Dancing the Charleston Read online

  ‘On the contrary, Miss Nelson, I feel that every child needs encouragement – and I truly think they’ve done some excellent, colourful work. I hope you’re going to pin their efforts up,’ he replied.

  Miss Nelson looked appalled. The classroom boasted a picture of Jesus in a white gown holding a lantern, an alphabet frieze and several times tables charts, all neatly displayed and held in place with gold drawing pins. I could see she was thinking that fifteen or twenty scribbles would ruin the effect.

  ‘Now for the essays!’ said Mr White.

  I felt my tummy clench. He started handing them out one by one, saying kind things to everyone. He even praised Daft Dougie, who could barely print his own name.

  ‘Well done, lad. I can see you’ve made a great effort. Perhaps Miss Nelson might see fit to give you a little extra tuition in spare moments, to get you up to speed,’ he said.

  ‘I think that might be a waste of time, Mr White. Dougie’s a little simple, poor lad, and can’t learn like the others,’ Miss Nelson told him.

  ‘You must never give up on a child, Miss Nelson,’ he corrected her.

  ‘When you’ve been teaching as long as I have, Mr White, you realize that there are some youngsters who are hopeless cases,’ she said crisply. ‘Your predecessor, Mr Riley, didn’t expect miracles.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve met Mr Riley. A principled man, but rather a dinosaur,’ Mr White said breezily.

  I had a sudden vision of Mr Riley as a wizened grey dinosaur, and I had to hold my nose to stop myself snorting with laughter.

  ‘What are you doing, Mona Smith?’ Miss Nelson snapped.

  ‘Nothing, Miss Nelson,’ I said, practically choking.

  ‘Ah, Mona Smith!’ Mr White drew my notebook from underneath the pile. ‘I was keeping your effort till last. Now tell me, Mona, do you really live in a palatial manor with real Cézannes on the wall?’

  The children gasped, and Miss Nelson was angry with me.

  ‘Honestly, Mona! What nonsense have you been writing? I’m so sorry, Mr White. The child lives in a little cottage with her maiden aunt. It’s all lies.’

  I hung my head. Half the children were sniggering now, and Mr White was mocking me. I couldn’t bear it. I shut my eyes tight to stop my tears.

  ‘On the contrary, Miss Nelson, I think Mona has written an imaginative masterpiece,’ said Mr White.

  I peeped at him with one eye. He didn’t mean it, did he?

  ‘Yes, Mona, I never expected such a stylish and convincing essay, and you’re so bang up to the minute with your modern artistic taste. You have such a sharp satirical eye. What books have you been reading?’

  ‘Fairy tales, sir. And A Little Princess.’

  He shook his head. ‘Then your vision is all your own, and all the more dazzling for that. How old are you, Mona?’

  ‘I’m ten, sir.’

  ‘Clearly advanced for your age. I take it you’ve put the child in for a scholarship, Miss Nelson?’

  ‘Our children don’t sit any outside examinations, Mr White. There’s no call for it,’ said Miss Nelson.

  ‘Well, I’m calling for it! There’s a special second-chance examination at Hailbury High School for Girls this very Saturday – tomorrow! It’s for bright children who missed the scholarship exam in the spring. Can you get your aunt to take you there for ten o’clock, Mona? Bring a pen and a pencil and your birth certificate to prove who you are. I’m certain you will pass the exam with flying colours.’

  I stared at him. His voice suddenly sounded muffled. He divided into two Mr Whites, and then went so blurry I couldn’t see him properly. I felt prickles of sweat all over me. And then I fainted dead away.

  I came to in the little stationery room. It wasn’t much more than a cupboard, but it was the only place Miss Nelson could think of. I was lying on the floor with her folded cardigan under my head. It smelled faintly of coal-tar soap and peppermint.

  ‘Oh my goodness, Mona, you gave us all a fright! Whatever did you do that for?’ she demanded, as if I’d fainted on purpose.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to sit up.

  ‘Better stay lying down for a few minutes!’ said Mr White, peering over Miss Nelson’s shoulder. ‘Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to get you in a state. You will take the examination tomorrow though, won’t you? I’ll send the adjudicators a message to say I’ve authorized it. And you will remember your birth certificate? We’ve had thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds trying to pass themselves off as Juniors before now. You don’t have to be frightened – you’ll probably enjoy it enormously. Just write them another essay like the one you wrote today!’

  I kept nodding, though I was still only taking in half of what he was saying. I’d suddenly stopped being weird Mona, the girl who didn’t belong. Now I was clever Mona, imaginative Mona, intelligent Mona. I imagined going to the girls’ school in Hailbury, wearing that smart navy uniform, the tunic with the tassel, the gold-edged blazer, the straw boater. Aunty would be so proud of me!

  ‘That’s it, you’ve got some colour in your cheeks now,’ said Mr White. ‘Well, I’d better be on my way. I’ve caused enough havoc in your school for one morning, Miss Nelson, haven’t I?’ He winked at me. ‘Chin up then, Mona. Good luck tomorrow.’

  When he’d gone, Miss Nelson said I’d better stay lying down. She left the door open and told me to call out if I felt faint again or needed to visit the lavvy. I lay there feeling special. After about ten minutes Peter Robinson came to see me.

  ‘I told Miss Nelson I needed a new pencil, but I don’t really. I just wanted to see if you were all right,’ he whispered.

  ‘That’s nice of you, Peter.’

  ‘And are you? All right, I mean?’

  I nodded.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said, and gave my hand a quick squeeze.

  ‘Peter Robinson, don’t you go disturbing Mona now!’ Miss Nelson called.

  ‘I’m not, Miss Nelson, promise.’ He reluctantly let go of my hand. ‘I’m going to walk you all the way home, and I don’t care what Maggie says,’ he insisted.

  He did just that, telling Maggie I needed to be accompanied because I might faint again, and hit my head, and lie unconscious for hours. They marched on either side of me, telling me how weird I’d looked when I fainted.

  ‘Your eyes went right up into the back of your head. Talk about creepy!’ said Maggie.

  ‘And you were all floppy, as if you didn’t have any bones inside you any more,’ said Peter.

  ‘For goodness’ sake!’ I snapped. ‘Stop going on about me fainting. That’s not the important bit. What about Mr White saying I must take the scholarship exam?’

  ‘Yes, poor you!’ said Maggie. ‘But he can’t make you, can he?’

  ‘Poor me?’

  ‘Well, how awful for you, having to do exams on a Saturday! They’ll be very hard too, especially the arithmetic, and you won’t have me to copy off, will you?’

  ‘I don’t always copy,’ I said.

  ‘Yes you do. You’re hopeless at sums, you always have been. You’ll probably come bottom in the exam and then feel bad about it,’ said Maggie.

  ‘But Mr White thinks she’s ever so clever,’ said Peter loyally. ‘Especially with her writing. He kept going on about it, didn’t he?’

  ‘He just liked it because she was pretending to be posh and daft like her precious Mr Benjamin. If Mona had written about her real home, he wouldn’t have cared tuppence about her essay.’

  ‘He said I had vision,’ I said fiercely, because his praise had meant so much and I couldn’t let Maggie spoil it for me. ‘He said my work was an imaginative masterpiece.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, and he said Daft Dougie had done well too,’ she reminded me. ‘He can’t even spell his own name right.’

  ‘You keep quiet, Maggie. I bet she’ll do brilliantly in the examinations. I think she’ll come top!’ Peter said.

  ‘Well, what if she does? You wouldn’t really want to go to that awful high scho