson’s efforts would pay off, I felt sure of it.

‘Morning, Mummy.’ Evie stretched and yawned and smiled at me sleepily.

‘There she is, my best girl.’ I smiled back. ‘My clever, clever girl who goes to big school now.’

A shadow passed over her face and her fingers clawed at her comfort blanket.

‘Your favourite breakfast is awaiting you downstairs, Your Highness.’ I swept my arm grandly.

‘Frosted Shreddies?’ Her face lit up.

‘Frosted Shreddies indeed.’ I grinned. ‘And fresh orange juice WITHOUT the bits.’

‘Yum!’

Evie pushed her blanket away and shuffled over to me for a cuddle.

‘Now, are you going to be a brave girl for Mummy and go to school again today?’ I ventured. ‘It’s my first day at my new job and I’m a little nervous, too. Can we do it together, do you think?’

‘Yes, Mummy.’ She nodded in full agreement and I silently thanked the great God of Tantrums for giving me this temporary and most welcome respite.



* * *



An hour later, Evie was washed, fed, dressed and standing in the corner of the short hallway with her arms folded, refusing to leave the house.

‘Evie, please,’ I tried again. ‘You have to go to school.’

‘Nanny said I don’t have to go.’

‘You do. Nanny just said that because you were upset.’ I ran my hand through my still-damp hair. ‘Every little girl and boy has to go to school or their mummy could go to jail. It’s the law.’

She looked mildly concerned for all of two seconds. ‘I DON’T want to go.’

This was getting ridiculous. If we didn’t leave the house in the next five minutes, Evie was in danger of being late.

‘You have to go to school, simple as that,’ I repeated sternly.

‘I want to go to school,’ she said, her eyes shining. ‘But not that school. I don’t want to go to horrid St Saviour’s.’

‘It’s the only school around here,’ I said, reaching for her arm. ‘You have to go there, Evie.’

‘I don’t want to.’ Her voice ramped up an octave as I gently tugged at her arm.

‘Let’s just walk together and see how you feel. Look, it’s a lovely day out there, we can look on my phone and see if there are any Pokémon around to capture on the way.’

Her eyes widened. ‘OK, Mummy, but if I don’t want to go in when we get there, can I come back home with you?’

‘Ooh, look,’ I said, tapping at my phone as if I hadn’t heard. ‘We might find one of these!’ I flashed the screenshot of a suitably monstrous-looking creature.

We walked quite briskly and I led her past hedgerows and seat benches that all might be concealing Pokémon. It worked brilliantly. Until the school gates came into view.

‘I’ve decided I don’t want to go in after all, Mummy.’ She stopped dead in her tracks and folded her arms.

‘Evie, I told you. You have to.’ I took her arm and gently pulled her along.

‘I don’t want to. I DON’T WANT TO!’ Then the tears started, streaming down her cheeks, which she rubbed all over her face, dampening her fringe.

‘Evie, please.’

Parents and children were staring now as Evie started to pull the opposite way, strange faces displaying varying degrees of sympathy, disapproval and fascination. It was becoming impossible to keep hold of her arm and pull her through the side gate without hurting her.

‘Good heavens!’ A voice thundered in front of us. ‘What’s happening here?’

I let go of Evie’s arm in alarm and she stopped struggling immediately. We both looked up to see Harriet Watson standing at the gates, hands on her hips.

Evie froze.

‘Surely this can’t be Evie Cotter, who was such a good girl yesterday?’ She shook her head at me, aghast. ‘Do you know, Mummy, Miss Akhtar said there might even be a sticker for Evie if she behaves as well today.’

Evie inhaled a little sob and wiped her eyes, staring all the time at Miss Watson.

‘A sticker, you say?’ I repeated.

‘Yes, and we don’t give stickers out to many of the children, you know,’ Harriet said. ‘Only the very best behaved girls and boys.’ She took a few steps forward and held out her hand. ‘Now, Evie, if you come along with me, and we walk into class together, Miss Akhtar doesn’t need to know about this little upset this morning, does she?’

Evie shook her head and grasped Miss Watson’s hand, looking up at her with undisguised hope of being given one of the hallowed stickers.